Here in the Windsor Terrace area of Brooklyn things are pretty normal, except the children have been out of school for a week and most people aren’t going to work. The neighborhood feels terribly vital, if only because more of us are around and outside, cleaning up the streets and sidewalks, sweeping the stoops.
In Prospect Park, just a few blocks from here, there are hundreds of trees down, mostly beloved old ones, and its hard to say goodbye, they’ve been here so much longer than we have. Down the road toward the beach things are far more grim, Coney Island and Redhook got hit hard — the Rockaways is in shambles, Staten Island also battered — you’ve seen the pictures.
There is an amazing gift economy at work all over the place, you can have free Ramen on 8th st in the East Village, fancy caramels down in Tribeca, spaghetti in Alphabet City, people are on the street giving it away and its a joy to watch. And there is incredible anger too, some of it focused, some of it more of an atmospheric spray — the inevitable frustration of life without electricity and elevators and working toilets and food anxiety turning into outright hunger. There are all kinds of lessons for us here though I’m afraid most people don’t seem to recognize the lines at the gas station as anything but inconvenient so maybe its just too soon for a deeper reckoning.
Our immediate community is sheltered and safe, many of us have friends and family with lost homes and property — no doubt about it the storm HIT. We have it in our bodies now. We are grateful for all your support and good wishes. Lets not be sentimental, let’s be strong and clear, let’s get down to some serious revolutionary skill-sharing, pitch in where we can and keep our Love on the Prize — EARTHALUJAH!
image is via Rev. Billy & the Church of Stop Shopping