A Member Perspective: Jersey City, My Forever Love Story.
Written by: Stefany Ovalles, Esq.
My family is originally from the Dominican Republic. When our country’s dictator was assassinated in 1961, the Dominican Republic saw an ease of travel restrictions as well as political unrest and high rates of unemployment. This led people, like my grandfather, to leave everything behind in search of a better life for himself and his family.
When he arrived, he lived in Bergen Lafayette and worked in Downtown Hardware on Newark Ave. He worked hard, saved up and hustled to eventually become a US citizen and petitioned for my mother and my aunt to come to this country and follow in his footsteps. At one and a half years old in October of 1990, I entered the US with my mother and even learned to walk in Newark Airport. Soon after, my love affair with Jersey City began. My family moved around a bit over the years - from Coles Street to 3rd Street to 4th Street back to 3rd street before landing on 5th Street. It was a never ending game of let’s-see-how-many-apartments-we-can-occupy-in-a-3-block-radius.
(see more about Downtown Jersey City)
This city became the place where I had all of my firsts. My first scar was in a basketball court in Downtown. My first fight was in the lunchroom of PS #5 school after another student kept taunting me telling me I swam to the US and I had to make sure she understood I came on a plane. My first kiss was on a stoop. My favorite summer memories were playing Manhunt on 5th Street or hanging out on my fire escape on 4th Street while watching the fireworks over the Hudson River (back when a view from 4th Street to New York was a thing). My first date was in Newport Mall and ended with a walk to the waterfront and some greasy fries from the Chicken spot on Newark Ave (if you know you know).
This city also holds some of my most traumatic moments. I experienced my first earth shattering heartbreak here. On 9/11, I saw the plane go into the second Twin Tower from my social studies window in the 7th grade. I still remember the smell of ash and the sounds of sirens as my grandfather took me to Las Americas Restaurant on Grove Street for Dominican comfort food while the world seemed to be falling apart around us. I even learned of the death of my grandfather and then father while living here.
In high school, Jersey City and I even struggled with an identity crisis together around the same time, each remaining quietly in juxtaposition. In Jersey City’s case, a tale of old and new. In my case, stylistically choosing whether I was going to be ghetto fabulous or emo or both.
When I left Jersey City to attend college at Rutgers - New Brunswick and came back, I saw that Jersey City had evolved with me. Although the demographics of my community changed and gentrification carries its own tolls, Jersey City anticipated my needs when I needed a good speakeasy spot to get a cocktail after a long day, gave me multiple coffee shops to cozy up and read a book, and simultaneously continues to allow me to stay connected to my grandfather by frequenting his old watering holes like The Keyhole even after his passing.
This concrete jungle has been there through all of my phases. It has determined my taste in music and style. It has been my longest love affair as we share a lifelong connection of being built on resilience and overcoming adversity. I appreciate its beauty, its grit and its ability to take me as I am without any judgment. It has accepted all phases of my evolution and continues to take me in its arms, welcoming me back home no matter how long or far I stray.
Written by: Stefany Ovalles, Esq.