I started this blog as a way to express my frustrations and share the stories of all the moving that I've done. I'm not settled, yet, but i may be close to finding something/where that I can call home for more than 1year.
Residents of other states (and other parts of NY) can't quite imagine how tough it is to become functionally independent as a young adult in NYC. I've been out of college for four years now so I'm not quite a recent college grad yet I'm still finding that the realities of my generation and generations past differ vastly.
Gone are the days of living in the hood in Brooklyn and getting a " regular job" while being able to afford renting your own apartment. By own I mean just you, yourself and your belongings. Not only has rent skyrocketed and the job marketed plummeted (correlation?), but reverse white flight has all the suburban white folks, these new white young professionals abandoning the possibility of a white picket fence and a German shepherd for the iron horse, exposed brick and a yorkie in buildings mixed with other young professionals and Brown neighbors who've been there for decades. It's true, google it. If it's on the internet you know it's real. :-)
As a youngster my family was blessed enough to only have one major move. The other two were in the same building to allow the management company to "renovate" and make repairs to our apartment. We lived cramped. 5 people in what was functionally a 1-2br depending on who you asked. The rent. $200! I painfully digress.
When we finally left the best borough in all of the world and moved to Long Island it was an intense intro to something I didn't think I'd have to get used to. It's like your first taste of that frugal meal that you will eventually be forced to frequent because of tough times. Canned corned beef and white rice, ramen noodles, you get my drift. This meal was moving.
I chose to get my higher education in Philadelphia. The city of brotherly love, whose sibling rivalries have caused most "brothers" to show their love in Crimson stained Cain and Abel type ways. I digress. It is here where the Urban nomadic journey began. In Philadelphia. Among row homes and stray cats, crack houses and section 8 gates. Among college students and ex-convicts. I had no idea in 02 that I was about to backpack through the valleys and shadows of violence. Follow my journey and see why I've felt the urge to share my story.
It starts in the heart of North Philly. 1922 N. Broad Street. J&H. A hi rise dormitory for college freshmen. A sight reminiscent of the hi-rise projects of NYC. Something said by Daniel Beatty in his new play, Through the Night, projects look like dorms but the difference is what goes on inside...(paraphrased of course)
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