Alina Hadzovic
Professor Wood
Freshman Composition
3 October 2022
The Big, Rotten Apple
The Big Apple, my city, your city, our city, New York City. Appropriately named “the city of dreams,” New York City is home to millions of people and I have lived here all 18 years of my life. I know my neighborhood streets more than I know myself, and can name every avenue from West to East, forwards and back. I say “hello” to the man my mother told me to give five dollars to when I was six years old. I ask the deli worker I buy eggs from how her family is doing after she tells me my total is 3 dollars and some change. This city is unequivocally my home, for better or for worse. Being raised in the same building for so long has allowed me to understand the importance of community and courtesy, something I will never take for granted; there is not one person better or more qualified for something than another, a lesson my parents taught me.
Many Balkan refugees from the Bosnian genocide came to this Northeastern coast to escape death and find happiness in the in the humble luxuries America’s labor opportunities offered. Back home, they hear only positivity of New York from their two cable channels, dreaming of tall buildings made of concrete and dogs on leashes in the park instead of walking aimlessly with fleas on dirt trails. Since birth, my immigrant parents and extended family members have drilled the idea that all of America is the fertilizer for my aspirations, but specifically New York was the hub of opportunities and life. If you come to America for work, you aren’t given many chances for wealth; most male Balkan immigrants are either Italian restaurant owners (none of us are Italian, but the cuisine is simple enough to quickly learn and have similar ingredients to our cultural dishes- random vegetables cooked down and paired with a carb) or have jobs in construction (plumbing, superintendents or porters of buildings, inspectors, etc.). Women weren’t given opportunities for education in the past, so generationally speaking, none of us work. Cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents alike have entrenched this idea that putting education first will lead me to breaking this trend and making a name for myself in this restless metropolis. I was told to like and appreciate New York, so I did. I ignored my truth and traded the city’s countless disruptions for the beauties that are the Hudson River and manmade parks. I listened blindly, like any kid does naturally, and told myself I’d live here forever, like my older family members do.
When I turned eighteen, I didn’t know how to explain to my American friends that things would still be the exact same as they have always been. In movies, as soon as the protagonist comes of age, they are free to move out of their parents’ homes and reign unsupervised; I can only ponder what my parents would say if I brought up the idea of leaving the house before marriage. Although strange to some people, this is extremely normal in any Balkan home and is something I’ve had to adopt as my truth. Reasonably, my life is considered “old fashioned” to my American friends, since I forcibly listen to elders about outdated concepts out of respect instead of figuring out things for myself. To kids at my schools, it was a wild concept to do things with the idea of pleasing others in mind. When I complained about a 95 instead of getting a 100, I was told to “shut up” and “calm down” more often than the moon says hello to the stars. Knowing my parents came from nothing to comfortably living in New York City, it was extremely difficult to be happy with anything less than perfect; I had an impressive reputation preceding me. My education system was better than theirs, my neighborhood was safer and more reliable than their towns, my family was more supportive… I generally had it better off. Whenever you speak to anyone in the generation above mine, all you hear is how they came into this city with no money, teaching themselves how to survive- you assume New York City is where success is made. Frankly, they all have families and are objectively happy together. Yes, things have changed over the past few decades, but they’re all okay and have New York to thank. I was so proud to be a New Yorker, knowing I have come from a place where dreams turned into reality, where lives were made. It took me a long time to understand that this city isn’t magical and cannot hand you achievements. Truth be told, success comes from luck a lot more than people think, especially when you have no knowledge of English or any monetary, social, or physical understanding of the country, forget about this understanding of this hectic and overwhelming city.
Not only is this city bustling, it is also the definition of filthy. I’ve been in public school my entire life, something I’m truly proud of. In New York City public schools, you are forced to be educated in a common core curriculum. Part of that is learning about pollutants and how they affect your lungs, setting you up at a higher risk for illnesses like lung cancer, asthma, and skin diseases. Obviously, this entire country is in the midst of a climate crisis, but somewhere without such industrial culture emits considerably less toxins that we are currently exposed to daily. As amazing as the city is for immigrants, giving them the opportunity to safely get money and start families in their respective households, someone born and raised in this city has the exact same chance as any other educated English speaker. In the suburbs, I know that this anxious part of my life would be at ease, at least significantly compared to how it is now. I wonder sometimes how different my life would be if I had the experiences of the suburbs from a young age- football games, white picket fences, a rocking chair on the balcony, the whole nine yards. I’d like to think that I’d see New York as just another city instead of idolizing its magical properties from hearing about it my entire childhood. I feel like it would be so much more rewarding to raise a family in a smaller, safer, more quaint neighborhood where kids can explore life without fear or fret than in a city where you are notified of crimes daily just around your block.
Like any Balkan girl, my biggest dream is being a mother; my mind is permeated with the thought of starting a family in a blue house with a wrap-around porch and a backyard, something I cannot get in New York City without spending millions of dollars. Spending my childhood worrying about my health in such a synthetic environment is something I would never wish on the next generation. I’ve set my heart on being a high school teacher, and we all know that such a paycheck will not fly in supporting my desired reality. Thus, while my parents and their family members all came to New York with the intention of amplifying their own dreams, it is simply something I have to differentiate myself from. By having my dreams be so different from my parents, I have no need to be surrounded by tumultuous people in a soul draining city to support them. I’ve always been told I am a follower and not a leader, which I understand, but in this situation I have to put myself first and lead the way for my own future family to not feel pressured to believe in the city like I did.
Modern society is shaped in such a way that we are sort of bound to constantly compete against each other, or even ourselves. We are always trying to reach our short-term goals and trying to better ourselves to match the expectations set upon us by society. Many of us are guilty of working long hours and getting less sleep each night; we travel the extra mile and feel content that we have achieved perfectionism. We toil in and out every week; even during the weekend ‘relaxing’ and ‘having a good time’ seems like a forced chore. The city is a well-known competitive place, with people all over the world coming here for work opportunities and trying to be at the top of the success pyramid. As a consequence, we end up being too hard on ourselves all too often without even realizing. All of us are more or less stuck up and consumed by our work, social interactions, life goals, weekend plans and so on. There is not one person in this city content with the place they’re in right now. Everyone wants to be better, make more, reach greater heights. This society is packed with dreams, aspirations, and goals. Each and every human being has something they are working for; for the most part, this city is a splendid place to nurture those dreams into reality. My dreams, anyhow, would absolutely and positively die in a place like New York.
Thinking that a city would fill a void I felt inside of myself is unhealthy, that the constant rushing and change would distract me from the truth. I first had to tune inward to myself and found a weak void, something no pleasure discovered in my neighborhood could fill. Society talks highly of self-love, and how it is extremely important for a happy and healthy life. There’s this well-known notion of self-care or loving yourself that can be seen as “selfish,” but I see it as the most selfless and loving thing we can do for the world. When we are kind and compassionate to ourselves, we can fully show up as that for the world around us. The issue with New York City is that many don’t feel they have the time or energy to love themselves without wasting moments that could be used productively for work or socializing. It feels that the city is on 1.5x speed compared to the rest of the world, moving ahead and making accomplishments that other towns and states just admire from a distance. While I will always consider myself a “city girl,” I know deep down in my heart that such a busy, loud, industrialized life is not meant for me. Despite taking 18 years to realize this, I accept the truth for what it is- that New York City may be my city, but it isn’t the city for me.
