Despite the city's endless bureaucracy, East Village residents continue to aid asylum seekers at the former St. Brigid School

Photos and reporting by Stacie Joy 

Last week, EVG reader (and parent of Miss Kita the Wonder Dog) Jose Garcia messaged the site and offered to do a Costco run with his husband to purchase supplies for the asylum seekers temporarily housed at the former St. Brigid School. 

So the three of us (Kita stayed home) spent this past Sunday afternoon trying to find inexpensive sandals, shoes, T-shirts, underwear, and socks at the 125th Street Costco location.

Upon returning to the school on Seventh Street and Avenue B with our newly purchased supplies, we started handing them to grateful asylum seekers outside. We didn't have enough for everyone, and I promised we'd return on the next distribution day.

At that point, Sunday's site supervisor came out and yelled at me, "You can't do this! You just can't do this! You have to stop!" The previous clothing drive had ongoing issues: fights between city employees and the state Assemblymember's office that led to someone calling the police. And problems working with all the different abbreviated groups inside the center: OEM, NYCEM, MedRite and the Mayor's Office. 

There isn't a clear chain of command and no transparency. Despite clear and visible proof that the city needs help, they do not appear keen on accepting it. Some site staffers report being reprimanded for accepting donations or assisting with providing aid.

Signs went up at the center announcing that visitors and donations (not to mention weapons) were not permitted inside the school.

Tuesday's distribution ran more smoothly, primarily due to cooperation carefully forged and negotiated with the new MedRite site supervisor and a team of East Village volunteers who spent some sweaty hours sorting clothes and supplies and helping distribute them to those in need.

There was also an assist from some hired security team members from inside the center and help from the refugees themselves. 

It was a successful event, and people could source most of what was needed. I was told there were 237 people inside at the time of distribution (maximum capacity is 350), and I guestimate we saw about 150 of them in line for supplies.

During Tuesday's volunteer distribution, NYC Mesh and Verizon both showed up (again), offering free Wi-Fi installation for the site — a crucial need for the asylum seekers eager to be able to contact loved ones. But the NYC Mesh and Verizon reps were turned away (again), with officials citing something about "proper procedure" and a need for authorization. 

However, it's unclear just who authorizes this (or anything) at this respite center. A rep from the city's IT team was onsite as a volunteer, and she is trying some outreach, and we are trying to establish a pipeline with the Mayor's Office. Meanwhile, Father Seán Connolly from St. Brigid's/St. Emeric on Avenue B and Eighth Street wrote a letter requesting access to install equipment.

Everyone remains persistent and optimistic, but the endless bureaucracy and lack of transparency or assistance wear people down. 

An official "from immigration" was onsite Tuesday asking asylum seekers in line if they want to be sent to Albany or points north with the same offer as before (housing, beds, a shower, working papers and a job). However, word is spreading that this may not be factual. I didn't see anyone taking them up on the offer. 

We had supplies left over that were slated for the Police Academy Gym site on 21st Street (another local Respite Center). Still, we couldn't get any cooperation between that site supervisor or workers at the location. Officers from the 9th Precinct tried to assist with the delivery, but they, too, were rebuffed. After several frantic calls, we found a home for the donated items at the Delancey Spanish Seventh-day Adventist Church on Forsyth Street, which will pass them on to the unhoused locals they work with.

If you’d like to donate or volunteer, another drive is scheduled today (June 8) from 3 to 5:30 p.m. Please just show up at 107 Avenue B at Seventh Street to volunteer or to drop off selected merchandise: men's pants, shorts, and sweats are especially in need. And, as always, chancletas in all sizes. New boxers-briefs, backpacks, and jackets/sweaters are also highly requested.

While volunteers are needed to sort the new donations at 107 Avenue B, there may not be an outdoor distribution if the smoky conditions remain. 

Future drop-off date: Tuesday, June 13, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.

Previously on EV Grieve:

• Inside the East Village 'respite center' for asylum seekers

• Missed meal deliveries and a need for basics: the developing situation at the East Village respite center for asylum seekers

• At the former St. Brigid School, a generous outpouring of community support for asylum seekers

• A call for volunteers and donations for asylum seekers this week 

At the former St. Brigid School, a generous outpouring of community support for asylum seekers

Photos and text by Stacie Joy 

Yesterday was the first distribution day since we published the stories (here and here) about the asylum seekers at the former St. Brigid's School, which the city is using at a temporary "respite center" on Seventh Street and Avenue B. 

It's a big production, with many community members reaching out, eager to help. I hope all donated goods: clothes, bedding, towels, personal-care products, book bags and shoes will find good homes with the newly arrived refugees. 

I arrive a bit early at the drop-off location, and it's already filling up — so many people are bringing in so many items. As I frantically text some reinforcements — friends and neighbors — to help organize the growing donations, more and more people drop off bags for the hundreds of asylum seekers arriving here in the past week. 

The community support is more than I ever imagined, with residents bringing precisely what is most needed: shoes (chancletas are a highly requested footwear), jeans, sweats, T-shirts, blankets, sheets, towels, and backpacks. A local wine bar owner drops off hundreds of dollars worth of new shoes, socks and bedding. 

People carefully explain what they've brought, and several ask me about providing ongoing support. It's touching — and daunting. Hundreds of pounds of items are piling up...

As more volunteers arrive, we begin setting up tables at the Free Store outside the center. There is, predictably, initial pushback from the facility even though we're on a public sidewalk.

However, we reach an understanding and are soon working together to get the goods to the people who need them. And hundreds of asylum seekers are provided clothing, bedding and hygiene products. The donated backpacks —  a hotly sought-after item — move faster than I anticipated.

Staffers come out to help translate. Spanish and French are the two most spoken languages, but one woman speaks Mandarin, and no one can assist her. She wants to go to Flushing but needs to know how. 

Site workers also help me pair specific items with those who made a request, and we strategize how to get the most-requested item — Wi-Fi access — to the people. Since there is no coordination between the city and several agencies working within the site, getting anything accomplished through government channels is impossible. 

There are some heartwarming moments — two women are ecstatic over a donated box of new makeup, a gentleman spies some glittery shoes he admires, and the woman requesting extra-small or extra-extra-small yoga pants finally grabs two pair. Someone else spies the AeroBed that was dropped off, and we Google translate how to inflate it — often with amusing results and a much-needed moment of levity.  

As soon as items hit the table (and sometimes before), they are nabbed by the center's residents. And a new bus of immigrants arrives in the middle of the distribution, while another bus parks down the block to take people to Albany. Many take their newly acquired packs, clothes, and goods and head to the bus in preparation for heading north — all thanking us before they board. 

The scene is sometimes chaotic, with altercations between city and state employees, and the police are called to intercede. Additionally, a few Medrite employees — the subcontractors the city hired — are agitated, and some unkind words are uttered. Still, no one stops the Free Store, and even when security arrives via NYC Emergency Management, they are supportive.

This was a hugely successful community event, thanks mainly to East Village residents and EVG readers. Many of the asylum seekers expressed gratitude and thanks for the generous help.

Future drop-off dates at Assemblymember Harvey Epstein's office at 107 Avenue B at Seventh Street are:

• Tuesday, June 6, 10 a.m.-2 p.m. 

• Thursday, June 8, 3-5:30 p.m. 

• Tuesday, June 13, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.

Previously on EV Grieve:

• Inside the East Village 'respite center' for asylum seekers

• Missed meal deliveries and a need for basics: the developing situation at the East Village respite center for asylum seekers

Missed meal deliveries and a need for basics: the developing situation at the East Village respite center for asylum seekers

Photos and text by Stacie Joy 

Part two in our ongoing coverage of the asylum seeker
respite center in the East Village 

An asylum seeker asked me where he could get a job. He said his fellow asylum seekers are asking everywhere and are desperate to work — any kind of work. 

Two people showed me immigration paperwork that had them set to appear in Texas and Philadelphia, respectively, tomorrow. I use Google translate to help me with complicated translation — and they ask how far Texas is and if it’s possible to “get a ticket there.” 

Several people (most from Colombia) show me paperwork for BI SmartLINK. This immigration phone app can monitor them and provide case management, but they don’t have Wi-Fi or cellular service, so they can’t make their scheduled phone appointments. I asked some local businesses near the site — the former St. Brigid's School on Seventh Street and Avenue B — if they could share Wi-Fi passwords, but they all declined. 

I am also told that meals didn’t show up again yesterday, and folks are hungry. C&B Café donates some items: croissants, focaccia, donuts, sourdough — and the bags are empty before everyone gets something to eat. I contacted EVLovesNYC again to plan for another Sunday delivery — but their funds are dwindling. They believe they can do 100 meals for Sunday, and we talk about how to maximize meal planning on a budget. 

At this point, the site is being monitored 24/7 by officers from the 9th Precinct. None have been inside the site, and they tell me that the orders have come from high up the command chain, above the Precinct’s commanding officer — to monitor all the respite center sites, not just the one in the East Village. I ask if they can turn the flashing lights off, which they do. They seem mostly interested in being helpful but unsure exactly how to do so. 

I had spotted a sign warning about a “men’s shelter” (misspelled as a “men shetler”) opening up in Tompkins Square Park, at the playground near Seventh Street and Avenue B. I ask the officers if they expect protests, but they say no; they have no reason to believe there will be any problems. They just want to make sure everything is calm on the street.

As calm as things are outside, things are reaching a breaking point inside. During a meal distribution several days ago, State Assemblymember Harvey Epstein arrived for a scheduled facility tour. The site supervisor instructs the NYCEM (NYC Emergency Management) and Medrite (city subcontractor) teams to block and pin him to the wall. 

They keep him restrained even after they are made aware that he’s a local elected official representing the district the center is located in. Epstein explains that Mayor Adam’s senior advisor Diane Savino made the appointment for him, but no one seems inclined to allow him in, and he is escorted out. To date, he hasn’t been allowed to see the facility. 

On Monday, we take all the community-donated clothes and supplies and set up a Free Store outside the center. Nearly 100 of the asylum seekers line up to receive supplies, and in a touching twist, they all step aside and announce “women first,” and the women come and claim their clothes and supplies before the men. I am charmed by that.

What starts as a line soon devolves into a free-for-all as people swarm the tables. We received dozens and dozens of bags of clothing and donated items, and after about 30 minutes, we had just a few leftover items. I explain that we’ll be back again on Thursday with more stuff.

I get requests for chancletas, sneakers, sweatpants, underwear, jeans, T-shirts, cell phones. I try to write down special requests (women’s underwear size small, jeans with a 32 waist), but I am also told that many people won’t be there when I return. They are being shipped upstate, and it’s hard for me to know if they want to go or have no choice. 

One staffer lets me in to drop off the rest of the clothing, and I notice something optimistic: The coffeepot — previously deemed an unacceptable item — has finally been set up and is clearly being used by everyone. I smile; it’s a good sign.

If you’d like to help, donations of adult clothes (there are no children or infants at this location), bedding and towels, backpacks, and toiletries are welcome during four upcoming drop-off dates. 

Items can be brought to Epstein’s office at 107-109 Avenue B at Seventh Street on the following dates and times: 

• Thursday, June 1, 3-5:30 p.m.

• Tuesday, June 6, 10 a.m.-2 p.m. 

• Thursday, June 8, 3-5:30 p.m. 

• Tuesday, June 13, 10 a.m.-2 p.m. 

Previously on EV Grieve: 

• Inside the East Village 'respite center' for asylum seekers

Inside the East Village 'respite center' for asylum seekers

Photos and text by Stacie Joy 

First in an ongoing series (part 1 is here)

Editor's note: To protect the asylum seekers, our published photos
do not include names, faces or personal details. 

According to the online publication The City, a half-dozen sites in NYC now serve as what the Adams administration refers to as respite centers for asylum seekers, including the former St. Brigid’s School, which closed in the spring of 2019.

“They’re basically like waiting rooms until we can find a placement for somebody,” an official for Mayor Adams told The City.

After reading this article by Gwynne Hogan and Haidee Chu, I went to the school on Seventh Street and Avenue B — last used by unvaccinated teachers to conduct remote learning — to see if I could help provide food, clothing, or personal care items for the hundreds of people expected here in the days and weeks ahead.

On my first trip, around 75 individuals had arrived at the destination. I had brought along donated items such as food and clothing, intending to inquire about the specific needs of new arrivals for their short-term stay. 

However, it became apparent that the demand was immense at the center that first opened its doors this past Thursday. Many people arrived without shoes, and nearly everyone possessed only the clothes they wore, lacking any personal belongings. 

Those fortunate enough to have phones were eager to locate a Wi-Fi connection to communicate with their families, yet the center had no access. The situation was distressing, with many people visibly upset and exhausted from their long journey. Some quietly approached me, requesting coffee or Tylenol to alleviate their headaches. 

Most of the people I spoke with were Spanish or French speakers, and I met asylum seekers from Venezuela, Ecuador and Mauritania, among other locations.

The newcomers arrived to this space via MTA buses, and their numbers increased daily. (I was informed that the facility could accommodate up to 350 adults.) Upon arrival, they underwent a processing procedure at the center, receiving a lanyard and an ID card featuring a QR code. 

They were then directed to the designated area where cots were placed and presented with a welcome packet. The basement, which served as the primary location for the cots, was uncomfortably cold, and the only provisions provided by local officials were thin blankets adorned with the City of New York crest and small personal care kits.

There are bathrooms but no showers or laundry facilities. There is a kitchen, but it doesn’t have gas for cooking, as the building hasn't hosted students since the spring of 2019. Signs are directing people to shower at the Dry Dock Pool on 10th Street at Avenue D.

Security is understandably tight at the location, so it is suggested that we set up outside, and people can come to select what they need from what is available. 

I am told repeatedly that “the city doesn’t want to draw attention to the facility,” but also staffers run out and whisper requests to me, “A refugee needs a cell phone; an old one is fine. Can we find her one?” ... “a postpartum mother needs special underwear; any way to source her some?” ... “We have a diabetic on site; is there a sugar substitute available?”

I volunteer to buy a hotplate so people can have coffee, but I am told it’s a liability, and the City doesn’t want the risk. My friend donates a coffeemaker, filters and coffee beans instead, but it’s never used. Again, I am told it’s a liability. 

I started asking friends and neighbors for donated blankets, sweaters, sweatpants, or anything to keep people warm. I also asked the local food nonprofit EVLovesNYC if they could help with a Sunday lunch, which was fortuitous, as the city’s planned meals never arrived that day.

We were initially invited inside to distribute meals (we had four meal kits: chicken, pork, veggie and vegan options), but soon after, the NYC Emergency Management site supervisor demanded we leave (and take all the food with us). 

It’s a dichotomy, as the City is asking for help with the overwhelming influx (tens of thousands) of refugees and asylum-seekers expected in NYC. Still, city officials are also preventing community members from directly supporting the people in need. (According to The City article, the respite centers have opened with little notice to the surrounding communities.) I was told to “donate to Red Cross” or “the approved drop-off location for Manhattan at 518 W. 168th St.” 

Tables will be outside during specific hours a few times a week with a Free Store of donated items.

If you’d like to help, donations of adult clothes (there are no children or infants at this location), bedding and towels, backpacks, and toiletries are welcome during four upcoming drop-off dates. Items can be brought to the office of State Assemblymember Harvey Epstein at 107-109 Avenue B at Seventh Street on the following dates and times: 

• Thursday, June 1, 3-5:30 p.m. 

• Tuesday, June 6, 10 a.m.-2 p.m. 

• Thursday, June 8, 3-5:30 p.m. 

• Tuesday, June 13, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.

Weekend parting shot

Steven spotted Christo, one of the resident red-tailed hawks of Tompkins Square Park, taking off from St. Brigid's on Avenue B and Eighth Street early on Friday evening... 

Brownout at the former St. Brigid School

Work continues at the former St. Brigid School on the NE corner of Avenue B and Seventh Street.

EVG reader Robert Miner reports that workers painted the former school's green strip brown on Sunday.

And yesterday...

... workers removed the St. Brigid's banners from out front...

In February 2019, the Archdiocese of New York announced that St. Brigid School would cease operations at the end of that academic year, a move that blindsided students, parents and faculty alike. Founded in 1856, the Saint Brigid School was one of seven Catholic schools marked for closure by the Archdiocese in 2019. 

Given its A-plus EV location with Tompkins Square Park views, some residents have figured this property would end up a high-end condoplex much like the former Mary Help of Christians on Avenue A and 12th Street. 

However, as Dave on 7th pointed out, the work here suggests that the Archdiocese is prepping the two-level building for rental for another school (perhaps a charter school?). 

A corner to watch in 2022!

Are you missing your pet parrot?

Several readers noticed an exotic bird out in the wild this morning in Tompkins Square Park nearest to the entrance at Seventh Street and Avenue B.

EVG reader Clint was able to corral the bird, and now has it at home for safekeeping...



Per Clint: "It is a black-headed caique. It's very friendly and tame. It was obviously someone's pet and well cared for."

Does it belong to you?

Updated 1/31

Clint has not found the owner yet. There is a lead that it may belong to someone at St. Brigid's. Clint is talking contact there today.

When a stranger calls

Hawk watchers in Tompkins Square Park yesterday spotted this juvenile red-tailed hawk hanging out (it is fall migration time) ... dining on some local cuisine...



According to EVG correspondent Steven, this arrival didn't sit well with Amelia and Christo, the Park's resident hawks. They circled the youngster and, at one point, one of the adult hawks rammed the juvenile before escorting it away from the Park.

Later in the day, Amelia and Christo took in the views from atop St. Brigid's on Avenue B and Eighth Street...

Curiosity about the anonymous buyer behind the sale of the Boys' Club Harriman Clubhouse

Last Wednesday, news arrived that "a wealthy, anonymous individual" had purchased the the Boys' Club Harriman Clubhouse on Avenue A and 10th Street.

We had heard rumors in previous weeks of such a transaction; and that the Boys' Club would continue to lease space here for another year.

As for the buyer, per Crain's:

Paul Wolf, a real estate broker and adviser who specializes in working with nonprofits and who represented the foundation, said the buyer wanted to remain anonymous. Wolf said the buyer was planning to sell the property, potentially at a substantial loss, to a nonprofit that would maintain its civic use.

"The goal is to keep this as a community facility," said Wolf, who is co-president of the firm Denham Wolf. "The intent is to sell it to a nonprofit at a lower price than the purchase price."

As the Daily News noted, "The buyer, who bought the land as a foundation, wants to remain anonymous, according to the sources, one of whom said he had to sign a non-disclosure agreement as part of the deal."

The deal here has residents recalling the anonymous donor who came to the rescue of St. Brigid’s on Avenue B and Eighth Street in 2008, sparing the circa-1848 building from demolition and making it possible for the structure to be reopened as a parish church.

Per the Times in May 2008:

The Archdiocese of New York announced on Wednesday that a donor had come forward with an “unexpected but very welcome gift” of $20 million after a private meeting with Cardinal Edward M. Egan, the archbishop of New York.

The gift includes $10 million to restore the building, at 119 Avenue B; $2 million to establish an endowment for the parish “so that it might best meet the religious and spiritual needs of the people living in the community”; and $8 million to support St. Brigid’s School [ed note: closed now as of June 2019] and other Catholic schools in need.

We never heard definitively, but — via the rumor mill — the leading candidates behind saving the church were Irish-American philanthropist Chuck Feeney, Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, Donald Trump and Mel Gibson. (And Matt Dillon!)

Now various residents and readers are searching for clues behind the identity of the person who bought the Boys' Club building, which opened in 1901.

Public records show that the 7-story building was sold to 287 East 10th Street LLC c/o Denham Wolf Real Estate Services for $31.725 million, as per the "Details" document and page 12 of the deed accessed here.

According to public records, Boys' Club Executive Director Stephen Tosh represented the Boys Club in the sale. Carey Thope (or Thorpe) represented 287 East 10th Street LLC. It's unclear at the moment who Thope/Thorpe is. Interestingly enough, 287 East 10th Street LLC is not listed in the Division of Corporations - New York State Department of State database.



So the searching and guessing will continue.

Meanwhile, Sen. Brad Hoylman shared his thoughts on the developments here. He spoke out against a potential sale last fall with several other local elected officials who had concerns about the loss of the services the Boys' Club provides to the neighborhood:

"Whoever this angel investor is, I want to thank them on behalf of our community. They are saving a century-old community facility from being converted into luxury condos or a high-priced hotel, which sadly has been the real estate narrative for the East Village.

While I wish the Boys’ Club had never put the Harriman Clubhouse on the open market in the first place, I’m grateful to them for finding this angel investor that will allow young people and families in our community to continue to benefit from this splendid facility.

I’m hopeful that the unnamed foundation will work with Community Board 3, elected officials, and other local stakeholders to ensure that community organizations have a place in the new building and that the Boys’ Club, which is reportedly taking space in the building, will decide to stay in this location and continue to provide the essential services it offers to boys and young men."

Previously on EV Grieve:
Conspiracy theories: Who was the anonymous donor behind St. Brigid's $20 million donation?

More speculation on the 'saint' who saved St. Brigid's

Local elected officials urge Boys' Club officials to postpone sale of the Harriman Clubhouse

Boys' Club of New York selling East Village building; will remain open through June 2019

During noon rally today, local elected officials will seek postponement of Boys' Club building sale

[Updated] Exclusive: The Boys' Club of New York puts the Harriman Clubhouse on the sales market for $32 million

Boys' Club fast tracks sale of East Village clubhouse as final bids are due Oct. 30

RUMOR: The Boys' Club building on 10th and A has a new owner; will remain in use as a nonprofit

I Am a Rent-Stabilized Tenant

East Village resident Susan Schiffman has been photographing the apartments of rent-stabilized tenants living in the East Village for her Instagram account, I Am a Rent Stabilized Tenant. She will share some of the photos here for this ongoing EVG feature.

Photos and text by Susan Schiffman

Tenant: Anthony, since 1990

Why did you move to the East Village. How did you find your apartment?

I am a fifth-generation New Yorker, and have had several apartments in New York City. On the side while working with the HIV epidemic from the start of the 1980s, I did volunteer workshops in prisons and communities in conflict resolution and community building. I saved, and in 1990, decided to travel and see what other people and organizations were doing to bring those torn apart by hate together, and to freely share the curricular that was inspiring me.

The areas of major conflict in our news at the time were Northern Ireland, Northern India, South Africa, Israel and Palestine. It was an open plane ticket, and I envisioned possibly finding another home, another call. The journey did reinforce fully the sense that the earth and all its people really are my family, my wider home.

I guess it was family that called me back. I came back. I had let go of my apartment like many of us foolishly do. I left the city actually two times before when I had had it with the grit, and felt that I would not be coming back.

After several months, I landed again at the end of 1990 looking for another place to stay. Back then, we didn’t really worry about it too much — we could always find a place.

My dear, late cousin Bill Donovan, two months apart from me, lived in this space. I grew up with Bill, loved him very much. I miss him terribly. He was a wonderful artist. He lived in this space, once filled from wall to wall with his paintings. He worked at Pearl Paint on Canal Street at the time. Bill fell in love about the same time I landed. He said, “I have to move out of my place, I just fell in love and it's looking serious. (Marriage and beautiful daughter Kirsten ensued.) Why don’t you take my apartment?”

I gave myself one month to live here. Absolutely tiny, but I could put my bags down and look for another place. I never intended to stay here. As you can see, I wouldn’t be able to have a wife or child in this apartment. It probably contributed to my being single these years.

I got really busy and didn’t have time to look for another place. The apartment was convenient. The location was good. I always felt my history here. My great, great grandparents on my mother’s side, the McAllisters, were married on Avenue B and Eighth Street in St. Brigid’s in 1867.

Since 1864, McAllister tugboats, barges and shipping family still ply the waters of our harbor. Our great protected harbor, the prime reason the Dutch settled and world trade became centered here. I worked in the shipyards and tugs as a youth, including a wild offshore adventure.

But as a teenager, I was right around the corner at the Fillmore East a lot. The Fillmore was a spiritual place in my memory. It was where black, brown and white kids met through music and carried the message of our time: stop war, get together. I have this apartment today only because of the way the universe works.











What do you love about your apartment?

I was reluctant to live here. I got over the fact that the apartment is tiny after traveling the world and seeing poverty in many areas of the world. I realized how precious it is to have a small space, to have a space of my own.

I give thanks for the space and for the refuge. Having a tiny place has forced me to not have clutter. What you see here now and under here and over there is because my beloved mom passed away. I haven’t gone through all of her boxes yet. It’s an ongoing process.

A small place enables one to focus. I’ve been able to produce all of my documentaries and writings in this little space. At one time all of the walls had to be covered with storyboards. It’s become a sacred space for me.

It has also become a refuge to rescue two beautiful companions — my cats. I do have a penchant for space. I spend a lot of time not in this space, but in our city and in our neighborhood. I am compelled to spend much time in this neighborhood's religious spaces.

Within a 10 minute walk of this apartment in any direction, there is a Tibetan temple, a Hindu temple, three Jewish synagogues, a Catholic, Protestant, Episcopal, Russian Orthodox, a few Latino churches, a Sufi group, and a Mosque, etc. I've learned to love these sacred spaces and their faith leaders, the true living preservationists of the culture and history of our neighborhood.

I grew up with parents who were very open, curious, loving and very appreciative of other cultures. My father was a world historian and my mother lived the phrase “a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet.” She saw the best and the light in all people. It's the gift from these two humans. I just love the different faiths being so close and the ethnic diversity in a place where I could pursue my passions and not have to spend all of my money and time worrying about rent.

My heart and efforts go out to the youth today. We've lost most of all the mom-and-pop shops due to rents doubling and tripling. We've had to fight hard the developers and irresponsible DOB and landlords, but my apartment remains a refuge and a haven.

For decades my passion is to help stop the secretive, non-democratic nuclear weapons industry, with it's false sense of security, lies, their unfathomable taxpayer cost and great current threat to all life, climate and humanity.

The last large work made in this apartment is my 2015 film "Good Thinking, Those Who've Tried to Halt Nuclear Weapons."

What initially bothered me about my little place here is I didn’t have those cavernous spaces over my head where expanding thought comes more naturally. I so appreciate space. This little spot on earth forms the center of the universe, of a wheel where I can then venture out.



If you're interested in inviting Susan in to photograph your apartment for an upcoming post, then you may contact her via this email.