Field Notebook

For this assignment I decided to head down the block where I used to live, 194^th street and Marion. I haven’t been there in 6 years so I thought it would be interesting to see what has changed. I start on top of a hill and look downward. Luckily the narrow streets and tall buildings help block the sun. Cars pass by blasting the latest rap songs. The floor is littered with wrappers, bags of potato chips and other pieces of trash. All the small bodegas that I used to go to were still there. I pass a questionable man and he asks me if “I want that sour.” I ignore him and keep heading downhill. The further I go the more things seem the same. The beauty shops, Chinese restaurant, laundry mat, pharmacy, it is all there.  It seems not much has changed since I have left except the block’s favorite pizza shop.   About two months before I left pizza shop closed down. It seems like nothing has occupied the spot and tried to replace it since. Across the street from the shop is a supermarket. Six months before I left the supermarket had moved in and since then, it has been easy to identify who lived in the area and who didn't. People’s faces start to get familiar and some people got friendlier.

Now I am at the corner at the last part of the hill. It is not a surprise that the same liquor store is still there, with the trademark bottle of liquor that rests in a brown bag outside the door. A few men hanging outside and have their conversations in Spanish. I turn the corner and see where I spent so much of my time as a teenager. I pass the bodega I have visited nearly every time I went outside. I even see one of the owners who were pretty surprised to see me. Outside of the door a few older people are hanging out, laughing and making a ruckus. A few steps later I arrive just outside my building. I notice a large black gate that sits near the spot I have spent so much time loitering around. I examine the street and notice the old skellzies board the block used to play on has now been paved over by a fresher black street. The first floor AC unit is still there. The one that a friend and I bent the blades to spell our name on it. A small grin creeps across my face as I regain more vivid memories of the times I have spent outside on this street.