3.25.2010

on the 50th anniversary of clason point gardens

CLASON POINT GARDENS JOURNAL
CLASON POINT GARDENS JOURNAL; For 50 Years a Home, a Real Home
By MARIA NEWMAN
Published: August 6, 1992

A SWAMPLAND that separated the Clason Point Gardens housing development from the Bronx River 50 years ago has long been drained, and the nearby mom-and-pop stores are also long gone -- replaced by the sort of high-rises that have given public housing a bad name.

But Clason Point Gardens, the first public housing project built in the Bronx, remains to this day, remarkably, what it was meant to be a half-century ago: a good place to raise a family, and something of an oasis from the hubbub that surrounds it. With its low-slung structures that provided every family with a tiny plot of land, Clason Point Gardens was a piece of the suburbs in the city.

As they marked the golden anniversary of their community a few days ago, some residents of Clason Point Gardens said they can't imagine living anywhere else.

"I always loved it because it was like having your own little house," said Sophie Schottler, who moved into the development in the southeast Bronx in 1942 with her husband and two children, one of them an infant. Mrs. Schottler had an afternoon's worth of memories about her children -- there were four of them eventually -- playing in the courtyards with other children, and the mothers who all knew one another didn't worry about them as they went about their housework.

Mrs. Schottler's children are grown and moved away now, and much else has changed about Clason Point.

The 43 whitewashed cinderblock buildings were built to house the families of servicemen coming back from or going off to World War II. In a brown-toned photograph of the dedication of the community in 1942, the ladies gathered around a stage of speechmakers are wearing suits with stiff shoulder pads and hats on their upswept hair. The men are dressed in coat and tie. Everyone is white.

On Saturday afternoon, at a gathering to celebrate Clason Point's 50th anniversary, the sounds of a salsa band on a mobile stage poured out into the summer air. Later, a group of teen-agers wearing matching T-shirts that said "The Power of Love" crooned gospel songs.

Today, about 40 percent of the 1,020 residents of Clason Point Gardens are black, and another 40 percent are of Puerto Rican descent, according to the New York City Housing Authority, which operates the development.

"Everybody else moved out, but I was happy here," Mrs. Schottler said of her neighbors from the early days. As the population of the Bronx and the rest of the city was changing in the 50's and 60's, a generation of Clason Point families moved away, to the suburbs, to Co-op City or out of state. In some families, while the children grew up and moved out, the parents remained. Mrs. Schottler, who recalled paying $2.80 a week in rent at first, has never thought of leaving a place that to her seems almost pastoral, and removed from some of the rougher elements of the area.

"I say if you want to move, move -- I'll stay," said Mrs. Schottler, who will be 75 in December.

In 1970, Mrs. Schottler held a wedding reception for her daughter in the family's backyard. Gathered here 22 years later, the family members still laugh over what happened to the wedding cake. "One of my friends went to catch the bouquet, and my mother was walking by with the cake," said the daughter, Mary Lou Gaglio. The two ran into each other, and the cake landed in a guitar case.

"So we served it right there from the guitar case, upside down," said Oscar Nordstrom, who is married to another of Mrs. Schottler's daughters. "It tasted the same."

In the years after the dedication of Clason Point Gardens, the Housing Authority went on to build dozens of huge high-rise buildings. Now, 50 years after it was first built, common wisdom among housing advocates and developers is that the ideal way to build public housing is in the style of Clason Point Gardens -- smaller, closer to the ground, more manageable and ultimately more livable for working families.

While there have been a myriad of changes at Clason Point, one thing hasn't changed, residents said: the thread of family life continues to run through the community.

On Saturday afternoon, a family decorated the shady courtyard behind their apartment with white crepe-paper bells. They pinned white carnations to the shrubbery, and coiled white Christmas lights around the trees.

Mary Johnson, who has lived at Clason Point Gardens for 21 years, was preparing for her daughter's wedding reception. For three days, Mrs. Johnson had been baking turkeys and hams. "Today the day is shining and the stars are going to be bright," said Mrs. Johnson, dressed in a flowing turquoise dress and matching headpiece.

"It's a community thing," she said. "My daughter was raised here. Everyone has their weddings and all back here. Everybody gets along."

Map of the Bronx showing location of Clason Point Gardens.

old cpg i miss the bronx

the hood

This seems like a Team C Reunion

This seems like a Team C Reunion

haven’t seen half this class

in about a month

Come every once in a while

during the day wasting time

on absolutely nothing

The disgusting truth is the ease of distraction

Masters at reaction instead of revolting

can wrap a dutch tighter than jeans

Mind infatuated with fantasies can never touch

flip pages while daydreaming

twist haze keep scheming

The sun will never set

wishing you could stay a teenager forever

talking shit street knowledge quite clever

disconnected from the mission

still trapped in mental prisons

wailing at the walls nobody ever listens

The back of your destiny

has been stopped by panic

mans claws digging in your back

trying to take advantage

Handle the damage

by saying you tight or you mad

So lost yelling Wepa

don’t know the history of your flag

So amazing so young they blazing

what’s the occasion

a school high better than high school

all these shorties free lunch plus you can act a fool

your moms away at work don’t even have a clue

you alone in the streets bent with your homies

even with bills and a baby due

A mixtape describes your emotions

The intro serves purpose

You? never nervous

Give all this angry hot fire some airplay

Put that exclusive energy in rotation

Give suffering a shout out

and death no dedication

The outro outlines the point of your research

provide a solid thesis highlighting your main idea

must be freedom understood make that clear

Wish you could freeze this year

your age your privilege even your gear

those petty possessions don’t define you

can’t take it when you gone so far

off the map paranoid roaming don’t know where you are

You are the embodiment of love pain and struggle

Reflections of young moons and brave stars

God bless the youth for constantly seeking the truth

not just the child who got his own

Education from the root

This community is your home

where there is no place like it

even though you hate us

we love you don’t fight it


I am staring at a class of young minds

I am staring at a class of young minds

Who have yet to take first steps

But have been running marathons

Towards the capital of nowhere fast

Thinking they have the exact coordinates

But too bold to dare say they are lost

The cost to pay attention

Comes with a high interest rate

They never want to owe

Unless it is multiple zeroes behind balance

So acquainted with death

They give him shoutouts on the radio

Dedicate steady mobbin to the grim reaper

Listen to their best friends

More than their teachers

Because pressure makes more sense than a lecture

Born hustlers still waiting for the day

The cage will trap their freedom

Evaporate their dreams away

The rainbow only exists in fairytales

Happilyeverafter was once upon a time

Perfect hybrid of hope and hurt

Kids smoke away the worse

Praying for the best vision of success

Seen on the TV screen that has become a mirror

Reflecting a reality that has been distorted

Record their revolution upload it to YouTube

Hoping you are moved to give 5 stars

A favorite or maybe add them as a friend

Means to an end means the world will end

2012 before they began living

They started planning the aftermath

Distasters last longer than invisible rubble

Only things guaranteed taxes and trouble

All the money been off the books

They never dared to crack

Judging all text by the cover

If it’s hot then it’s that crack

Relax once they relapse on ignoring the facts

Back against graffiti wall

Still trying to figure out the tags

Screaming que bonita bandera

Don’t know the history of the flag

Pants sag because they always show they ass

Conspicuously silent about real shit

Today’s youth

Become tomorrow’s question mark too quick

Foolish genius still searching though clueless

If education is their passport

What are the rights of its citizens

Must stand up instead of giving in

To the temptations of a lovely lonely ghetto

Where you are the only person

Who hears the echoes

Of children falling in the forest of the projects

Wake up to the nonsense of neglect

In all our villages

We need to raise the youth

With love

Power

Respect

 


3.04.2010

Freedom is the air we breathe



Freedom is the air we breathe



Feeling of floating while running



Towards the future with a smile on



 



Actively liberate mind from mental prison



Voice reflection of soul hoping the world will listen



Spirit grounded on firm earth



But flying amongst stars



 



On the toad towards peace and justice



There is no map of your destiny



Just the footprints your heartbeats made



In the bittersweet concrete



Various devils try to suffocate your screams



For worldly desires need to knowledge



Your history has been clouded by horrorscopes



Forecasting stop and frisk



Merely stepping out on the block you risk



Victory being victimized and your ambition assaulted



Your integrity will be xrayed



Inner strength examined for factory flaws



Drop your drawers to see the size of your doubt



Strip search your social security



Feel all around your ankles



Hiding knifesharp nouns you verbal vandal



Insult your intelligence equalize your IQ



Your brain waves will be bodily scanned



Masterplan for you to keep nothing inside your hands



Empty pockets and emptier pockets



Abolish your authenticity



Prevent positivity place pride in penetiatary



No opportunity for parole



This life sentence a broken slanguage



Cry of anguish they want to loop



Remix for your chart topping hit single



Make you’re a one hit wonder



Who has still yet to uncover the secret to success



Is beneath brown skin



In front of faith



Right next to your belly aching for revolution



You announce I’m officially alive



To the demons who want you to die



Embrace your energy move magically to mastery



Assassinate the apathy they have implanted inside



Fortified foreigners invade your veins



Disconnect from the mainframe



Running marathons underground



Below surface to discover the purpose



When you wake you see wanted



Mugshots of mystified worthless



Who has wasted the basic better days



Trying to find the exit through the maze



Running cynical circles around silence



Thinking your low volume won’t offend the neighbors



But your clarity must be crystal



They got missiles pointed at the mothership



Try to make you think freedom



Is some other shit



But this life



Is the only trip




So familiar feeling foreign

So familiar feeling foreign

My mind two sides of the coin

Flipped to make decisions

After effects of the outcome

Are authentically ancient

Running outta time no more patience

With the aches and shakes of reality

Rubbing skin raw

Suffocated by mandible claw

Manufactured by natural resources

Robbed from ancestors palms

There’s a war going on

Holding beyond calm

Chiller than cooled ice cream

The moment before melting

Leaking across ceiling

See through raising the sky to a level

Of surface cracked ground

Puddles penetrate the promises

The premises are broken

Shattered pieces provide evidence

That edutains the mainframe

Disconnected when stars become

Distant distinct dots

Circumstances an instant

Catch the instinct of the block

Combine your confines and walking blind

See if you can still find

Footprints of recent paths

The journey various yellow brick roads to freedom

From the breakadawn past the PM

They have executed orders of insecurity on your local social

Violently assaulted your vocal

So these words have wounds

As syllables send SOS to the moon

So maybe the sun will smile back in the afternoon

Give us a shout out on the way back through the hood

Solidly jiggly boogieing like jello

Been born into tragedy with wicked mores like Othello

Symbol of uprising fist engulfed in flames

Different rules to the game

All these cheats must just give extra life

Hard to make it back when every breath is a sacrifice

What you gain you lose

What’s lost is a higher cost you couldn’t afford

Even if the details were on super sale

Piece together meals that will sustain

Surround yourself with sympathy so you won’t have to explain

The continual episodes after this eternal break

Reverse directions start again

Reset turn off your system been full powered

By internal energy plenty of time to waste

Not knowing when the Reaper will collect

This shield must be pounded

The heart will be bulletproof to be bruised

This life rotation like a record

With a needle stuck in the groove

The hood is on your side

But you still need to show and prove


Apparently

Apparently
Your ghosts have called you back
To the backpark of the Boogie
How many moments have been spent
Watching your shadow
Feelin jealous because he can disappear
Whenever the sun goes down
The old lottery tickets
Blunt wraps leftover leaves
Painted over grafitti
Have forever remained true to setting
Why did you find yourself
The other night
Weeping and regretting
Your current global positioning
When you try to reply instantly
The top highlights of this decade
You are stunned by your own lack of clarity
Lack of definition for the final sum
Add up your luck
Carry over your slumber
Subtract your cynicism
Multiply your memories
Divide the doubt
Your simple mathematics have left you
Staggering stumbling wondering
Where did all the love go
How did your family evaporate
In thick air without figuring the aftermath
You are the lonely historian
Capturing stories of brighter yesterdays
The wind screams wake the fuck up
But you thought one day
The sky would read the true meaning
In surround sound high definition 3rd dimension
Without questioning one of your first lessons
Worked overtime to evade your outerspace
Fantasies of the universe handing you
The key to eternal happiness on a drivethru session
You are no longer allowed to say
Maybe it was that one time
Because the clock has forever rotated around
You escaping the cracked concrete ground
With first class tickets to staying stuck
While observin the power of Pa’lante
Been paralyzed by petty prisons
Probation’s pain still chained to the cage
The page been your psychologist
You gave your soul on the stage
World witnessed you are brave
But inside shades of fear have financed
Your future freely as the earth’s economy
Is about to end
Dearly beloved
Every letter has been returned to sender
Have you opened the envelope
Every note was sealed with a kiss
To reminisce
About when you greeted life’s anniversary
The essence of adolescence
Left you with scars where those tears traveled
Using cocoa butter to heal
Pork po got you loco
You stutter when you reveal
Details of decisions daily reminder
Lack of discipline wishing instead of willing
Killing visions while chilling in uncomfortable systems
In this version of the revolution
A vida revision is needed our stories rewritten
Education to emancipate
Learning to liberate
Early elevation ignoring popular procrastination
You can use the planet as your playstation
Not the projects as your plantation
In this manmade jungle
Where your consciousness can crumble
Like evil eggshells
You walk on must march on critical
Born into criminal minded you’ve been blinded
Must be constantly reminded
Of courage in your casa
That has shaped every palabra into a bullet
With your voice as a loaded weapon
To defend your intellectual property
You been lost in the philosophy of the ghetto
While hearing ancestors’ songs
The spirits move your body to be strong
Stand up no stiiting no quiiting on your tradition
Building a dynasty to establish legacy
You been dipped into a predestined mold
The story yet to be told
Actors haven’t been cast
You can keep it real
Did you even think you could last?
On that point show your amor circulate your smile
Because that frown will fix your face like that
You don’t want to run from your mistakes
You should wrap your arms around each one
Say good looking out to your good fortune
In place of analyzing your emptiness
Overstand your abundance
You are rich with handshakes and hugs
Pockets bulging with laughter
Stomach full of sazon
Mind affluent with activism
What is holding you back is the first step
Off the curb and it feels like you will drop
You will keep falling until you awaken
But this is reality and the journey won’t begin
Until you push your heart beyond those benches
Remember you used to tag ACER PIC BX endless
Excuse me sir said the corner
Do you have anything to say?
Me I’m just happy
To
Be
Today

eso es

Apparently
Your ghosts have called you back
To the backpark of the Boogie
How many moments have been spent
Watching your shadow
Feelin jealous because he can disappear
Whenever the sun goes down
The old lottery tickets
Blunt wraps leftover leaves
Painted over grafitti
Have forever remained true to setting
Why did you find yourself
The other night
Weeping and regretting
Your current global positioning
When you try to reply instantly
The top highlights of this decade
You are stunned by your own lack of clarity
Lack of definition for the final sum
Add up your luck
Carry over your slumber
Subtract your cynicism
Multiply your memories
Divide the doubt
Your simple mathematics have left you
Staggering stumbling wondering
Where did all the love go
How did your family evaporate
In thick air without figuring the aftermath
You are the lonely historian
Capturing stories of brighter yesterdays
The wind screams wake the fuck up
But you thought one day
The sky would read the true meaning
In surround sound high definition 3rd dimension
Without questioning one of your first lessons
Worked overtime to evade your outerspace
Fantasies of the universe handing you
The key to eternal happiness on a drivethru session
You are no longer allowed to say
Maybe it was that one time
Because the clock has forever rotated around
You escaping the cracked concrete ground
With first class tickets to staying stuck
While observin the power of Pa’lante
Been paralyzed by petty prisons
Probation’s pain still chained to the cage
The page been your psychologist
You gave your soul on the stage
World witnessed you are brave
But inside shades of fear have financed
Your future freely as the earth’s economy
Is about to end
Dearly beloved
Every letter has been returned to sender
Have you opened the envelope
Every note was sealed with a kiss
To reminisce
About when you greeted life’s anniversary
The essence of adolescence
Left you with scars where those tears traveled
Using cocoa butter to heal
Pork po got you loco
You stutter when you reveal
Details of decisions daily reminder
Lack of discipline wishing instead of willing
Killing visions while chilling in uncomfortable systems
In this version of the revolution
A vida revision is needed our stories rewritten
Education to emancipate
Learning to liberate
Early elevation ignoring popular procrastination
You can use the planet as your playstation
Not the projects as your plantation
In this manmade jungle
Where your consciousness can crumble
Like evil eggshells
You walk on must march on critical
Born into criminal minded you’ve been blinded
Must be constantly reminded
Of courage in your casa
That has shaped every palabra into a bullet
With your voice as a loaded weapon
To defend your intellectual property
You been lost in the philosophy of the ghetto
While hearing ancestors’ songs
The spirits move your body to be strong
Stand up no stiiting no quiiting on your tradition
Building a dynasty to establish legacy
You been dipped into a predestined mold
The story yet to be told
Actors haven’t been cast
You can keep it real
Did you even think you could last?
On that point show your amor circulate your smile
Because that frown will fix your face like that
You don’t want to run from your mistakes
You should wrap your arms around each one
Say good looking out to your good fortune
In place of analyzing your emptiness
Overstand your abundance
You are rich with handshakes and hugs
Pockets bulging with laughter
Stomach full of sazon
Mind affluent with activism
What is holding you back is the first step
Off the curb and it feels like you will drop
You will keep falling until you awaken
But this is reality and the journey won’t begin
Until you push your heart beyond those benches
Remember you used to tag ACER PIC BX endless
Excuse me sir said the corner
Do you have anything to say?
Me I’m just happy
To
Be
Today