By Derrell Bradford | NYCAN Blog
I have been thinking and writing a lot about race lately, and more recently race in New York. I remember when I moved here in the mid ‘90s I thought the city would be a melting pot dream, lots of different people playing and living near and with one another. Instead I found a New York that was deeply divided. For me it was Manhattan below 96th street; where the trains ran on time, the cops were present, and the delivery guys always showed up. But with everything else, you took your chances. New Yorkers hung out in small groups that were professional or educational cliques where the only way in was to be a card-carrying member or to have the right degree. Most surprisingly, New Yorkers didn’t hang out “together.” I’d go one place and it was all white. I’d go another and it was all black. New York was like a mosaic; from a distance it was beautiful and fluid but up close it was just lots of little single-color tiles separated by hard lines of concrete.