Whether you're excited or appalled by the planned building of a 23-story luxury rental tower at 626 Flatbush, you gotta respect the passion and savvy that has created what I can only describe as a truly organized grassroots opposition to unfettered development in Lefferts, in just a matter of a few short months. It may still be hard for some to put themselves in the shoes of those who feel emotional and radicalized by the sudden news of a "non-contextual" unaffordable (to most) skyscraper (well, relatively speaking) growing up in a neighborhood one's long loved and called home. But I urge you to try, so as not to feel that this is anything other than an honest and heartfelt expression of people feeling helpless in the face of changes that are effecting not just us, but huge swaths of Central Brooklyn, not to mention all of NYC, with lighting speed. And in the case of 626, it seems that not even the stunned cries of the "original intent" of the venerated park visionaries Olmstead and Vaux seems capable of applying the brakes.
So, if you're shocked by the hubbub, and you want to get a better sense of what's REALLY going on here, I suggest you attend this Saturday's big meetup on the issue at 4pm at the Jan Hus Church along Ocean Avenue across from the Park itself. First, the flyer below, and then some random thoughts I've collected from my own observations.
![]()
![]()
![]()
Suffice to say the "tower" has touched a nerve - deep you might say. In a single rendering, or actually two, drawn by the project's architects (Marvel), you can per se, there's a subtext here that reads loud and clear to many longtime residents. That message might sound like this: "Hey PLG! We finally discovered your neighborhood and are now ready to encourage ever-larger numbers of people, most richer and whiter than you, to "discover" it too. You people have had to live in such squalor for so long...I'll bet you're DELIGHTED to see us come and help clean things up a bit and make it safer and more desirable to the Modern American Post-Graduate Artsy Professional (MAPGAP).
Of course I'm being a bit dramatic, sort of. (And my term MAPGAP is not yet trademarked). But you can probably recognize the dismissive condescension inherent in some forms of city pPlanning and real estate development.
![]()
Maybe not, but then that may be because you haven't gotten to know a lot of the extraordinary folks who've called Lefferts Gardens their home for 20+ years. (Some 20+ year veterans may in fact support the project, but I have a sneaking suspicion the length of time in the neighborhood is at least one important indicator of feelings on the project). And things might just come out during the meeting on Saturday that might lead to some head scratching, about how exactly building plans like this come about and get green-lighted before anyone really has a chance to digest it all.
If you still have no idea what I'm talking about, I recently wrote a clumsy and inelegant allegory on the subject called The Qatarification Quandary. I'll also try to dramatize a thought I heard recently from an African-American neighbor who put it in away that I, a white dude originally from outside the City, could really understand. She could be talking about many places in NYC, or many cities across the whole country. And before you say that a building like 626 isn't about race, it's just sort of a natural economic thang, I encourage you to try the following on for size:
I think we all know a place like that, where you just feel a bit freer and yourself. For me, it's become Clarkson Avenue, but only after a few years of calling this block and neighborhood home. It used to be Ames, Iowa long ago, and then my college campus, and then the East Village and the lovely Gowanus Basin, and just about any dingy rock club in any American city. And on the whole housing justice tip I could go on, as I have in the past, about how renters really are being pushed out, sometimes legally sometimes not, and how rising rents may spell capital gains for people who own (like me) but eat away at the sense of security in others.
To some 626 is the tree...a very tall tree. But to others, it's the forest. And if you can't see the forest for the tree, then you may not be on the same page as someone else who does. Though I can guarantee we're all reading the same book, at least for now, and since it's one book in a whole series, we kinda know how this one usually turns out. And there will certainly be a reading from various pages of that book on Saturday, and even an attempt at a rewrite or two. So why not come on down? We can even come up with a few more hackneyed metaphors to describe the whole darn sitch.
, the one to the right is the architects actual drawing,
So, if you're shocked by the hubbub, and you want to get a better sense of what's REALLY going on here, I suggest you attend this Saturday's big meetup on the issue at 4pm at the Jan Hus Church along Ocean Avenue across from the Park itself. First, the flyer below, and then some random thoughts I've collected from my own observations.
Suffice to say the "tower" has touched a nerve - deep you might say. In a single rendering, or actually two, drawn by the project's architects (Marvel), you can per se, there's a subtext here that reads loud and clear to many longtime residents. That message might sound like this: "Hey PLG! We finally discovered your neighborhood and are now ready to encourage ever-larger numbers of people, most richer and whiter than you, to "discover" it too. You people have had to live in such squalor for so long...I'll bet you're DELIGHTED to see us come and help clean things up a bit and make it safer and more desirable to the Modern American Post-Graduate Artsy Professional (MAPGAP). Of course I'm being a bit dramatic, sort of. (And my term MAPGAP is not yet trademarked). But you can probably recognize the dismissive condescension inherent in some forms of city pPlanning and real estate development.
If you still have no idea what I'm talking about, I recently wrote a clumsy and inelegant allegory on the subject called The Qatarification Quandary. I'll also try to dramatize a thought I heard recently from an African-American neighbor who put it in away that I, a white dude originally from outside the City, could really understand. She could be talking about many places in NYC, or many cities across the whole country. And before you say that a building like 626 isn't about race, it's just sort of a natural economic thang, I encourage you to try the following on for size:
"Imagine you're black for a second - maybe African or Caribbean American. I know that's REALLY hard to do, but just give it a try. Every day as an honest and concerned professional doing your best to raise a family, you go to work in Manhattan in a neighborhood and in a job that's predominantly white, and for the most part about the white world. You're asked to function as a cheery member of the dominant culture in your dark skin, and you play the part well. You play by the rules, you don't complain when your coworkers make off-color remarks, you stay true to your beliefs that all people are created equal and even say a prayer for even the most ignorant of bigots. You might even have some good white friends with whom you can laugh about the absurdity of racism in an age of a Black President. And then, you get back on the train and you head home. You get off at, say, the Q at Parkside, and you feel a little bit of tension leave you, because you're back in your neighborhood, a place that ain't perfect, but it's your home, and you don't have to be anyone but yourself because this is a place you feel comfortable in your own skin"
I think we all know a place like that, where you just feel a bit freer and yourself. For me, it's become Clarkson Avenue, but only after a few years of calling this block and neighborhood home. It used to be Ames, Iowa long ago, and then my college campus, and then the East Village and the lovely Gowanus Basin, and just about any dingy rock club in any American city. And on the whole housing justice tip I could go on, as I have in the past, about how renters really are being pushed out, sometimes legally sometimes not, and how rising rents may spell capital gains for people who own (like me) but eat away at the sense of security in others.
To some 626 is the tree...a very tall tree. But to others, it's the forest. And if you can't see the forest for the tree, then you may not be on the same page as someone else who does. Though I can guarantee we're all reading the same book, at least for now, and since it's one book in a whole series, we kinda know how this one usually turns out. And there will certainly be a reading from various pages of that book on Saturday, and even an attempt at a rewrite or two. So why not come on down? We can even come up with a few more hackneyed metaphors to describe the whole darn sitch.
, the one to the right is the architects actual drawing,