Becky Cooper travels the city with a blank image of
Manhattan, asking unknown people to fill in the areas that are important to
them. One author writes in the places where she lost her gloves, umbrellas,
earrings, books, etc. A recurring theme in the book is how Manhattanites stick
to certain areas and don’t venture beyond. This is something I can relate to,
as I never ventured into Harlem until I started working as a substitute teacher
back in 2002. By that time I had been living here for six years. I only went
into Harlem to teach, never for a construction job or takeout delivery. I worked
a Rice High School, right on the corner of 123rd and Lennox (or
Malcolm X. Boulevard, if you prefer) and every time I went to the Staples
store, everybody thought I worked there (big white guy, shirt and tie.) Whenever
I’m in that area, I always remember those days, even though the school is now
gone.
One lovestruck New
Yorker colors “her” city in pink (after all, she’s a kid) and marks the tops
half – titled “I’ve never been there” – in yellow. A grown woman draws in the
sites of her first NYC trip (at age 7 in 1967) where her grandparents showed
her the city in the era of Eloise. She saw a little man with a funny moustache
and pet ocelot (later ID’d as Salvador Dali) and the MOMA sculpture garden (she
thought it was someone’s backyard). Then she had lunch at a Times Square
automat.
Every New Yorker
has fond memories of their time here. I could draw a map of every art store
where I bought materials, some of them closed, some have simply come under new
management.
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