As I walk out my door trying to think of what NYC neighborhood I should visit to complete this assignment I find my self at a lose. I have lived in New York my entire life and have visited most neighborhoods. Should I go to the Bronx where I have spent much time doing community service for the New York foster care system, Brooklyn where it seems all my friends have moved, Queens, lower Manhattan, the West Side or any other corner of the city. I don’t know. As I sit on a stoop a few blocks away from where I have spent most of my life I start to look around at the neighborhood where I grew up, the Upper East Side in a new light.

I look up and watch the doormen dressed in a variety of uniforms opening and closing building doors, and people walk past them almost through them like they don’t exist. They walk back and forth from door to cab or town car opening doors and returning to the building as if they were part of a cuckoo clock. The season start to change before my eyes and the sidewalks are covered with leaves the leaves turn to snow and everything but nothing changes. Park Avenue gets its Christmas time decorations and lights up with a flick of a switch. You can hear the train rumbling towards Grand Central Station filled with morning commuters and again taking them home at night. 86^th street like the Time Square of the Upper East Side is always crowded with people. On different corners scaffolding goes up and comes down just to go up again somewhere else. An elderly woman walks by with her husband and her hair died bright blue. A jogger runs past like all the joggers either go to or from the park or the river but this man is running in woman lingerie. As I sit and wonder what neighborhood I should write about I realize there is no place but here. This is my home. This is me.