I haven’t talked about my first months in New York for a long time. It’s funny when you remember places and events, and what it makes you feel right in the top of your belly. We used to live and work at an old building on 14^th street and 8^th avenue. Everyone living in the building had come to NY after graduation as volunteers to develop community projects; I was producing documentaries for public television. For all our hard work we received school credit and a $50 monthly stipend. It’s funny to think how we managed to build our way up in New York in such a small budget. I still can recall the squeaky sound of the wooden floors, the waterless sinks in every bedroom, the shared shower and how scary it was to touch its walls with bare skin, the cat living on the shelves of the kitchen, the pit-bull sleeping on the hallways, the rats on the basement and the homeless guys smoking crack on the roof. It was New York and we expected it to be tough. I miss the excitement of being new to the city, and the countless opportunities it might bring.