The odd, capricious gratitude and anger of Crack Row addicts to picking up litter
The reactions of people on and around the area they call Crack Row—the northwest corner of Washington Square Park—varies and changes.
Earlier today, while doing my sidcha of picking up at least three pieces of litter from that corner, one guy thanked me and said he appreciated when people did nice things like that.
Not long after, one woman from another group of about a half-dozen people got angry at me. They were blocking the path. I waited for them to move so I could pass. This woman called me by the term people nowadays call “the n-word.” She looked black and I’m pretty white, so I thought her word choice odd and her anger misplaced.
I responded not to call me the term. So she promptly called me a cracker. She told me a piece of paper I picked up was hers, that she might have kept her drugs on it.
To clarify, this woman wasn’t insane. I think she was just flaunting her status in that local situation.
I wondered if I would write about the interaction here. It’s such a different culture than mainstream New York. I don’t think people get it who haven’t spent time there. I didn’t look to see if they had any syringes out, but they were obviously using.
Read my weekly newsletter
On initiative, leadership, the environment, and burpees