The Slope Survey returns for its 26th installment.
Laura Broadwell has viewed the world from five Park Slope apartments in the past 38 years. She also observes life through the lens of a writer, editor, child advocate and content creator. Her essay “Life in Balance” appeared in the collection “Tick Tock: Essays on Becoming a Parent After 40” (Dottir Press, 2021) and her essay “What Would I Wear?” will be published in “Gray Love: Stories About Dating and New Relationships After 60” (Rutgers University Press, 2023). For the Spring 2022 issue of the Park Slope Reader, Laura wrote “Loyalty to Place,” an essay that weighed her views on living in the neighborhood against a future living elsewhere.
What brought you to Park Slope?
I was born in Park Slope in the late 1950s – in Methodist Hospital. I lived with my parents, grandmother and great-aunt in a two-bedroom apartment on 16th Street until I was about 7 months old. After that, our family moved to a house on Long Island, where I grew up.
For years, I rarely stepped foot in Brooklyn, eager to explore other places around the world. But in my late 20s, I moved back to New York and began searching for an apartment in the city. As luck (or fate) would have it, I stumbled onto an apartment in Brooklyn, with a room renting for $200 a month. It was right off Flatbush Avenue, bordering Park Slope. The day I emerged from the subway and looked up at Grand Army Plaza, I was struck with the most auspicious feeling — I was home! That was in 1984, and I’ve been here ever since.
What is your most memorable Park Slope moment?
Park Slope has been part of my life for decades, so of course I have a world of memories. I remember a beautiful spring day in 2000, when my daughter Eleni sat up in her stroller and waved to every single passerby on Third Street. She said “Hi! Hi! Hi!” as if she were campaigning to be mayor of Park Slope.
On September 11, 2001, I recall coming home from Manhattan and seeing burnt paper and ash all over the street. Neighbors, strangers, everyone walked in a daze, all sharing a collective grief. In March 2020, I watched cars pull away at the start of the Covid pandemic, leaving behind an emptiness soon filled by the sounds of ambulances and birds. Later that summer, I heard the very loud calls to justice by Black Lives Matter protestors in the streets — and in the early days of November 2020, I witnessed an entire neighborhood erupt in joy when Joe Biden officially won the election.
Describe your community superpower.
Even though I didn’t grow up in Park Slope, I have deep ancestral ties to the neighborhood. In the 1930s, my paternal grandmother — a Lebanese immigrant — became a young widow and left her home in Mobile, Alabama, with two small children in tow. She, my father and aunt moved to Park Slope to be closer to family. I moved to the neighborhood in my late 20s and eventually raised my daughter here, also as a single parent. After my father died in 2004, my mother came to live in Park Slope, spending her last years in the neighborhood, close to me and Eleni. My mom died in Methodist Hospital, more than 50 years after I was born there. My community superpower is that I can walk down nearly any street in Park Slope, or any part of Prospect Park, and evoke a family memory.
If you could change one thing about the neighborhood, what would it be?
For all of what I love about Park Slope, I’ve seen the character of the neighborhood erode over the decades. There’s more traffic, more congestion, more blandness, more affluence, far less diversity. Real estate prices are prohibitive. People and establishments who have been at the soul of this neighborhood for generations are being driven out for all the wrong reasons. There’s definitely more transience here than ever before. If I could change one thing, I would somehow create beautiful blocks of affordable housing, so that the neighborhood could be a place for everyone — not only the wealthy.
What do you think Park Slope will look like in 10 years?
For the past 38 years, I’ve routinely passed certain brownstones that were built in the 1800s. These buildings are like family to me — steadfast, loyal, stately. In 10 years, I hope that these beautiful homes would still be here, watching over all the changes in the neighborhood. I’m not sure who’ll be living in them or what the vibe of Park Slope will be like then, but I have faith that — visually at least — some sense of history will be retained.
What are you reading? Would you recommend it?
I just picked up a book at the Community Bookstore called “Listen, World! How the Intrepid Elsie Robinson Became America’s Most-Read Woman.” It’s co-written by Allison Gilbert, an author I know, and it’s gotten great reviews. So go pick up a copy!
What is your greatest extravagance?
Living in Park Slope!
If you couldn’t live in Park Slope or Brooklyn, where would you go?
I really love warm weather and the sea, so ideally, I’d live somewhere that has both. My mother was born in Greece and I have relatives there, so I always dream of living on a Greek island…at least for part of the year.
Who is your hero, real or fictional?
My father died in 2004, but I think of him every day. He was the most humble, hardworking, down-to-earth person I’ve ever met. He moved from Mobile, Alabama, to Park Slope when he was six and arrived with a strong Southern accent. The kids in Brooklyn made fun of him — but soon he sounded just like them. When he was 32, my dad relocated our family to Long Island, but he always retained his Brooklyn accent. I loved that about him!
In 2011, my dear friend Michael and his family contributed to a commemorative tree in Prospect Park, planted in honor of my father. It’s a beautiful burgundy belle maple — and it’s grown so much in the past 11 years.
Last word: What is turning you on these days?
The sky. Whenever I get off the subway from Manhattan, I look up at the sky and am so glad to be home. I love the movement, color and shape of the clouds, and the varying intensity of the sun. Looking up at the sky brings me to a place outside of my own thoughts and fixations. It gives me a sense of peace.
