Last night, I was biking home in Bed-Stuy when I saw lots of cop cars, barricades and hundreds of people waiting in line. I asked a cop what was going on and he said, “a party.” I asked for what and he said, “oh, it’s just a party.” This woman who was standing next to him said, “it’s not just a party! It’s for the anniversary of Biggie’s death. Puff Daddy is coming!” Then the cop turned to me, teacher-like, and said “well there was this rapper, named Biggie Smalls…” I cut him off, laughing and rolling my eyes. I said, “I might be white, but I’m not that dumb. I know who Biggie Smalls is.” I knew he used to live in Bed-Stuy, too. The woman laughed and the cop shrugged his shoulders.
First, this cop obviously has very few white friends. Second, I’ve heard multiple white friends between the ages of 22-28 mention in passing that an influence on their move to New York or specifically Brooklyn was Biggie Smalls. I’ve been shocked when I’ve heard white people reference Biggie Smalls in major life decisions, even if it is said sort of lightly. But there I was- a white college educated woman, wearing full soccer gear, on a road bike at 10pm in Bed-Stuy shocked that someone would think I didn't know who Biggie was. I think 20 years ago, Biggie would have been shocked to see me in his neighborhood acting like I knew him. This got me thinking about the individuals in the system of gentrification. What influences us gentrifiers?
What do you think?Are 20-something whites interested (or at least not as scared) to live in a black, lower income neighborhood, because they grew up seeing representations of the hood on television and in music? Has the mainstreaming of hip-hop and "black culture" had a significant influence on the pace and type of gentrification?
WARNING, this video has some adult themes and explicit language.
