Editor’s Note

This project, which was meant to serve as an objective deep dive into a rich section of Brooklyn history, feels very raw.

I’m not dissatisfied with the product. Rather, I’ve come to terms with the gritty, unadulterated aspects of telling this story — and perhaps, telling any story in history. I’ve come to personally realize (although I’ve been told this in many other iterations) that history can only be what the narrator wishes it to be. There was no denying that in this project. So, instead of leaning into the altruistic naivete that urges my 19-year-old journalist mind to tell a story without bias, I purposely structured this story as if it were my own.

Partly because it is. Crown Heights is my birthright — my birthplace and the backdrop of almost every notable experience in my life. I could not tell this story without that admission bleeding through the seams of this product.

But it was also partly because, through the creation of this project, I’ve come to realize the urgency of adding your story to ‘his’tory. Stories from the past are passed down through the hearts, minds, and souls of those who care to share them. Although details inevitably become puzzle pieces as fragments of the story fall off, the essence of each inflection point throughout history will always hold meaning across generations, if we let it.

I am more than thankful for the guidance of notable figures in my community. The upkeep of any coexisting space involves leaders who are willing to sacrifice their time and energy. I have nothing but respect and admiration for the students of the past, like author Ed Shapiro, as well as the changemakers of the future, like Rabbi Eli Cohen and Assembly Member Phara Souffrant Forrest.

I’m honored to document my family’s stories — my mom’s and my forefathers’. My grandfather, who I discovered was a talented photographer when I found his old pictures, is a significant part of this legacy.

I published this ‘deep dive’ for you guys (and myself, of course).