By the Waterfront
By Victoria Siebor
WNYC Transmitter Park is a staple afternoon park for many, located at the bank of the East River. When observing the park and Greenpoint overall, I realize just how much it’s changed.
On an average sunny afternoon in Greenpoint, WNYC Transmitter Park is filled with post-brunch dog walkers and moms with baby strollers lounging on the grass or river rocks. They laugh and talk about their latest relationships or career changes along the bank of the East River, unaware of the neighborhood grandmas who stopped occupying nearby benches or the sleek apartments that replaced old townhouses.
I grew up in Greenpoint and was around 7 when I first came to Transmitter Park, excited by my proximity to the river and at-the-time unguarded rocks. Aside from the empty, rusty warehouses by the water, my view of the river was mostly unobstructed. As I would get closer to the riverbank and city skyline on my way to the park, I looked forward to descending down the rocky inlet and climbing under the bridge, getting close enough to touch the water.
I watched from the playground as neighbors who once danced to music on their fire escape weren’t there a few months later. When their building disappeared and was replaced by a concrete foundation, I can’t say I was surprised.
Since then, more bricks have been replaced by concrete and glass. Over my meager 17 years, I’ve watched as my neighborhood became gentrified, with some newcomers attracted to this nightlife hotspot, and some replacing my former neighbors.
I used to hear Polish at every street corner, in every store, but now am familiar with the “yeah-i-just-moved-here” vocal fry. I don’t feel welcomed as part of Greenpoint’s history, a relic of the past, a rare “born-and-raised” New Yorker. Though I appreciate the new businesses and people who’ve experienced my neighborhood, I mourn for the local Polish bakeries replaced by coffee shops serving lavender lattes. I don’t want to blend in with those spending a day here to explore, yet I feel as if they’re the majority now. Within a blink of an eye the colorful, modest, aluminum siding clapboard townhouses become few and far between, replaced by large window-covered silver buildings. Balconies instead of bricks and glass doors instead of matching aluminum siding and awnings.
When applying to college, I was convinced that I’d stay in Greenpoint for a while. I thought I would commute and discover the bars and restaurants that everyone stood on line for. But somewhere along the way, I’ve realized that just like the townhouses and old bakeries, I no longer feel at home.
There’s now more people on the G, in McCarren Park, and in all the new vintage stores. This fall, I’m going to college in New Haven and although I’ll miss my home, I feel I’m being forced out. It’s almost easier to say goodbye to my neighborhood when I barely recognize it.
Greenpoint’s changed right before my eyes and I’ve just now noticed. My neighbors moved, some without saying goodbye, and fewer people stop to talk to my mom when coming home from work. My view of the East River waterfront is now obstructed by all the concrete, tall glass buildings. But I guess just as the water’s tides ebb and flow, time passes and people move on.
Process
The idea for this piece was developed throughout a few mentor meetings, as I knew I wanted to submit a video with a speaking portion but had yet to find a central idea. I really like experimenting with the idea of natural vs manmade in my writing, and I thought WNYC Transmitter Park was a perfect intersection. I really resonate with this park, as it’s one of my favorite places in NYC and I frequently come up with many ideas there. Over the course of a few days, I filmed clips of the park that corresponded with parts of my “script” as well as shots of Greenpoint homes and storefronts. I then paired the clips with the speaking portion to show similar visuals to what I “saw” when I wrote my writing component.
Victoria Siebor
Victoria Siębor was born and raised in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Though she loves the city’s glass and concrete buildings, she’s constantly drawn to the hum of the leaves and anything related to trees, mountains and lakes. Victoria has an avid love of learning Latin, doing social science research and reading literature. She enjoys all forms of dancing, especially jazz and contemporary. She hopes to publish short stories exploring her upbringing as a child of Polish immigrants.