I love New York City—always have,
always will.
As a child in my grandparent’s Brooklyn brownstone, I used to stare at the
streetlights as they gleamed into my window at night, conjuring images of all
the things the city had waiting for me. Back then, all I wanted was to be a
singer, and the city seemed ripe with adventure and possibility.
Most of my memories of growing up in Sunset
Park are simple and happy. Hanging
out on the playground while friends played handball. Grabbing a slice from the
open-window pizza shop. Sitting on the stoop with my best friend. Riding the
Cyclone in Coney Island until my head hurt.
Still, for reasons I didn’t understand at the time, my parents took me away
from it all. First, to the suburbs of New Jersey
and then to the Dominican Republic.
They often spoke of a life that had more to offer, where I would have more
freedom to be a child, but I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to grow up
than New York.
I would leave and come back several times between the ages of 9 and 12, before
my father made the final decision for us to stay away when street fights and
boys became a part of my existence. I would leave one last time at the age of
12 to finish middle and high school. My final memory was my first
kiss on a Sunset Park
bench overlooking the Manhattan
skyline.
I came back for college, eventually scoring a receptionist position at an
international nonprofit that would help pay for my tuition and a one-bedroom
apartment in Manhattan. I continued
to pursue my dream of becoming a singer through my twenties, and finally sang
on stage at the Apollo Theater, at the age of 28, when I was a finalist for their
Amateur Night.
What more can I say? New York City
has taught me courage and strength of character. It taught me the beauty of
diversity, not only in skin color but also in expression, thoughts and ideas.
It taught me to dream big. Like my parents before me, I started a family
here.
Originally, I liked being a parent here so much that I started a blog about it
to share the life I built with family and friends as it unfolded. But as time passed,
my husband and I started experiencing the challenges that we had heard other
parents complain about but we ourselves had chosen to ignore. You know the
list—space, education, the cost of doing anything. With all that NYC has to
offer, we weren’t getting what we needed most.
For the longest time, my husband and I didn’t want to admit that the city we
love no longer caters to our needs. But our new home in South
Orange, New Jersey gives us
what we need and then some, and when we need a fix of the city we still love, it’s
only a 35-minute train ride away.
New York is not just where I am
from. In many ways, it is who I am. And I am still excited to explore the city
with my children in tow, but our adventures are now like station breaks from
the main show—our life in the ‘burbs.
Carol Cain blogs about her travel and food adventures in New
York City and beyond at NYCityMama.com.
