Browsing along in Curbed the other day, I came across a video that of course I, being a quasi-hipster, potentially-yuppie, near-suburban (although I’ve never lived in the suburbs, I have lived in the Midwest), organic-loving person would logically adore: Streetfilm’s Williamsburg Walks. The event, which opens up Bedford Avenue to pedestrians for a day, is meant to build community. At the very least, a few kids play in water fountains, and more people visit more local businesses. For real, who’s against that?!

Well, just look at the comments responding to the post, or really, of any blog post addressing gentrification. They’re brutal, and they’re ubiquitous: from a sardonic word to a physical threat, it’s as if we can’t remember that beyond the pattering of the keyboard are real people. I live in Morningside Heights, where it often seems that Columbia University plans to take over the world, and where nearby Harlem is threatened by losing cultural and historical authenticity. I admit my ignorance to the issue, but I also gotta say it: we suck at getting along. All of us.

In the approaching anniversary of the Tompkins Square Park Riot, I’ve lately felt a pall enshrouding the city, taking root, as if we are all in on a no-so-big secret: New York City is no longer what it once was. From economic woes to a false, consumable counter-culture to the rapid gentrification of multiple neighborhoods, tensions are high and tempers are quick. It seems preposterous, I know, for me to offer up these reflections out of a sense of sadness and loss, because as a white girl from the Midwest, I offer little (visible) change from the status quo. There is the sensation of being complicit in all of this, of being some version of lived hypocrisy, and there is also the feeling of inevitability, that is, of what else am I supposed to do, and where else is it that I should live?

At times I seek solace in the changing nature of the city, that New York has always been, and always will be, evolving and changing, for better or for worse, with tragedies and opportunities being played out in real time. There’s guilt, and confusion, but there is also excitement and practicality. I won’t offer to change who I am, I cannot live in a neighborhood with a higher price tag, and I love New York. That’s why I do espouse events like Williamsburg Walks, for as much as it represents the controversial evolution of a neighborhood, I don’t know how else people will get to know the people around them, to one day relate to each other, and create a new kind of neighborhood together.

I know I’m being idealistic. And I don’t want this post to create more excuses for more people to gentrify with little conscience or care. What I’m saying is that if change isn’t happening, then it’s already here. So here’s to making it more good than bad, together.