There is an atrocious occurrence going on throughout Harlem that I have tried to ignore but can no longer. I ignored it as I taught swim lessons to mostly white and Asian children at a local Harlem pool. I ignored it as I witnessed a plethora of Indian and Thai restaurants move into the area around City College. I ignored it when I saw so many coffee shops popping up that I swore I was in Portland, Oregon. I ignored it as I saw fewer and fewer small businesses along 125th Street and other areas in Harlem. But with the opening of not only a Whole Foods but also a Bed Bath & Beyond and a T.J. Maxx on 125th Street, I can ignore it no longer.

GENTRIFICATION is changing the face of Harlem, and I will not be silent about it.

For anyone who doesn't really understand what gentrification is, it is basically a new wave of colonialism.

Wealthier (mainly white) people start to move into an area, which causes the displacement of the lower-income (mainly black or rather non-white) residents. Not only are residents displaced, locally owned, smaller businesses generally leave because they can no longer afford to stay open, and more expensive stores, such as Whole Foods, move into the area. The lower-income residents are now in an even more dire situation because not only can they no longer afford to live in the area, but now they can no longer afford to buy their basic necessities, because believe me, Whole Foods is definitely not the most bargain-friendly place to shop.

So families and people who have most likely lived in Harlem for generations are forced to leave their homes with nowhere else to go. The main reason why the gentrification of Harlem pains me so much, other than the class (and race) war it perpetuates, is because of the fact that the history and culture that was birthed in Harlem is being decimated.

People, land, landmarks, language, and food are just a few of the many entities which house a culture. These things are passed down from generation to generation, run through the blood of a people, and create a sense of oneness and community, especially for people who have gone through a collective struggle like the people of Harlem (and all people of color everywhere). These things are disappearing as the people, the heartbeat and backbone of Harlem, are being kicked out by the wealthier, white people who can afford to purchase $40 ostrich eggs from Whole Foods.

I remember when I first learned about Harlem, New York. I was fascinated by the explosion of black culture that happened during the Harlem Renaissance. I imagined what it would be like watching Duke Ellington perform at the Apollo as jazz music emerged parallel to the literary movement that was the Renaissance. I imagined myself frequenting the Cotton Club. I imagined the joy black people must have felt at that time, thinking that they had finally found a home in the United States where they could be unapologetically black and somewhat free themselves from the shackles of society which bound you based on color mistaken for savagery and criminality.

I was excited to go to college in Harlem, to experience how times have changed since then and how the history and culture were being preserved. I was excited to serve the community of Harlem during both my graduate and postgraduate career. Quite frankly, I was excited to see more people who looked like me. But I didn't expect the changes that I've encountered.

Across the street from the Cotton Club is a Fairway Market. Down the block from the Apollo will be a Whole Foods. Local black-owned business are not as common anymore. The beautiful black faces that strung up from the cement streets of Harlem like sunflowers have been treated like weeds being plucked from the foundation by wealthy, white hands. And every day when I walk around Harlem and witness this gentrification, my heart breaks a little bit more.