Grove Street Family

Feeling homesick wasn’t expected. While I spent my days in the back-and-forth grind of retail sales, I would always find time to go back home to Grove Street. We may have been the last generation that truly “grew up” together, and my people in Bushwick have continued to be a steady anchor in my life. My visits were short, but going back to where it all started always brought me a sense of nostalgia. Even to this day, seeing the blades of grass across the field reminds me of every game we ever played, every ball we ever threw, and every touchdown we ever scored. In an era long before group chats, we had to get together as a group to chat, and in a time of loneliness and depression, having lifelong friends to vent to was key to my survival. After making my rounds, I would head back toward Fresh Meadows, where the long dark roads took me further away from the red carpet lifestyle I craved so deeply. One thing I’ve learned about fame is that it is not tangible, and is ever-eluding. Stuck somewhere between “making it” and “made it”, I stayed the course, hoping to hear someone say “I’m proud of you”.

Similar Posts