NY Times Community Garden Article : Rincon Criolo - please call and forward
- Subject: [cg] NY Times Community Garden Article : Rincon Criolo - please call and forward
- From: aresh firstname.lastname@example.org
- Date: Fri, 26 Sep 2003 09:29:51 -0400
Dear gardeners and friends,
It is very painful to read this neo-colonial article in the New York Times. The writing patronizes the garden, while blindly legitimizes plans to drop bombs on this Puerto Rican island of hope. This is the same story line we have had to correct, as we preserved over 500 community gardens. This was while we advocated for truly affordable housing on the tens of thousands of vacant lots that were auctioned to the highest bidders.
Rincon Criollo Cultural Center played a large part ti bring justice to our communities. They brought their Internationally renowned gift of bomba & plena music to the front lines. Their drums, and voices represented the spiritual roots of the community gardens and of Puerto Rico. They sang our songs, at endangered gardens, parks, City Hall (again and again), the State Court in Brooklyn, and all the way to the doors of Elliot Spitzer the State A
ttorney General in Albany.
Rincon Criollo Cultural Center is in many ways a holy sight for all of New York City and the thousands who pay homage to her. This community garden brings deep meditation, religious ceremony, and sustenance. It heals and nourishes all those who enter this oasis, with an open loving heart, seven days a week.
Here are some of the ways to help:
Contact and strongly voice the below 2 key players:
1. Nos Quedamos/ We stay, Executive Director Yolanda Garcia phone:718-585-2323 Fax:718-585-8628 email: email@example.com
Presently Nos Quedamos is working towards a comprehensive plan for the community gardens. Demand that Rincon Criollo is made a part of it.
2. Councilmember Jose M. Serrano, Executive Director George Torres or the Policy Analyst Nicholas Arture: (718) 402-6130, fax(718) 402-0539, firstname.lastname@example.org
Please Demand Rincon Criolo must stay (nos qudamos!) in its present site.
Moving the garden would be tenement to suicide. All members of the garden and the larger community are united in staying.
Amend the plans and build around the garden (as done with many houses big and small) !
>The Melrose Community is overwhelmingly in support of making all the
20 Community Gardens permanent where they stand.
>There are over 2000 local resident signatures as well as a large group
of business and spiritual leaders in support of the Melrose Community Gardens!
> The "Melrose Common Plan" which covers many sites, was passed by all the governmental agencies in 1993. As with many other Urban Renewal Plans it can be amended*.
Each individual site must to go through the Uniform Land Review Process (ULURP) ie be approved by the Community Board, the Councilmember, the Borough President and the Mayor.
Council member Foster has actively stopped a neighboring "Urban Renewal Plan"
from bulldozing critical community gardens in Morisainia and is negotiating making many of them permanent
> Even if we covered every inch of this area there will be thousands of homeless people. The community gardens have given food and safety to many homeless people.
> We can achieve equal or higher units of housing by building one or two floors higher (increasing the zoning). Unnecessary 3 floor townhouses with parking lots (city planning counts that as open space) are taking over critical c
ommunity green spaces.
Rincon Criollo contact: Carlos Torres, cell(646) 283-6253 email TatoBrujo@aol.com
moregardens.org, 212 533 8019
Bronx Haven Is Threatened, but Denizens Still Dream
September 26, 2003
By ALAN FEUER
Summer ends the same way every year at Rincon Criollo, a
tiny wooden bungalow at Brook Avenue and 158th Street in
Jose Soto eats an apple from the apple tree he planted 30
years ago. Louis Ramos tends his pepper and tomato gardens
in a plot behind the shack. Felix Rivera hums along to
island folk songs as Red the cat curls up beside the radio.
Jose Rivera, no relation aside from friendship, slowly
drinks a beer.
Not much has changed for decades at Rincon Criollo, or the
Down Home Corner, one of the oldest Puerto Rican-style
casitas in New York. For years, the men here have welcomed
autumn by fooling themselves with harmless fantasies that
er ways and breezes will go on forever. For years,
they have also fooled themselves by ignoring the fact that,
sooner or later, their communal hangout will be gone.
Nearly 13 years ago, city, state and federal agencies began
to put up condominiums as part of the Melrose Commons
development project, which now threatens the casita - the
Spanish word for "little house."
Five years ago, the city's Department of Housing
Preservation and Development took control of the land to
speed the plan along.
Three years ago, a community group called We Stay/Nos
Quedamos got an $8.2 million federal grant to continue the
development by building houses for the poor and elderly of
And this year, like most, the efforts to displace Rincon
Criollo have ground on. The end has not come yet, though it
"It's closer than it's ever been to getting done," said
Yolanda Garcia, the executive director of We Stay/Nos
If it seems somewhat strange that a communi
y group like We
Stay/Nos Quedamos wants to displace Rincon Criollo, which
after all is a thriving part of the community, Ms. Garcia
reluctantly agrees. Still, in her mind, building low-income
housing in the Melrose section of the Bronx is more
important than maintaining the gardens and traditions that
have flourished at the casita for nearly 30 years.
"We have to achieve a balance," Ms. Garcia said. "There are
homeless people here. There are people tripling and
quadrupling up, and they need housing. It's called change.
And when the winds of change blow in, everybody trembles."
Strangely enough, no one seems to be trembling all that
much at Rincon Criollo. It is possible the men do not
believe their cherished place will be destroyed, but it is
just as possible that faced with its inevitable, if not
imminent, destruction they simply do not wish to believe.
Felix Rivera, a 68-year-old retired taxi driver, wandered
the paths beneath the grape vines just last week. The dir
was dappled with spots of broken sunlight. The air smelled
tartly of not-quite-ripe autumnal fruit.
He spoke about the place in an unapologetic present tense
that was nonetheless inflected with nostalgia.
"This is my home," he said. "I come through the gate every
day sick like a dog, but when I leave I feel like a
brand-new guy. All my problems, I leave over there."
With that, he gestured to the gardens. "I talk to God like
in a paradise," he said.
Mr. Ramos, 56 and recently retired from the United States
Census Bureau, was bent above his pepper vines the other
day, the unlit plug of a cheroot stuck firmly in his teeth.
He was born in Puerto Rico, but left when he was 2. He,
too, said he thought of the casita as his home.
"Just looking at this place, I went through a transition,"
he explained. "Like a rebirth. It tapped my memory and
brought back my parents in Puerto Rico. I never felt like I
belonged in New York City - there weren't any palm trees,
the people di
t speak my language. But when I came here,
I didn't feel out of place."
A sense of place: this is what Rincon Criollo seems to
provide the 50 men or so who might drop in on any given day
to work the gardens or sit on the wooden porch to catch the
sun. The house, with its paneled shutters and open yard,
reflects the architecture of the shanties that once dotted
Puerto Rico's mountainsides and coasts.
Inside, there might be artisans constructing panderetas, or
Puerto Rican tambourines. Outside, others might be roasting
suckling pigs and drinking slugs of native moonshine.
Rincon Criollo is more than a place to relax with friends.
It is half hangout, half cultural center, and has long
served as the city's unofficial center for the bomba and
the plena - Puerto Rico's traditional percussive music
Under a plan proposed by Ms. Garcia, the casita would be
moved to a new plot across Brook Avenue, a block away.
While the men who use Rincon Criollo say they sympathize
the need for housing, they say it is hard to move a
"What do we do with the apple tree?" Mr. Ramos asked. "It's
been there 30 years. Songs and poems have been written
about that tree."
He and the others at Rincon Criollo have placed their faith
in a city statute that requires, before development, a
case-by-case review of all gardens on city land, especially
ones that can be said to anchor their communities. They
have also looked for help toward a lawsuit that was filed
in 1999 by Eliot Spitzer, the state attorney general, and
settled last year. The suit, which blocked the sale or
destruction of hundreds of the city's community gardens,
argued that gardens in existence for 20 or 30 years
deserved the same protection as the city's public parks.
Mr. Soto, the founder of Rincon Criollo, said that if any
garden merited protection it was his. After all, he said,
before he built the place, the lot it sat on was a junkyard
filled with busted bicycles, rusted cars
en of dubious
Plans to demolish the garden, however, have been approved
by city housing agencies, the local community board, the
Bronx borough president's office and the City Planning
Commission. Construction is scheduled to start next year.
"We are confident that you will agree with other
representatives of the community that the creation of new
residential and commercial space will benefit all of the
families in the Melrose neighborhood," Carol Abrams, a
spokeswoman for the Department of Housing Preservation and
Development, said in a written statement.
Jose Rivera said something different as he stood beneath
the grape vines a few weeks ago.
"This place is going to be knocked down," he said. "Next
year? Probably not. In two years . . . "
Now he could only shrug.