The Word

Finding Balance between Orthodoxy and Hip Hop: An Artist Combines Both

In a secluded corner of Prospect Park, Tzvi Levine, a 22-year-old resident of Kensington, Brooklyn, ground some weed, made a joint, took a puff, and began strumming his guitar while improvising a song. The sinking-sun shone golden on his clean-shaven face, the trees cast long shadows, and Levine’s Nike sneakers tapped to a beat. He looks like an average Brooklynite: jeans, a white t-shirt, Buddy Holly-glasses frames. He sat on a fallen tree trunk crossed diagonally over poison ivy and rotting foliage. A plastic shopping bag beside him contained a cucumber and iceberg lettuce. Levine often brings raw foods with him to enjoy their “pureness”, and occasionally, he’d take a bite. Perched next to him, Yoni Krakauer, Levine’s friend of only a year, removed his kippah before reaching for a smoke. The two meet here to unwind. There are no rules to follow, and they can speak freely. Levine notes that it’s a place where he can feel in-touch with nature.

During the day, Levine spends time with his nine siblings in his parents’ Jewish Orthodox home: he sings on the couch, plays games, or reads books when they return from school. He currently has no day job, and is largely supported by his parents by means of food and housing.

At night, Levine is a hip-hop performer, attending open mics in Brooklyn, making connections, and hoping to gain popularity as a white artist in a predominantly black community that created hip hop as a reaction to oppression from white people.

Levine was raised Orthodox, but decided to forgo his religion after being expelled from his mesivta, or Jewish high school, at the end of 12th grade for poor attendance. “I didn’t like authority there,” said Levine. “I hated the way that the rabbis had power and I hated the way that they knew more than you. There were ten-hour school days and at one point we slept in dorms.”

As Levine grew up, he encountered a disconnect between the strict laws of Orthodoxy and his own interests. Levine had grown up in a musical family, and had taken interest in non-Jewish music that he heard away from school and his home. “When I was in 9th or 10th grade, I felt repressed from the school and the class I was in because they forbid us to listen to non-Jewish music, even if it was “clean,’” Levine said. During this time, Levine discovered hip hop music. “A friend of mine put Not Afraid, an Eminem song, on my iPod Nano,” said Levine. “He found some way to not make it show up unless you searched for it.”

Not Afraid was the catalyst to Levine’s interest in hip hop. He became interested in the technicalities of rhyming to rhythms and spent time trying to compose his own similar work. As his interest in the non-Jewish world increased, Levine spent less time attending classes, and thinking more about life outside Judaism.

After leaving school and choosing not to continue the path to yeshiva, Levine’s parents became increasingly unhappy, ultimately banning him from their home. Levine was sent to live with his grandparents in the neighborhood, picking up a telemarketing job after being encouraged by his grandfather. Levine has no current intention to attend college. He has held a series of part-time jobs since leaving school, but is currently unemployed.

Living in the basement of his grandparents’ house gave Levine the freedom he lacked in his own home. “That’s when I was able to do whatever I wanted,” said Levine. “I really got into hip hop then because I was free to listen to non-Jewish music. I also started watching porn and smoking weed.” Growing up in an Orthodox community, Levine sheltered from the outside world. “I grew up without a TV or movies, and no non-Jewish music whatsoever,” said Levine. “All of these rules would have stayed with me forever, but I just stopped following them.”

Levine would sneak out the back door at night, unknown to his grandparents, but made sure to be home for Shabbos each week, putting on a kippah before entering his home.

Levine’s telemarketing job allowed him to save money to buy recording equipment. After being allowed to move home over a year later, Levine took over the empty garage in his backyard. He began to create his own music inspired by the hip hop he had listened to. “I made a song, and it was like a white-boy knockoff of Eminem,” he said. “It was about being different.” Songwriting and performing was easy for Levine. “I grew up singing, and I taught myself to play guitar,” he said.

After posting the song to an online hip hop forum, Levine was contacted to attend an open mic. He continued to write songs inspired by artists like Kendrick Lamar and MF Doom, often with explicit lyrics that contrasted the tenets of his upbringing.

Levine chose to tell his father about his interest in hip hop, but not to his siblings. “I told my dad that I could write rap really well,” said Levine. “But he just asked what my back up plan was going to be.” After showing his father the music he had written, he started to take his son more seriously.

Levine’s father, who recently graduated from NYU’s Silver School of Social Work, has been supportive of his music and non-Jewish interests. “I think my dad is sort of proud of me as a hip hop artist in certain ways: he’d show non-Jewish people what I’m doing,” Levine said. “He even brought me into his class once to lecture about weed.”

Levine’s mother takes a more hands-off approach to her son’s diversion from Orthodoxy. “My mom doesn’t say much about what she thinks of me because she’d rather not learn about what I’m up to,” Levine said. “She’s going to get hurt by what I say or what I do with my life because she’s afraid.”

After establishing himself back at home, Levine started to attend open mics in Bedford Stuyvesant or East New York. He became enamored with the community. “I was able to meet a lot of people who encouraged me and gave me connections,” Levine said. But even as he tries to be an optimist about his experience, he’s also had trouble fitting in. At a hip hop party in East New York, a woman took the stage to criticize Levine for being white. “She singled me out and started talking about me saying that I was coming there to take their culture,” Levine said.

“Most people who don’t like me aren’t interested in seeing me as a person, but then they realize I’m respectful, and that I grew up in Brooklyn just like them,” Levine said. “I’ve had a lot of bad experiences, but the good ones outweigh them.”

Levine has found an expanding group of people who accept him and hope to help him gain recognition within Brooklyn’s hip hop community, but when he returns home to Kensington, he is happy to blend into the crowd. “Kensington and Borough Park are like Manhattan,” said Levine. “It’s so diverse there, and nobody cares who you are. Sometimes if I want a favor, I’ll make it known that I’m Jewish by saying something in Yiddish. Otherwise, everyone minds their own business.” Even Levine’s siblings have become used to him. “My baby sister just thinks that I sleep all day,” he said. “When I’m not at home spending time with my family, they don’t question where I am.”

Living a double-life between hip hop and family life has helped Levine evolve his musical style. “My music doesn’t usually discuss being Jewish, but the sincerity in which I sing is reflective of my upbringing,” said Levine. Levine realized that hip hop could include more than rap: he heard performers sing at open mics and soon adapted that style to fit his own voice.

At a Bedford Stuyvesant open mic that Levine hadn’t attended before, he approached the crowd with a song that predominantly relied on vocals and chorus, rather than rap. At the end of his song, Levine was accompanied by a loud ovation.

Moments like these encourage Levine to continue writing and performing. “It’s a life direction, not a money-making career,” said Levine. “I don’t see it taking me anywhere, but if it does, I’d love to get enough recognition to allow me to work with Kendrick Lamar or Anderson Paak. I enjoy collaboration because I want other people’s influences. It’s about community.”

At Prospect Park the following day, Levine brought a cucumber to enjoy alongside music and weed. Krakauer, who has known Levine for only a year sat beside him. Krakauer isn’t a fan of hip hop, but still supports Levine. “He has beautiful melodies and chord progressions, so I wonder why Tzvi even raps at all,” Krakauer said, suggesting that Levine’s talents lie in the “jam-sessions” he and Krakauer engage in. Levine plays guitar, and the two of them sing together.

“It’s very difficult for me to figure out how hip hop and Judaism mix because I don’t see it very clearly,” Levine said. So, Levine uses this time to find contentment and reason in a segmented life. Despite no longer being a practicing Jew, Levine remains spiritual on his own terms. “My spirituality is happiness, and from playing guitar,” Levine said. “It’s contentment from being grateful for everything you have.” For Levine, happiness comes from enjoying the things around him in their most natural state: nature, raw food, air. “I don’t connect to a specific god anymore,” he said. “The world is perfectly made for us to live in.”

When Levine returns home, he sleeps on the bottom bunk of a room shared by three of his siblings. He drapes a blanket from the rim of the top bunk, creating a closed-off space for him to relax. “This is the only private space I have in my home,” said Levine. He has no plans to move out of his parents’ house, and has no intention of quitting hip hop anytime soon. “I’m a very simple person,” said Levine. “I sleep and eat at home, so I don’t need much money.”

 

New York’s Hidden Holiday Hardships

“I’ve learned to live with my limitations,” Eila Koski, 73, says as she plants one crooked foot before the other, one frail hand gripping a swiveling chair while the other grasps a shaking cane. She hobbles down her apartment’s narrow hallway to her bedroom, where piles of newspapers, sheets, magazines, boxes, and socks are stacked on every surface. A wardrobe sits in the corner, drawers open and shirts draping out. Koski’s own shirt is a bit too large, perhaps having fit in the past, but now slips off her left shoulder as she pushes stacks of paper off her armchair so she can sit down.

Ms. Koski is among the 560,000 elderly in New York City who are confined to their homes. These men and women comprise 40 percent of the city’s elderly population, reported in the 2010 census. She also belongs to another isolated group: homebound elderly who don’t expect any visitors this holiday season, except for a brief food delivery from Citymeals on Wheels.

In New York City, 44.3 percent of people 85 or older live alone and often live below the poverty line, according to a 2014 report by the NYC Department for the Aging. The study states that elderly people living alone in the city risk social isolation, contributing to factors of disability and deprived access of care.

New York and other cities tend to have more isolated elderly because people are living longer and having fewer children, says Victor Rodwin, 67, an NYU professor of health policy and management. It’s especially common on the Upper East Side, where Koski lives, because many elderly residents, the majority female, are “house-rich but cash-poor,” he said. They can afford their often rent-controlled or stabilized apartment, where many have lived for decades, but live on fixed incomes and struggle to buy groceries and other necessities.

Citymeals on Wheels feeds more than 18,000 homebound seniors delivered by about 300 staffers. The busy schedule leaves little time for socializing. “There’s a very small window that our staff can spend with the seniors because they have so many meals to deliver,” said Vivienne O’Neill, director of volunteer programs. But she said that the staff still make time for some friendly conversation and that those few minutes make a huge difference in the lives of the seniors.

Many volunteers are well aware that they do more than just deliver food. The work is a mental health project, according to volunteer Veronica Torres, 18, a New York University student studying global public health. “Their lit up faces when they see us at the door with food is indescribable and invaluable, and they deserve to have that more often than just through deliveries,” Torres said.

Since it began in 1982, Citymeals on Wheels has tried to find new ways to make connections with the elderly, such as its hand-written holiday letter program, as well as the “Senior Chat” and “Senior Script” programs where volunteers can create a written or online correspondence between themselves and isolated seniors.

Yet the thousands of socially isolated elderly in Manhattan are largely unseen, said Alicia Flores, the volunteer supervisor for Citymeals on Wheels at the Stanley Isaacs Neighborhood Center on 93rd Street. Flores insisted that seniors need to see “friendly faces” more often. “We need more people to go and just talk to them,” Flores said. “If you say you don’t have to go and deliver more meals, they keep you there forever! It’s sad, it’s really sad. But it is what it is.”

For some, like Eila Koski, 73, there’s no family left in the U.S. She emigrated from Finland in 1968, and most of her relatives live in Sweden. She’s lived alone at the Knickerbocker Plaza apartment building on Second Avenue for five years, and said that she has not seen any family since 2013. “They have their own life,” Koski said. “My children have their families, work, and their children. They can’t just come here.” She has two older siblings who have not visited her due to their own health problems.

Koski used to enjoy outings to the Isaacs Center, but has not gone for years due to health problems. “Taking care of myself takes all of my time and energy,” Koski said. “I would probably have gone to Sweden myself by now if not for my health problem.”

Asked about her plans for this coming Christmas, Koski expects to enjoy a holiday meal in the quiet of her home. “I know it’s not possible to see my family more,” Koski said, her fingers fidgeting with the spectacles in her hands. “I have had enough entertainment in my life, I don’t really require anything.” Yet upon leaving her home, she leaned over her armchair, widened her large, blue eyes, and asked, “Do you have to go?”

A night in night court

Manhattan Night Court. Photo Courtesy of Google Earth

Every night, between the hours of 5 p.m. and 1 a.m., a palpable cloud of hopelessness and despair hangs thick over the defendants of New York City’s criminal court. The familiar scene of primarily unkempt, poverty stricken, mostly non-white citizens awaiting their bail hearings was disturbingly juxtaposed on a recent Monday night by the nonchalant chattering of the in-house lawyers, judges, and safety officers whose bodies, if not spirits, could be observed occupying the same space.

“There’s not much to report in there,” a public defender said, indicating the court room that would soon decide the fate of 11 living, breathing individuals.

Nowhere in America is the systemic idea of the “undeserving poor” more easily evident and realized than in a $10,000 bail decision levied against a homeless drug-addict. Ten out of 11 defendants on trial at New York City’s criminal court this night were ethnic minorities. Three out of 11 were homeless. All cases ,but two addressed drug crimes, and all cases but one, resulted in the judge’s advancement toward prosecution.

A young Latina woman’s grandmother wept quietly to herself in the third row of the wooden benches, as her terrified granddaughter Amanda entered the court chambers before the proceeding began. Just beside Amanda, an unaffected officer killed time by conversing with an off-duty lawyer and munching on candy, merrily indifferent to the emotional temperature of the room in a perfect display of the business-as-usual mentality of the American criminal justice system.

While the United States represents only five percent of the world’s population, it is responsible for 21 percent of the world’s population of prisoners. Research also strongly suggests a racial/economic status bias in bail decisions. The system is flawed and, for a prime opportunity to see this inequity in action, one needs to look no further than the TripAdvisor verified tourist spot known as New York City’s night court.

As her family watched on, Amanda awaited a crack-cocaine sentencing, the mounting anxiety of every passing minute visible on her face. Conversely, the public servants holding her future in their hands milled about their night in no apparent rush, before ultimately settling on a $10,000 bail amount and a trial date. In an instant, Amanda was reduced to yet another data point in the radically disproportionate statistic of America prosecuting its ethnic minorities.

The night continued on, as case after case saw people of color and the impoverished fall victim to the glaring statistics. In a country where two-thirds of those arrested are white, but two-thirds of those incarcerated are black, it was little surprise that every African-American facing a drug sentence received consequences in the form of hundreds of dollars in fines or thousands of dollars in bail.

One African-American man, arrested earlier in the day at Marcus Garvey Park, pled guilty to possession of a dime-sized bag of marijuana and was forced to pay a $225 fine. This penalty stands in stark to contrast to another hearing from just last week, when a white NYU student who had gotten caught smoking marijuana received nothing but a reprimand from a night court judge to “not do it again.”

This leniency was not extended to Melissa, a 28-year-old homeless woman who had unwittingly sold crack-cocaine to an undercover officer. On Monday, she stood in defeat before the judge after her lawyer failed to lessen the $10,000 bail appointed to her.

“She had two pipes on her,” her lawyer stated. “She’s not only selling crack to live. She’s also a drug addict. My defendant is 28-years-old and has never been convicted of a crime.”

Obtaining enough food and water just to make it through the day is a daily struggle for drug-addicted Melissa, who now has an absurdly unattainable $10,000 bail price hanging over her head. With very little chance of rehabilitation in jail, it is more than likely that Melissa will ultimately return to the streets, a felony holder still addicted to crack-cocaine and a product of a criminal justice system that overwhelmingly favors the economically elite. Meanwhile, the white and/or wealthy young people across the city, who enjoy a more-expensive form of the same drug that has ruined Melissa’s ’ life, will continue to snort lines in dorm rooms and nightclub bathrooms without any real fear of having to answer for their own drug infractions.

The last hearing of the night belonged to a friend of Amanda’s, 20-year-old Jose. Sitting slumped next to a police officer, the young man was seemingly well-aware of the harsh inevitability of his conviction. His parents, exuding a bit more outward confidence, could be seen gesturing toward their son in an apparent attempt to inspire hope of a near-statistical impossibility, whilst presumably suppressing their own feelings of anguish.

Melendez’s parents pleaded with their legal aid lawyer to attempt to get their son released, as they simply did not have the thousands of dollars required to pay his bail.

Their hopes were dashed before Jose even had a chance to stand before the judge. Throwing on his puffer vest and NorthFace coat, their son’s court-appointed lawyer cut a swift line toward the court’s exit doors. It was almost 1 a.m.. and he was apparently off-the-clock.

“I’m going home,” the lawyer informed them. “That lawyer is going to take over your case.”

Jose is now awaiting his criminal trial in a jail cell.

(Last names have been withheld to protect the accused)

Students say NYU finals season is a health hazard

NYU Bobst Library is the scene of many all night student sessions.

Every chair on the Lower Level 2 of Bobst Library yesterday, was occupied by a student hunched over their laptops with eyes fixated on their screens and fingers glued to their keyboards. Every study room was booked and every outlet was in use.

Papers were sprawled across the floor as students sat on the sides of the hallway, barely making room for passersby. Some study groups were even assembling on the couches of the main lobby. This was not just a snapshot of a day in Bobst Library—this is Bobst Library 24-7. It’s finals season.

“It’s been a time of suffering,” Zahra Watson, a second-year Marketing major, said.

Watson, like many other students at New York University, are beyond stressed about their finals, sacrificing their physical health for a letter grade. Some stay at the library until 3 a.m., or keep working until they go to their 8 a.m. class the next morning.

“I haven’t slept in the past couple of days,” Watson said. “I’ve been living off of Red Bull and Starbucks.”

According to a study in the Journal of Adolescent Health, college students are more likely to have erratic sleep schedules, poor quality sleep and are highly at risk for major mood and substance abuse disorders. But sleep is not the only thing college students miss out on during this stressful time of year.

“I forget to eat… a lot,” Noah Kim, 20, said. “I’m always so into my projects and always thinking about ideas.”

Kim, a film major at Tisch, has been stressing about thinking of ideas for his final film project. According to Kim, most students at NYU don’t believe that Tisch kids have finals, but Tisch final projects are just as, or even more than, stressful as finals at other schools.

“This final project shows everything that you’ve learned throughout the semester and how much you’ve improved,” Kim said. “I just feel stressed and sick.”

Others feel as if finals season is affecting their entire wellbeing beyond their sleep schedule.

“I would label myself as an active person, but during finals season, my body cannot recover the same way,” Nicholas Tong, a student on the pre-med track, said. “I’m lethargic.”

While the immense stress of finals season may simply be a rite of passage in college, high stress levels for a prolonged period of time can cause poor cardiovascular health and lowered immunity, according to the Vaden Health Center at Stanford University. Some students believe that professors can take measures to ameliorate the pressure on the general health of the student body.

“Perhaps professors should space out the tests even more, but I can imagine that navigating those logistics would be pretty hard,” Tong said.

But coping with the madness of finals season is not a lost cause. Some students are taking measures into their own hands to destress.

“I don’t stress as much because I realize one bad grade won’t kill you,” Sally Wu, a freshman at Gallatin, said. “I also take lots of naps.”

When final exams and paper deadlines are quickly creeping around the corner, it can be difficult to balance academic effort with physical wellbeing. According to USA Today, experts recommend some helpful tips such as reaching out to counselors, communicating with professors, and of course, an adequate amount of sleep.

“We often look at mind and body as two different things,” Tong said. “But it’s actually one thing. if we take care of our bodies, we take care of our minds.”

 

 

NYU Students enjoy the extended warm fall weather

It’s a mild fall semester at NYU.

While La Nina’s threat of harsh rain is expected to wreak havoc in the coming weeks, New York City is experiencing unusually high temperatures for the month of November. NYU students, routinely bundled up from head to toe by this time of year, are rejoicing.

All around campus, spirits are high, even as finals season quickly approaches; and Washington Square Park, generally a ghost town by the winter months, is still buzzing with life. Street performers, tourists, and students alike are taking advantage of the mild weather.

Owen Tynes, a native New Englander and NYU sophomore eats lunch on the park benches by the fountain every Tuesday. Thanks to the recent swell of warmth, he is still able to enjoy his turkey sandwich in the sunlight this late into the year.

“I have such a busy schedule I don’t have time to go home and eat in between classes,” Tynes said. “I look forward to chilling out in the fresh air for a few minutes every day. I’m happy I can still do that without freezing my butt off yet.”

Like many students, Tynes is still expecting a cold winter to approach in the coming weeks. Senior Manas Malik, recently stocked up on Uniqlo jackets to prepare for what he thinks is going to be a chilly season.

“I’m from California, but I’ve been here four years and I’ve yet to have a warm winter,” Malik said. “No way it’s going to last, but hey I wouldn’t complain if it does.”

Around midtown, Junior Maria Goetz, indulged in a nightly run to relieve stress after pre-med classes. She thanked the consistent warm weather for keeping her in shape this year.

“This time last year I was huddled in my dorm room escaping the snow.” Goetz said. “It’s almost December and I’m still running up to Times Square and back every night. It’s great!”

While still enjoying the September like weather, Environmental Studies student Tess Lancaster said the warmth served as a constant reminder of the rapidly changing climate.

“Over the past 10 years, what we’ve seen take place temperature and climate wise is something that should be taking place over 100 years,” Lancaster said. “So there’s no time for the eco-systems of earth to catch up. It’s a scary thing.”

Despite worrying statistics, Lancaster said climate change hasn’t gotten to the point of being irreversible yet.

“A little sunshine isn’t something to freak out about,” Lancaster said. “I definitely like not having to wear a coat out every day.”

Annual average temperatures have increased in all regions of the state as a result of climate change, which eventually, without drastic preventative measures, will have harmful overall effects. For many NYU students, however, a warmer New York City winter is a desirable occurrence.

“I’m just a happier person the warmer the weather,” sophomore Stephanie Tjoa said. “Especially around finals season, a cloudy day really affects my mood. I’d take 60 and sunny year round.”

Grad Students protest GOP Tax Plan

Students protest against the GOP Tax Bill.

Using the Hashtag #gradtaxwalkout, thousands of students protested the GOP tax plan which includes a significant raise in graduate student taxation, yesterday. New York University students joined the nationwide protest during a rally hosted by different New York graduate unions at Union Square.

“Tax the rich, not the poor, you won’t have TA’s no more” protesters chanted. They said that a tax raise would cause many graduate students to drop out and therefore critically reduce the current number of teaching assistants (TAs) available at NYU.

Many graduate and Ph.D. students get their tuition waived for teaching courses or supporting their professors in research projects. The GOP tax plan, among other things, would affect about 145,000 graduate students by adding these tuition waivers to their taxable income. For some this would mean a de facto doubling of their annual taxes. For instance, a $40,000 tuition waiver added to a student’s taxable income would mean an increase of $6,000 in their tax load.

“It is obscene,” NYU doctoral student Steven W. Thrasher wrote in a widely discussed New York Times article on Wednesday, “that Republican members of Congress are even considering shifting a tax burden off the likes of Donald Trump and his heirs and onto overworked, underpaid and sometimes even homeless graduate students.”

Besides taxing tuition waivers, the GOP bill seeks to eliminate tax credits for students who pay tuition as well as the interest deduction on student loans. Though many undergraduate students at NYU said that they are worried about the tax plan proposal, many of them rather look at it as a theoretical threat that will not have any immediate effects on their studies. For Ph.D. and graduate students, the threat feels more real.

“If Congress implements the GOP tax bill as planned, next year I will pay about five times more in taxes than I normally do,” NYU Ph.D. student Gabriel Young of the Graduate Student Organizing Committee (GSOC/UAW) said.

If the tax plan became reality, his real income will fall by about 25 percent, he said.

“I would likely be forced to leave my doctoral program,”Young said. “This tax bill is a direct attack on vulnerable graduate students who are already grappling with uncertain labor conditions and employment prospects.”

Demands have already been made towards the NYU administration and president Andrew Hamilton to protect students. In a press statement released on Wednesday, several New York graduate unions led by NYU’s GSOC/UAW demanded commitments to ensure that the income of student employees will remain the same if the GOP provision passes.

“We are calling out our university administrators for their complicity in the continued attack on graduate student working and living conditions,” the statement said.

According to CNN, Congress will vote on the bill later tonight or on Friday. After Senator John McCain gave an official statement supporting the bill today, the chance of the bill getting approved is now higher than it was ever before.

The Monkey King of Union Square

 

In Union Square, Yongxin Fu, better known as The Monkey King held court over passersby.

Clad in a colorful red costume and monkey mask, he spun a five-feet yellow-and-red rod rapidly and rhythmically with one hand, then suddenly hurled it into the air and caught it to the delight of the crowd.

Every day for the past three years, Fu, 65, has performed as the Chinese mythological figure “Monkey King” in Union Square.

The Monkey King is a legendary character in “Journey to the West” one of the Four Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature and a representative of Chinese culture. During President Trump’s recent visit to China, the Monkey King  was one of the Peking Opera plays that Chinese President Xi Jinping welcomed him with.

“Not many people here really know about Peking Opera, or the Monkey King,” he said. “But they are at least curious about it.”

Fu is a retired doctor and an amateurish Peking Opera performer. He migrated from Zhejiang, China to New York in 2014, to be with his children who had lived here for decades. He intended to continue his Peking Opera career and brought all his  costumes and instruments.

 

Yongxin Fu, performs The Monkey King, a Peking Opera in Union Square, Photo by Siqi JI

“I started practicing the acrobatics of Peking Opera when I was 13,” said Fu. “Peking Opera has been an essential part of my life.”

But Fu could barely find opportunities to perform in New York City so he took his passion to the streets.

His family was not thrilled with his dream of performing on the city streets.

“Because street performer is not a decent occupation according to Chinese traditional social norm,” he said. “But I am a stubborn person. I just told my children that I would go crazy if I kept doing nothing.”

His vision has been a success. His colorful performance draws crowds. Passersby stop and snap photographs with him and his tip jar overflows with bills.

Ben Vasquez, a 29-year-old model from the Bronx, loves the Monkey King.

He carried a photo of him and Fu taken two years ago on the same day at the same place.

“Anytime I walk by, I stop and look at him,” said Vasquez. “I love Monkey King. I love the outfit of it, the film about it, everything about it.”

 

“Monkey King” fan, Brandon Vasquez poses  with Yongxin Fu. Photo by Siqi Ji

Fu gives the crowd a good show. He pays attention to every detail especially his costume which he  described  as a golden chain mail shirt, a phoenix feather cap, and cloud walking boots.

“And the stick is called the Golden Cudgel,” he said. “It is Monkey King’s magic weapon.”

For Fu, promoting Chinese culture and earning money are just a bonus for doing what he loves. His main goal is to stay healthy by practicing acrobatics.

“So I am happy even if I cannot get any money for a whole day,” he said. “At least I gain health.”

Although Fu speaks no English, language never gets in his way.

“Frankly speaking, there is no one at Union Square who I don’t know,” he said. “For me, they are all counted as my friends “I just use my body language to communicate with them. Whenever I come here, I feel like I am home.”

Giant Pumpkins in New York

When Joel Holland started growing pumpkins, it was meant to be just a fun activity with his children. Thirty-five years later, Joel holds the record for the heaviest pumpkin ever grown in North America, at 2,363 pounds.

Holland came to New York City from his home in Sumner, Wash. last weekend, along with other giant pumpkin growers, to showcase his pumpkin at the New York Botanical Garden.

The botanical garden’s annual Giant Pumpkin Weekend featured giant pumpkins, squash and gourds from around the world last Saturday and Sunday.

On display was Holland’s pumpkin. It is heaviest in the world this year, and the heaviest pumpkin ever grown in North America, said Gayle Snible, the botanical garden’s public relations director. The event also featured the longest gourd grown in the United States, at 143.75 inches and the heaviest squash in the world, weighing 2,118 pounds.

Holland, a retired firefighter, grew his record-breaking pumpkin at his home in Washington. A former long distance runner and National Senior Games swimmer, he said, “It’s about doing your best to be the best at whatever sport you do.”

Holland’s fellow growers describe him as a “legend.” “He won’t say that – he’s too humble. But he’s a legend,” said Ken Desrosiers, a software engineer and giant-pumpkin grower from East Windsor, Conn.

Desrosiers said he came to New York for the weekend to support his friends in the giant pumpkin growing community. “We’ve all gotten to know each other since we first started doing this,” he said.

The growers harvested seeds from their pumpkins at the Giant Pumpkin Weekend in a live display for visitors. Desrosiers said the type of seed is what allows the pumpkins to grow so large. “We pick specific seeds and pollinate the plants by hand,” he said.

The growers will use some of the seeds to grow their pumpkins in future years. They will give the rest to pumpkin-growing clubs, which auction off the seeds for funding, said Stuart Paton, a grower from Southampton, England.

Paton said the seeds are worth around $50 when they first come out of the pumpkin. He said their value could skyrocket, though, if they are proven to grow world record-size pumpkins. Referring to Holland’s pumpkin, he said, “Next year, the seeds could be worth $600-700 each.”

Paton and his brother were awarded “Grower of the Year” this year by the Great Pumpkin Commonwealth for growing the three heaviest pumpkins by combined weight. Their heaviest pumpkin, at 2,269 pounds, is the second largest in the world and was on display at the botanical garden.

Paton, a professional florist, said he helps visitors to his greenhouse in Southampton grow their own giant pumpkins. “You just need some soil and seeds, and you can grow a 500-pound pumpkin,” he said. Paton said the pumpkins can grow at a rate of up to 50 pounds per day. Pointing at several children sitting on top of Holland’s pumpkin, he said, “The best thing is seeing the kids take pictures with them.”

Doggie fall fashion on display at city dog park

Charlie clad in his iconic red and black plaid scarf . Photo courtesy of Instagram

Charlie, better known as @Charlienycwheaten on Instagram strutted into Stuyvesant Square Dog Park  and paraded around in his signature red and black plaid scarf. Charlie was not the only fashion icon in the dog park.

Owners pulled out all the stops for their pups recently at this trendy dog park runway. Puppy-sized jean jackets over stylish heather-grey t-shirts, loose fitting sweaters and flannels, and even shoes or booties were sported by almost every dog in the dog park from Chihuahua to Doberman. It’s fall in New York City and the season’s dog fashions were on full display.

“They just look so cute,” said dog enthusiast Joan Mukogosi. “It’s like fashion week, but fluffier.”

Charlie’s Instagram following is consistently growing as his owner have turned his profile into a fashion blog for dogs of sorts. This wheaten terrier’s iconic look is the plaid scarves he wears.

“We get a lot of ideas for new dog trends coming to dog parks,” said  Charlie’s owner, AlyssaPham.

The snazzy outfits didn’t stop the dogs from running, jumping, and playing. Packs ran together in search of a squirrel to chase or just shuffled and sniffed around. Others raced in laps around their owners or towards the balls and toys they tossed.

But even the most stylish outfits were not without utility.

Rocky, a French bulldog sported a denim vest over a stylish grey t-shirt with black booties. Rocky chased Charlie and Buck, a well-dressed pit bull. Buck was clad in an ombre red sweater that covered his front paws and draped over most of his back. The three dogs made a strong case for fashion forward, comfortable dog apparel.

Minnie, a shiba inu, was one of the few dogs in the park not sporting any fall apparel.

“I didn’t know dogs could still play like that when they’re dressed up,” said new dog owner, Kelsey Minnery.

But fashion forward dog owners want their dogs to be as stylish and comfortable as they are.

“I usually choose outfits for Buck based off what I want to wear,” said owner, Greg Adcock. “But his comfort is always the deciding factor, if he can’t run around and have fun it’s not worth it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

From kill shelter to Manhattan penthouse

Carter, the rescue dog, lives a luxurious life in Manhattan. He is a regular at the Washington Square Dog Park. Photo by Natalie Parker

Carter is your average successful Manhattan native. He wakes up every morning at 7 a.m. and heads out for a morning run to start his day. He spends his down time at Washington Square Park and often transitions between his vacation home in Hermosa Beach, California to his brownstone on Beacon Street in Boston throughout the year.

Carter, a 3-year-old terrier, leads a comfortable life.

But Carter has not always had three homes. He was once homeless and living on the streets in Queens. Like many of the rescue dogs in Manhattan, Carter’s family saved him from a kill shelter when he was a puppy.

“It’s becoming cooler to have rescue dogs,” Carter’s owner, Chris Perez said. “Shopping for dogs definitely carries a stigma.”

Despite Carter’s neglected life on the streets, Perez said Carter has grown to become a very friendly dog. He visits Washington Square’s Dog Park daily, greeting the various dog owners with affectionate licks and runs around with the other canines until he tires out.

“He loves to play with the other dogs,” Perez said. “All of the dogs in this park are always super friendly and playful.”

Carter was not the only recuse dog at the park. Eleven, out of the 13 dogs in Washington Square’s Dog park yesterday afternoon were rescues. Four out of the 13 were pit bull mixes. Although pit bulls have some say an unfair reputation for being aggressive dogs.  New York City’s recent dog culture might be trying to change that.

Dog owner, Briana Stamatis, said that rescuing dogs is starting to become the new cultural norm.

“Buying dogs from a breeder is not a thing that people want to own up to anymore.” Stamatis said. “Adopt, don’t shop.”

In  affluent areas like Greenwich Village, dogs are being rescued from shelters and taken into high income homes where their quality of life is exponentially increasing.

Manhattan resident and dog owner, Rony Atkin, said she comes to Washington Square Dog Park with her dog every week and sees new rescue dogs every week.

“I’ve met very few dog owners who bought their dogs from a breeder,” Atkin said. “In the city the dogs are all rescued. So many of them are pitties too, and they’re all so sweet.”

A  recent study by Animal Care Shelters shows that 93% of dogs and cats are being rescued from shelters.

Some dogs, like Carter, end up living a life of luxury.

“I don’t think Carter even remembers his old life,” Perez said. “He’s too busy enjoying his penthouse apartment to stress about it.”