According to multiple sources, the former St. Brigid School on Seventh Street and Avenue B no longer serves as a respite center for asylum seekers.
Sources said that the last asylum seekers left the school, which the Archdiocese of New York closed in the spring of 2019, on Friday, with a handful remaining until Saturday.
Mammad Mahmoodi, co-founder and executive director of East Village Loves NYC, who has been feeding neighbors in need since the pandemic, including asylum seekers, spoke with several of the former St. Brigid residents. He said the remaining asylum seekers were relocated in smaller groups to other respite centers around the five boroughs. Most of them were not aware of the move to new quarters until the day it happened.
Father Seán Connolly from St. Brigid/St. Emeric said the city's lease with the Archdiocese ends in mid-September. However, church officials said they were not included in any of the city's deliberations for use of the school.
The site was empty over the weekend, and with sources stating just a few security personnel remained on duty inside.
Asylum seekers — adults only — started coming to Seventh Street and Avenue B in late May for short-term stays. The space was said to accommodate 350 people, who slept on cots in classrooms and other open areas throughout the building.
As we previously reported, the city seemed ill-prepared to meet the needs of the new arrivals, primarily Spanish or French speakers, many of whom were from Venezuela, Ecuador and Mauritania. Many people showed up on-site via MTA buses without shoes, and nearly everyone possessed only the clothes they wore, lacking any personal belongings. The only provisions provided by officials were thin blankets adorned with the City of New York crest and small personal care kits.
Those fortunate enough to have phones were eager to locate a Wi-Fi connection to communicate with loved ones, yet the center had no access. In mid-June, after an unsuccessful effort to get the city to approval Wi-Fi for the space, Father Seán, the NYC Mesh Wi-Fi team and Paul Gale, a board member at the East Village Community Coalition, mapped out a plan to install equipment on the rectory of the church next door on Avenue B that provided access on the courtyard and some of the north-facing windows of the school and provided the asylum seekers with much-needed internet access.
Without a transparent chain of command, navigating the red tape and bureaucracy to provide the asylum seekers with food and other items was a never-ending challenge. Despite visible proof that the city needed help, they did not appear keen on accepting it. Some site staffers said they were reprimanded for assisting with providing aid.
Locals helped organize several clothing-and-supply distributions, and many East Village residents graciously donated a variety of items as well as their time. An interfaith coalition of local religious institutions also assembled a distribution outside the school. Cafe Mogador and C&B Cafe provided food, too... as did community group East Village Loves NYC. (EV Loves NYC later provided meals to asylum seekers at the Roosevelt Hotel in Midtown.)
Throughout the multiple distributions outside St. Brigid's this summer, many of the asylum seekers expressed gratitude and thanks for the generous help of the East Village residents who showed their support.
An ongoing crisis
According to various published reports, the city had 59,300 migrants in its care across 206 sites as of Aug. 20. Between Aug. 14 and 20, another 3,100 asylum seekers arrived in NYC, bringing the tally to 104,400 since the spring.
The city and state continue to spar (background here and here) over housing asylum seekers outside the five boroughs. Both sides say they need a better federal response.
In a statement Friday from the Mayor's office: "New York City has been left largely alone to deal with a national crisis that demands difficult decision-making. But let's be clear: the sites we are now finding are the only options left. This situation demands a broader state and national solution."
Meanwhile, though, for better or worse, this block has become the Food Capital of NYC with the celebrated likes of Butter Lane, Luke's Lobster and Porchetta, among others.
With all the heralded food, and more likely to come, I worry that this precious stretch of the neighborhood will simply become one big line of people waiting to eat.
A Park worker told an EVG reader: "The mayor's coming to talk about the homeless and they moved all the homeless so he wouldn't see them."
And the Park regulars were absent from the freshly cleaned area around the chess tables by East Seventh Street and Avenue A ...
[Photo by Steven]
...and the Mayor making his way from the Park...
[Photo by Steven]
Updated 5:30 p.m.
The Postreports that Avenue A and Park regular Jerry got the boot from the Park. (The Post refers to Jerry as a "drunk vagrant.")
“Politicians suck!” shouted Jerry Foust, 41, who had grabbed one of the blue folding seats in the East Village park set up for the mayor’s Tuesday afternoon press conference in hopes of hearing how he planned to improve life on the streets.
“I want to see what the mayor had to say about homelessness because I’m homeless and I want to f–king help homeless people,” he said.
But around 1 p.m., two cops approached Foust and booted him from the park, where he regularly hangs out and which is a haven for homeless encampments.
Foust said he was told to leave because he was taking swigs out of a bottle of gin, but was not issued a summons for an open container.
5:35 p.m.
The Mayor was there to announce that the city's Home-Stat program was now fully operational. Per the Mayor's office:
Mayor Bill de Blasio today announced over 500 workers are helping homeless people move from the streets of New York City to shelters with an array of services now that the Administration’s new HOME-STAT initiative has been fully staffed. The Mayor also announced that beginning May 2, the City will be adding three new homeless counts, in addition to the annual Homeless Outreach Population Estimate (HOPE Count).
“HOME-STAT represents an unprecedented response to street homelessness in New York City. Today, we are doing even more to count and connect homeless people to care. Every homeless person had a path to the streets. Each one needs to find a path back from the streets. It is our responsibility to help them get there, and we will continue these efforts until we reach each person. The only way to do that is to literally walk the streets.”
"Smithereens" starts a weeklong revival today at the Metrograph, the newish theater complex down on Ludlow Street.
The 1982 dark comedy, which marked Susan Seidelman's directorial debut, is set in the East Village (and other downtown locales). Wren (Susan Berman), a suburban New Jersey escapee, is eager for downtown fame, plastering "missing" posters of herself on the subway and elsewhere. She sees a meal ticket in Eric (Richard Hell), the hot guy with a short attention span in a band. And there's the too-nice Paul (Brad Rijn), who pursues the uninterested Wren. Hustling ensues.
Seidelman started filming in late 1979, and continued on and off for the next 18 months. (Production shut down when Berman broke a leg during rehearsal.) "Smithereens," made for $40,000, was the first American indie invited to compete for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival.
She went on to make several female-focused comedies, including 1985's "Desperately Seeking Susan" with Rosanna Arquette and Madonna and 1989's "She-Devil" with Roseanne Barr and Meryl Streep, among others. (She also directed the pilot for "Sex and the City.")
I spoke with Seidelman about "Smithereens" and her follow-up, "Desperately Seeking Susan," also partly filmed in the East Village, during a phone call last week. Here's part of that conversation, edited for length and clarity.
On why she wanted to tell this story in "Smithereens":
I was living in the East Village and I was also at NYU. And at the time, NYU Film School, the graduate film school, was on Second Avenue — part of it was where the old Fillmore East used to be. So for three years, that area around Seventh Street and Second Avenue was my stomping grounds.
I started NYU in 1974, and I was there until 1977. So it was interesting to watch the transition from the older hippie generation and hippie-style shops and people as it started transitioning into the punk and new wave kind of subculture. I was a music person, so I frequented CBGB and Max’s Kansas City at that time. And so, that world was interesting to me, and telling a story set in that world about a young woman who’s not from that world, but wants to be part of it in some way, was both semi-personal and just of interest.
On production shutting down:
There were challenges throughout the shoot because I never had all the money. The budget ended up being about $40,000, but I probably only had about $20,000 at any given moment. I was borrowing and racking up bills. I wasn’t really thinking about how I was going to pay it. I figured I’d get to that when I needed to pay it.
Aside from those challenges, when Susan Berman fell off a fire escape and broke her leg during rehearsal, there was no getting around that. We had to quit filming. I kind of thought, oh, you know, fuck it — I’m not going to let this stop me. It made me actually more determined. I had the time to look at what was working and what wasn’t working, and I learned a lot of stuff. I started editing the footage. I could rewrite stuff and change the story a bit.
On casting Richard Hell:
That was when we redefined the character of Eric, who was originally not played by Richard Hell. It was played by somebody else who was not a rock-and-roller — he was more of a downtown painter/artsy type, not a musician — and was also played by a European actor.
By recasting and redefining that role with Richard Hell in mind, it shaped the tone of the movie and changed it, I think, in a good direction. I’m not going to give names, but the other actor — the other person is a working actor, as opposed to Richard Hell, who was acting in the movie, but was more of a presence and an iconic figure even at that time. So trying to make the character of Eric blend in with the real Richard Hell added a level of authenticity to the film.
On filming in the East Village:
In the scene when Wren is waiting out on the sidewalk and the landlady throws her clothing out the window and then splashes her with water, all the people and all the reactions in the background were from the people living on that block who had come out to watch.
At the time, New York was coming out the bankruptcy crisis. There weren’t a lot of police on the street, there wasn’t a lot of red tape and paperwork. These days to film on the street, you have to get a mayor’s permit — so many levels of bureaucracy. Back then, either it didn’t exist … but also I was naïve to what probably needed to be done.
We just showed up with cameras and we filmed. We had some people working on the crew who were friends and they told crowds lining in the street — just don’t look in the camera. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t, but it was all very spontaneous.
That’s the advantage of doing a super low-budget movie — you can just go with the flow. For example, there’s a scene with a kid who’s doing a three-card Monte thing on the sidewalk. He was a kid we saw in Tompkins Square Park with his mother. We didn’t have to worry about SAG or unions or anything. I thought he was interesting and [we asked his mother] if they come to this address at this time and be in our movie.
On the lead characters:
My intention wasn’t to make likable characters. My intention was to make interesting characters and who had some element of ambiguity. There are things that I like about Wren; on the other hand, I think she’s obviously somebody who uses people and is incredibly narcissistic. I’m aware of that. But she’s also somebody who is determined to recreate herself and to live the kind of life that she wants to live, and redefine herself from her background, which you get a little hint at, this boring suburban New Jersey life she must have run away from.
On the independent film scene at the time:
The definition of an independent filmmaker has changed so radically. Nowadays, being an independent filmmaker could mean you’re making a $5 million movie that’s really financed by the Weinstein Company, or it could mean you're doing a cellphone movie like “Tangerine.”
But back then, there weren’t that many independent filmmakers. I know there were some people working out of Los Angeles who were doing stuff and a small pocket of people in New York City. So either you knew them or you were friends with them or you just knew what they were doing and had mutual friends. It was truly a small community. And within that community, there were also a definite relationship between people who were musicians, filmmakers or graffiti artists.
So everyone was borrowing people, trading information or sharing resources. Also, the world wasn’t as competitive as it is today. People were eager and willing to help somebody who was a filmmaker would act in somebody else’s film or tell them about a location or a musician. It was pretty simple, like — hey, let’s make a movie, without a lot of calculation.
On her follow-up film, "Desperately Seeking Susan:"
I didn’t have anything lined up after "Smithereens." I didn’t know what I wanted to do next. I just finished the movie when it was accepted into the Cannes Film Festival.
But I did know that there were very few female film directors. And the one or two I had heard about who had made an interesting independent film ... I knew that your follow-up movie, especially if it was going to be financed by a studio, you needed to be smart about the choice. You had to make a movie that you could still be creatively in charge of, or else you could get lost in the shuffle.
For about a year and a half, I was reading scripts. And they were, for the most part, terrible. I just figured these couldn’t be my next movie. I have nothing to say about this kind of material.
So then I got this script. It was a little different than the way it ended up being, but it was called "Desperately Seeking Susan." I liked that the character, Susan, felt like she could be kind of related to Wren in "Smithereens." I thought I could bring something unique to that kind of a role. So I didn't feel like I was out of my element there.
And also, part of the film was set in the East Village, a neighborhood that I loved and knew. The other good thing was I was so familiar with the characters and able to add my own spin using a lot of people from the independent film community in small parts, like Rockets Redglare, John Lurie and Arto Lindsay. Richard Hell has a cameo.
On working with Madonna:
At the time, Madonna was not famous when we started out. We were just filming on the streets like she was a regular semi-unknown actress. So there wasn’t a lot of hoopla around the film.
And then, you know, so much of life is about being there with the right thing and the right timing. It just so happened that the movie came out at the moment that her "Like A Virgin" album was released and they coincided and she became a phenomenon. But since that wasn’t during the actual filming, there wasn’t the kind of pressure that one would normally feel if you were working with a big star or a a super-famous person.
On the legacy of "Smithereens":
I think I was trying to document what it felt like to live in that neighborhood in that part of the city at that time. I never really thought about it in terms of whether the film would pass the test of time or be a time capsule or anything.
But the fact that it ended up being pretty authentic to the environment, to the neighborhood, is maybe what enabled it to pass the test of time.
-----
The Metrograph is showing "Smithereens," which features a score by The Feelies, on a new 35-millimeter print courtesy of Shout Factory LLC. Seidelman will be attending tonight's 7 screening. Details here.
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:
This plaque arrived last week outside 39 E. Seventh St., the longtime home (1963-2020) of Carol Joyce and her husband Bob here between Second Avenue and Cooper Square ...
"In Loving Memory of the Mayor of Seventh Street."
She's remembered here as "anti-establishment, outspoken, compassionate & witty."
In the early days of the pandemic last March, she and her husband stayed at a cousin's country home. While away from the city she died of cardiac arrest on March 22, 2020. She was 93.
She was born in the Bronx on April 1, 1926 ... and later graduated from Washington Irving High School.
Carol taught textile design for many years at the School of Visual Arts, and she wrote several books on the topic.
Here are few a excerpts from the essay:
Carol spent her adult life in Lower East Side rentals. In the 1980s, she and Robert Joyce founded the E. 7th Street Block Association which had trees planted, increased street safety and garbage pick-ups, and brought neighbors together at street fairs. Carol fought against gentrification, sometimes winning long battles to keep the heights of new buildings scaled to the neighborhood and protecting old brownstones from being demolished for high rises.
And...
I always viewed Carol with a bit of awe, as a wondrous, fantastical creature, a quintessential New York character. Bob Joyce said it this way, recalling his wife as "a New Yorker born and bred, with no tolerance for hypocrisy..."
Her only shortcomings, he noted, were that "she did not drink wine or eat pasta." He called her "the love of my life."
You can read the full essay here. Bob Joyce is now living upstate with relatives.
There have been several published reports (here and here) in recent weeks about the growing number of increasingly unruly travelers/crusties gathering on the northwest corner of Seventh Street and Second Avenue.
This past weekend, New York Post reporter Dean Balsamini wrote that he was allegedly punched by a traveler named Zeke, who apparently had a "farm-animal musk" and "Charles Manson eyes," per the article.
In response to these reports and a growing number of complaints from nearby residents and merchants, the NYPD last night set up a light tower on the corner, illuminating the sidewalk and empty lot — site of the deadly gas explosion in March 2015 — to deter anyone from congregating and camping out (apparently in keeping with the mayor's Omnipresence policing strategy).
[Photo by EVG reader Ryan]
In an email to local elected officials this past week, one nearby resident wrote: "It's terrifying to come and go day or night! They own the street and it's getting worse. These are drifters, not homeless to be pitied. Help before someone is murdered."
Another EVG reader worries that the corner can only get worse. Luxury condominiums are slated for part of the lot on Second Avenue and Seventh Street. The eventual arrival of a sidewalk bridge would only provide more cover for the travelers, who like this spot with its proximity to a LinkNYC kiosk and its free Wifi and charging station, according to the reader.
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:
This past week, workers removed the remaining sidewalk bridge and scaffolding on the west side of Avenue C between Seventh Street and Sixth Street in front of the NYCHA-owned building.
Per an EVG reader: "I've been living on C for 6 years now and can't remember a day when it wasn't a fixture of the buildings along that stretch of sidewalk."
However, the temporary boilers that arrived after Sandy in 2012 remain in place on Sixth Street...
... and via the EVG inbox... a benefit Sunday for post-Hurricane Maria Puerto Rican Relief at the Clemente, 107 Suffolk St. at Rivington on the Lower East Sode. More details here.
... and there's a Benefit for Hurricane Harvey Pets at the Ruff Club, 34 Avenue A between Second Street and Third Street, from 1-4 Sunday afternoon. Details here.
We spotted a few restaurant employees shoveling out their curbside dining structures today following the nearly 18 inches of snowfall in the past 36 hours...
This was the second major snow test for restaurants, forced to come up with alternate ways to serve patrons after the state shuttered indoor dining in March 2020.
The city banned curbside dining last night during the winter storm. (Plus, many restaurants aren't open on Mondays.) Most of the streeteateries looked to have weathered the blizzard.
Several of the less-sturdy-looking structures were damaged, such as outside Sushi Dojo on First Avenue between Sixth Street and Seventh Street (h/t to our friends at the DeColores Community Yard!) ... this space was not in use right now, as the restaurant is just offering delivery and takeout...
Thai Hub's tent space, still in use at times, on Avenue A between Sixth Street and Seventh Street was also KO'd ...
And Ramen Setagaya on St. Mark's Place between Second Avenue and Third Avenue didn't have much of a space anymore... this is a photo of it from Saturday...
The folks at the DeColores Community Yard also spotted damage to the curbside space at Ama Raw Bar on Avenue B near 12th Street...
And Eden points out the remains of the space at Jiang Diner on Fifth Street between First Avenue and Second Avenue...
Updated 2/3
Not an outdoor structure... but EVG reader Joe points out that the awning of the currently closed Nowhere came down on 14th Street between First Avenue and Second Avenue...
Asylum seekers — adults only — started coming to Seventh Street and Avenue B in late May for short-term stays. The space was said to accommodate 350 people, who slept on cots in classrooms and other open areas throughout the building.
