Sunday, April 9, 2017

paterson

Who among us has not moved at least once
Settling into a new neighborhood
Meeting strangers who live next to us
Expecting or hoping to be able to live and let live.

All of us who move are immigrants free to travel
Unless we have an accent that gives us away
Unless our clothes display our difference
Though all people of color are suspect around here.

If you follow Goffle Brook a short distance to Hawthorne
Downstream from where I am living now
Going to walk the two miles on the streamside path
You will meet a friendly diverse group of people.

Past the park the brook flows into the Passaic River
Across from Paterson a mile below the Great Falls
Where water powered mill buildings remain today
Holding such a momentous history of immigrant workers.

A hundred years ago all the languages of Europe were in the air
When the 1913 Paterson silk strikers for the 8 hour day and improved conditions
Heard speeches translated on the fly to the assembled workers
Led by the International Workers of the World.

A century later the mills are silent but one thing has not changed
The city hosts another influx of immigrants struggling to survive
Only now on these worn streets you hear Spanish and Arabic
Fearful the authorities will make trouble for unwelcome newcomers.

I talk to them about their lives when I go to Paterson to teach English
Volunteering to help women with children to learn to get by
Walking Mill Street and Market and Main to the classroom building
Passing the old brick and the newer bodegas.

A city bus driver in Paterson would know these people the riders
Some getting on and off at the same time and place each day
Much like I came to know most everyone on my delivery route
When I drove a UPS truck on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

In the movie of the same name the driver goes to sit by the Great Falls
Writing private poems that echo other Paterson poets
Especially William Carlos Williams but not so much Allen Ginsburg
Expressing his thoughts and feelings to himself alone.

I can relate to that but that is not me
And it is not real when no passengers have accents
Just the caricature bus dispatcher at the terminal
And no one wears a burqa on his bus 9306.

I like seeing the familiar background street scenes
Because for me the city plays the starring role in the movie
But only if you know the history of the place
And know who lives there now.

I see a glimpse of Garret Mountain as the bus turns a corner
And my thoughts go to the park up there overlooking the river
To the avian migrants dropping down to stop over each spring
Needing to rest and eat before flying across to High Mountain.

The birds are welcome travelers attracting crowds of bird watchers
Enjoying the arrival of so many different species gathered in one place.
If only the people living down below were so valued
The Great Falls would be in the Great City celebrating humanity.