Poet Patricia Spears Jones writes a paean to Prospect Heights in the Brooklyn Rail: "I live in a neighborhood with an African tailor, West Indian shopkeepers, and Italian chefs. The economics are fragile, but they always are. There are real risk takers here."
"My neighborhood has fought its way to precarious prosperity only to be threatened by MEGA DEVELOPMENT … I don’t quite know what the Stadium will do except condemn housing in one of the most integrated neighborhoods in all of New York City … (where) only four percent of its citizens live on integrated blocks. I belong to that four percent." Read more…
That was a good article but this line “My black neighbors always say “Good morning.” My white neighbors still have to be reminded to speak.” was annoying. Being the type of person that says “hello” to all my neighbors, I find about the same amount of disinterest and/or engagement from white neighbors and black neighbors.