Reading Response 09/17

            As I opened the upstairs gate to my house I was immediately hit with the cool fall breeze that usually accompanies school-age children in early September.  I look down at my watch with the little arm on 7 and the big arm on 9, I yelled out “Brandon you have 5 minutes to be outside, we aren’t driving today so we need to get going.”   My demand was drowned out by the NYSDS garbage truck B4 456 that stopped a few houses down to collect a neighbors trash.  As the truck proceeded to my house than down to the corner,along with the loud sound of the trash compacter came the vile smell that accompanies ones thought when we think about New York City in the 80’S. No sooner he emerged from the downstairs door with a blue oxford shirt with a crest that read “M.S 35 Stephen Decatur School, A Miracle on McDonough” and Khaki pants his sweater draped over his shoulder and backpack being dragged. Trying to avoid the morning rush due to the new charter school located on the corner of Patchen Avenue and Macon Street I told him to finish getting dressed in the yard. No sooner did I hear a rumble of young boys ranging from 10-14 years of age bouncing basketballs and rapping along with the lyrics to Brooklyn’s new anthem “Hot N***a” blaring from a late model Acura TL.  Walking down the stairs I watch as droves of children hastily made their way across the street while saying “Good Morning” to the older crossing guard then quickly up the three stairs and vanished behind the huge wooden doors. 

            Maneuvering through this morning school traffic by foot can feel like a flash mob in Grand Central, even though it is random, we all seem to be organized enough to not crash into each other in an attempt to make it to the school before the buzzer than quickly disperse.  As I approach the corner of Macon Street and Malcolm X Avenue, I pay more attention to the crossing signal than I do to the 2nd Crossing Guard in her blazing neon green vest and combination cap (which for the first time reminds me of my days in the Navy) that seems to be more absorbed in her IPHONE 5 than  to the multitude of children and parents waiting for her stamp of approval that it was now safe to “move about the cabin”.  As I watch the flashing hand with the flashing 4, I see the B46 breeze past the bus stop and notice that any space to be found on the bus was already filled with a body, book bag or wheelchair. The flashing hand with the flashing 3 presented what was slowly becoming a makeshift  parking lot for all the parents in sweats and pajamas engaged in the hustle and bustle of the “drop-off”.  The flashing hand and the flashing 2 presented a little girl with 3 pigtails 2 in the front and 1 in the back,  all held together with pink ponytail holders and pink barrettes, she wore a pink and brown dress with matching stocking and brown penny-less loafers holding a boy’s hand (who I assume was her younger brother) for dare life as if she was instructed to ”not let him go” until they reached their destination.  Finally steady hand and the flashing 1 shows a woman with a black handbag and shirt that says “Black Girls Rock” dash diagonally through the intersection to catch the next bus, paying little to no attention to oncoming traffic, to the children trying to make it to school or even the oblivious crossing guard who has now shifted her focus to the crazy lady running to catch the bus.  As I crossed the intersection of Stuyvesant Avenue and Macdonough Street I notice a green Taxicab with its hazards on, the driver opened his door and swiftly  walked to the trunk to remove 2 pull suitcases and duffel bag all identical for a young couple (I assume) who stood waiting on the steps of Akwaaba Mansion. It’s funny how we overlook the little treasures of our community.Standing on the corner on Lewis Avenue and Macdonough Street, hearing the bells of St. Phillips Episcopal Church, I finally received my daily cue, it was 8am. I was immediately distracted by a loud crash of glass behind me. I turned to see a staff member of a local restaurant trying to salvage whatever was left of the glasses he dropped.

            As the children settled into there classrooms, a quiet airiness has taken over the once populated streets. The car filled streets have seem to have cleared, the busy chatter has died down, the buses and bus stops that were once filled to capacity seems deserted, older people seem to finally risen to have their morning coffee and paper and people and have   suddenly found time to partake in morning chitchat. Everything has slowed down and is moving at a slower more relaxed pace.  I see other parents/grandparents and guardians making their way back home.  I laugh to myself how wonderful they all seem to look after 12pm but right now they all look disheveled including myself in a grey Adidas sweat suit, a scarf on my head and an original pair of Air Max from 1995. I busily kick around some leaves that have fallen off the trees and I notice even I am moving at a slower pace/peace!!!