Ethan and I moved into the “Best Address in Harlem” back in April. We were living in way the fuck out Brooklyn and decided we wanted to shorten our commute. We love the complex and the apartment….couldn’t be happier. It was startling at first, because we found something we’d never encountered before – friendly neighbors.
It was amazing. From day one, people would say hello and tell you to have a nice evening. They’d introduce themselves and ask if we were new to the building. They hold doors and elevators for each other. This is all very unusual for New York City in my opinion. Definitely nothing we ever experienced in Brooklyn. The most we ever heard from our neighbors in Brooklyn was when the asshole downstairs would come up to yell at the top of his lungs to our elderly deaf neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood.
This past Sunday, our building had its Holiday Party in the lobby. Several of our neighbors asked if we were attending, so we decided to check it out. We arrived a bit late, and as soon as we stepped off the elevator more than one person told us that everyone was already drunk and that we had some catching up to do. My kind of party. There was a ton of food…appetizers, desserts, you name it. There was music and toasting and merriment aplenty. We met even more of our neighbors and even Kevin, one of the building doormen, brought his adorable daughter and joined in the fun. People spoke to us about joining the Concerned Tenants Committee and voting for officers. There was a student there filming her documentary about gun violence and how strong community ties reduced such crime. People of all ages were doing the electric slide (no shit) and no glass was left unfilled. Oh, did I mention that we were the only white people there?
There are other white people in our building. In fact, several of them entered through the lobby while the party was going on, and continued up to their apartments without saying as much as hello. These are the same people that never say hello to anyone and who never press the elevator button for you, no matter how full your hands are. These are the people who moved to Harlem because the apartments are half the price you would find in other Manhattan neighborhoods, but who still feel uncomfortable walking down their own street. So, I implore you, what is wrong with white people? I sure as hell haven’t been able to figure it out.
