That Time I Accidentally Befriended Some Gang Members

My place in Bushwick

My neighborhood, Prospect Heights, has started to gentrify like crazy. Since we moved in four years ago, so many cafes, restaurants and bars have opened it’s hard to keep up. There was an explosion of new businesses this past winter, and now that the weather’s nicer and everyone’s out, the difference has become very apparent. It’s weird to suddenly live in a desirable neighborhood. I haven’t always lived in the safest parts of Brooklyn. Working in the NYC art world is unfortunately not the path to riches. But it’s a good thing we live in a nice area now, cause Paul would probably have a way smaller client base if his home studio was in our last neighborhood.

I lived in Bushwick (before it was 'East Williamsburg') when I first moved to the city and Crown Heights afterwards. My place in Bushwick looked so sketch at night that once when my dad’s friend gave me a ride home, he refused to drop me off in front of my loft. I had to explain that I actually lived there before he let me out. He gave me a stern look and told me he “wouldn't tell my parents".

The sole bar in my hood in
Crown Heights

Crown Heights looks nicer since it isn't industrial, but there’s still a fair amount of crime. There were these guys dressed all in red that hung out by the subway. One was in a wheelchair and always said hello, so I would wave and greet him as I passed by. When Paul moved into the neighborhood a year later and we started dating, he noticed me saying hello to these guys. This girl got an education that day. Apparently, in the hood, guys dressed all in blue or all in red are gang members. Oops. Obviously, I had heard of the Crips and Bloods before, I just didn't expect them to be so friendly.

The adorable Sunshine Co.
in Prospect Heights

We finally moved after Paul’s roommate's friend was shot on New Years Eve in our neighborhood. Yes, shot. With a gun. In the ass. We can joke about it now. At the time, it was terrifying. They were coming back from the subway when they heard gunshots and started running. Chuck ran for a few blocks before realizing he’d been shot. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. They couldn't remove the bullet either, so poor guy will probably set off metal detectors for the rest of his life. This story has a happy ending though. He married the girl that was in town visiting with him that weekend. Maybe that night they realized how important they were to each other?

Not that Prospect Heights is free of crime. Nowhere in NYC is. And I’m sure we’ll see a backlash to the gentrification. But it’s a big change for us to live where cab drivers drop people off on Saturday evenings, instead of where cab drivers park at the end of the night.