Author Archives: Syndicated User

Down These Mean Streets: “You can’t make yesterday come back today.”

The last half of Down These Mean Streets tackled the prevalent division in society mainly concerned with race. These conflicts result in stereotypes, discrimination, brawls, and identity crises. Though there were numerous key ideas in Thomas’s memoir, I want to analyze the attitudes of racial identity and societal disturbance regarding 3 important characters; Brew, Gerald Andrew West, and Piri. Those these individuals have profound conversations with one another, they each hold differing views on belonging in a segregated society.

The first (and probably most vocal) character that has strong beliefs about discrimination and maltreatment is Brew, who believes that “if you white, tha’s all right. If you black, da’s dat,” revealing that he views society as a hierarchical institution that sticks African-Americans at the bottom. Though his beliefs aren’t far from the truth of the world depicted in the book, he is cynical about someone being anything more than the colour of their skin. As he informs Piri repeatedly that “his skin makes him a member of the black man’s race,” this displays that Brew does not believe one’s heritage, culture, or ethnicity matters as the “paddies” and society as a whole treat others based on what they shade of skin they see. Despite understanding the plight that African-Americans must endure, Brew is “proud of being a Negro.” There are expressions and strategies that Brew remembers from his childhood in Mobile that have stuck with him, protecting himself from the systemic oppression of White over Black. Though Brew has these pessimistic and almost hopeless ideas of how society operates, it’s obvious that life in Mobile has shaped those beliefs profoundly. As we see in Brew’s home town, where Piri tries to order at a restaurant and is ignored and almost beaten by white patrons. This snippet of life in Mobile essentially forces any coloured person living there, just like Brew, to view society as oppressive, unjust, and discriminatory in order to not only find a place where one belongs but in order to survive as well.

The Brew’s negative thoughts reveal themselves when he meets Gerald Andrew West, a mixed-race Pennsylvanian that wants to write a book about “the warmth and harmony of the southern Negro.” Mr. West has black and Spanish ancestry, but the majority of his bloodline has come from White-European backgrounds. As he and Brew talk, he says how he “feels white… looks white… thinks white; therefore [is] white,” but wants to connect with his black and Spanish roots. Trying to connect to his black heritage, he has traveled to Norfolk to enjoy the company of other African-Americans, while connecting to his Spanish side takes the form of studying the Spanish language. Mr. West represents a man who struggles to find his own identity, as it would be simple for him to accept his whiteness but strives to find his true self. Gerald leaves the bar saying to Brew that he will write his book through both black and white lenses to do justice to the black community and bridge the divide between clashing racial groups. Though he is misunderstood by Brew, he continues on the path to find his identity, something that Piri Thomas has struggled with for most of his life.

In the beginning of the book, Piri has unfortunate experiences with racial divides whether it be fighting Italians on the street or being rejected by a white girl at a highschool dance. Brew comes along and proceeds to confuse an already struggling individual by saying he is no more than the colour of his skin; black. However, the progression of Thomas is truly inspiring as his time in prison changes his outlook on the division in society. After being sentenced for 5-15 years at Sing Sing, Piri continues to play it “cara palo”, showing no real emotion to anyone other than to friendly Hispanic and Latino convicts. Soon he is transferred to Comstock, where he begins to comprehend the pecking order of prisons; “At the top are con men… Just beneath them are disbarred lawyers and abortionists… In the middle are the heist men. Thieves and burglers rank just below them. And at the bottom are rapists, faggots, crooked cops, and junkies.” This recognition of the prison pecking order is the start of Piri changing his mentality of social division for the sole reason that the pecking order did not include race. In prison, it didn’t matter what someone’s skin colour was, at least not as much as the outside world. A continuation of Piri’s mental transformation continues as he displays good behaviour practically throughout the entire duration of his sentence. Occasional fights spring up, but never to harm anyone; only to show “heart.” In prison, Piri also admires a friendly white cop, Casey, showing that he drops even more barriers and begins to see the good in some police officers. Finally, the last change Piri experiences is learning about Islam. Though he doesn’t keep with the religion after his sentence, the religion teaches him about community, belonging, faith, and the power of an individual’s actions. Through his lengthy time in prison, Piri develops new beliefs and practices that, when he is freed from prison, give him the tools to tear down discriminatory barriers and create a meaningful life for himself rather than living an unhealthy and addictive lifestyle in the “Mean Streets” of the Spanish Harlem.

-Curtis HR

Down These Mean Streets (Part 2)

Overall, I really enjoyed this book!  The last chapter in particular stood out to me: “I Swears to God and the Virgin” (327).  This chapter begins with Piri going to visit his old building number 109; he says he “always looked at her like an old novia” (327).  I thought this was a super interesting comparison; his relationship with his home/his neighbourhood/his community is just as important as the relationships he has with individuals.  At the end of the last page of the previous chapter, Piri states his thoughts: “what a blank that was.  I should have known, nothing is run the same, nothing stays the same.  You can’t make yesterday come back today.” (326).  Interestingly, on the next page (the start of the very last chapter), when Piri visits his old building, he says: “the mood was the same” (327).  He describes the dark hallways, the dirty marble steps, and he even prepares himself to watch out for the “piles of dog’s mess” (327) or anybody’s “piss water” (327).  For Piri, clearly some things DO stay the same; and in a way, when he visits this old building, he is indeed making “yesterday come back today” (326).  What is it that allows some things to stay the same?  To me, it clearly has to do with memories.  In the very last few pages of the book, Piri is conversing with Carlito (as Carlito is shooting up) and Piri tells him that he is clean.  To me, this claim of being clean has a close connection to what Piri says in the prologue.  For example, in the prologue Piri states: “I’m here and I want recognition” (ix).  Piri believes he is very much worthy of being recognized for navigating himself through the mean streets, and pulling himself out of deep holes (like drug use) that many of his old friends are still stuck in.  On the topic of recognition, in the last chapter Piri greets panín and describes the way in which panín greeted him: “the eyes blinked, straining for some kind of recognition, and then knowing set in …” (327).  Here, like in the prologue, we see the word “recognition”; which I consider to be one of the major themes in this book.  Piri and others are always interacting in ways that involve the recognition of identities; and like we discussed last class, recognizing something/someone involves an aspect of acceptance.  Acceptance, of course, is also a major theme; from the acceptance of identities, to the acceptance of social class and living situation (for example, Piri’s mother accepting that they live in the United States, and not in her beloved, warm Puerto Rico).

Down these mean streets II: Important decisions to be taken

In this second part of the book, one can evidence again the difficulties Piri has to face while he is growing up and becoming an adult. The more he experiences the world, the more he finds key encounters that bring him to terrible circumstances in the future. In these “encounters”, Piri finds himself with difficult decisions he must take. For instance, when Piri is so focused on finding his identity and discovering if he is a real negro, he had to choose between going with Brew to the South, or staying at home with momma, poppa and his siblings. Needed is to say that if he would have stayed at home, he could have avoided all the arguments and fights he had with poppa and his brother Jose. Yet, Piri chose going with Brew to the South in order to discover his blackness. This decision is life changing for Piri, after all the trips he did, he sadly discovers that it does not mind the language you speak, or what your ethnicity might be, the only thing that counts is the color of your skin (your blackness).

Another important decision he had to take was when he was so immersed in the world of drugs, that he had to choose between getting detoxifying with the help of Wanuko, or actually continue ruining his life with H. Piri confessed that it is better to die than going through that horrible process of quitting from drugs. However, at the end, he decided to take a very painful decision, but one he knew will be more beneficial for him. Similarly, once Piri gets to know these two criminals, he gets face to face with the decision to accepting joining them, and together with Louie, commit various robberies in New York. The decision he took affected his future in many respects – he is imprisoned for this crime. When Piri is in jail,  he is once again presented with changeling encounters that need to be addressed by taking a decision. He must fight for obtaining his parole, and in order to do so, he must wisely decide which path to follow.

Lastly,  when Piri goes out from prison, he is again faced with the difficult decision of avoiding the same mistakes (or erroneous decisions) he made in the past. Fortunately this time,  even though he slips into his old habits; Piri is able to resist the temptations of drugs and crime through prayer and through seeing one of his old friends in the throes of a destructive heroin addiction.

Pamela Chavez

Week 7—Down These Mean Streets (part ii)

I found myself wide awake at 2:30 this morning after 3 short hours of sleep. They don’t make infomercials like they used to, so I decided to read the final 40 or so pages of DTMS. I had been savouring them, not wanting the story to end.

There are so many things I find significant in this book. So many things that I’ve experienced in my life that parallel what Piri Thomas shares with his readers, yet the life he lived and the one I’ve lived thus far are completely different—or are they? From the Prologue to the final chapter, Thomas spills out his inner most thoughts: his yearning to belong in society; his quest for his identity, a relationship with Poppa; the loss of everything he knew due to a bad decision—the loss of 7 years of his life, the loss of Moms, Brew, Trina and probably countless others who didn’t make the pages of this book.

All of my anticipation of reaching the end of the book came to a head at the bottom of page 314, after he has been released from Comstock State Prison and is back in jail waiting to face his further charges. Thomas recalls, “I studied my new home. It was three parts concrete, one part steel bars—yellow bars, or were they buff? I chuckled. Green, yellow, buff—they were still bars underneath. I looked up and around and I saw that I wasn’t alone.” The notions of home, colours and layers of facades plays such an integral part in his story, in his life…in our lives. Home is such an important idea that he sections portions of the book off according to the geographic area he hung his hat at the time things were happening. Whether he was at home with his familia, couch surfing with strangers or incarcerated, home was where he slept. In fact he titled the book after the streets where he felt at home, and called them mean. I find this really interesting having lived on the streets myself. Sure, they were mean—the people who had homes were mean, but the homeless community of which I was a part was anything but mean. We looked out for each other, just as Thomas’ pals did for him.

Colour was a catalyst for so much of Thomas’ mental anguish. Within his family, it was never an issue. As a young child, living in El Barrio, it was never an issue. It was more important that one had heart, never mind the colour of their skin. And while it never dawned on him that he wasn’t white, Moms always called him ‘negrito’. Granted, I’ve been told by many of my Spanish profs that this is a term of endearment, but still. And in the end, skin colour is just an external layer, much like the layers on the steel bars of his jail cell. Whether they were buff or yellow—is that really the point?

I am sorry to end this book. I want to find out how Thomas went from this to the next phases of his life. I will have to search for his subsequent books and writings.

For my song this week, I’ve chosen one of the most poignant songs of my youth—“Gangster’s Paradise” by Coolio. It was released about a year after I had been on the streets of Toronto, ‘shelter hoping’. The racial diversity was omnipresent in the shelters and I found my closest allies/ friends were Jamaican. Anyway, this song played on their ghetto blasters nonstop at the time. It became almost an anthem for me. The song’s opening words about sum it up for me: “As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death | I take a look at my life and realize there’s not much left”. Just like Piri Thomas, I reflect back on the stuff I’ve seen, the stuff I’ve done…stuff I’m proud of and stuff I’m not so proud of. I am where I am today because of it all. I’ve still got lessons to learn in life. Books like DTMS help me dig deeper at those events, providing me with new lessons and ways to look at things in preparation for the tomorrows.

Down These Mean Streets II

thomas_mean-streets2The second half of Piri Thomas’s Down These Mean Streets is much less preoccupied with questions of identity than the first. It seems as though Thomas has accepted that his primary identity is the one bestowed on him by society, rather than family: he is black, even if he can occasionally “pass” as something else, as when (in Texas) he goes to a brothel with a Mexican friend and, by acting as though he only speaks Spanish, assures the establishment that he is foreign rather than African American. As he leaves, though, he switches to English and watches as the prostitute’s “smile fall[s] off and a look of horror fill[s] the empty space it left–‘I just want you to know,’” he tells her, “’that you got fucked by a nigger, by a black man!’” (189). If he is going to be penalized for his blackness, in other words, by this point he sees that it can also be wielded as a weapon.

Towards the end of the book, in an odd and somewhat underdeveloped passage, Thomas even seems to be taken by Black Nationalism: under the influence of a follower of Elijah Muhammed, he becomes a Muslim and takes on the name “Hussein Afmit Ben Hassen” (296). Neither the religion nor the name stick (for reasons that Thomas does not explain), but it is notable that he has little corresponding interest, even momentarily, in his Puerto Rican heritage or latinidad. Indeed, though he signs on to work on a ship that travels to the West Indies, it is not clear that he visits the island, or even that the thought to do so ever crosses his mind. “Puerto Rican” becomes simply a qualifier, albeit a necessary one, to “black”: when a plainclothes detective grabs him and calls him a “black bastard,” Thomas replies “If you don’t mind, I’m a Puerto Rican black bastard” (235). His blackness is no longer contested.

But the book’s fundamental concern continues to be the self. In some ways, this is unsurprising given the generic conventions of the memoir, whose point is largely to narrate the unfolding or discovery of what makes an individual what he or she is. But Piri is more concerned with “me” than most. Thomas tells us that “one thing still stood out clear; one things still made sense and counted–me. Nothing else but me” (95). And asked for “who do you love?” he seems hardly to hesitate before answering “Me” (259). He has many associates but relatively few friends; relationships become significant only when they are at an end, as with his friend Brew (who disappears), his mother (who dies), or his girlfriend Trina (who marries another man).

Ultimately Piri is not particularly interested in other people. Nor is he all that concerned with a broader notion of community or “people.” Sent to prison for robbery with violence, there is a point, when the inmates rise up against the guards, at which Thomas has to decide on his allegiances and belonging, and ends up split, arguing with his self: “These damn cons are my people . . . What do you mean, your people? Your people are outside the cells, home, in the streets” (281). In the end, though, it is more that he has no people.

Rejected for the most part by mainstream society, with the exception of the anomalous episode of Muslim conversion he is unable or unwilling to find any alternative sense of community. The book’s final scene is emblematic. Returning to Harlem and to the building he once lived in, he meets an old friend, Carlito, who at first does not recognize him. It turns out that Carlito is, like Piri had once been, a junkie. Hearing his mumbled but unconvincing promises that he will get clean, Thomas realizes that all this is simply part of his past, of his numerous yesterdays: “my whole world was yesterday. I ain’t got nothing but today and a whole lot of tomorrows” (330). Ignoring what Carlito is saying, Piri leaves him behind and “walked out into the street, past hurrying people and an unseen jukebox beating out a sad-assed bolero” (331). Any salvation here is going to be individual rather than collective. There is little if any sense of any common political project.

Even when Thomas bumps into a boy who reminds him uncannily of himself, or of his former self–“This kid shot a cop and got shot; I shot a cop and got shot. What’s happened to me is going to happen to him” (315)–he is hardly keen to communicate his own experience and learning, fobbing him off rather with a “Buenas noches” and the unconvincing and unlikely reassurance that “You’ll probably get a break, don’t worry about it” (315). Taken as a whole, however, the book gives the lie to this superficial prognosis. Piri himself catches very few breaks. And if he survives to tell the tale, it is hardly thanks to anyone else but to the fact that he has shown, over and over, that whatever the colour of his skin he has “heart.” And it is heart, a mixture of bravery and persistence, capacity to affect or be affected, that is untethered from any notion of identity or belonging, that is finally what counts. This is what leads to acceptance on the street, where “if you you ain’t got heart, you ain’t got nada” (47). You make your own luck, and you do so as an individual (because heart is what defines the individual), not as part of a group.

Down These Mean Streets (Part 1)

I have really enjoyed this book so far. As I was reading the first part I found myself very attentive in learning more about Piri’s life with every page that passed. Two aspects of the book that stuck out for me were Piri’s sense of wanting to belong and the mother’s longing for Puerto Rico, the place that she is able to identify with the most.

A quote which resonated with me in the book was one where the mother remembers the people in Puerto Rico and her life over there. She says, “I like los Estados Unidos, but it’s sometimes a cold place to live-not because of the winter and the landlord not giving heat but because of the snow in the hearts of the people”. I feel that this is something that many immigrants can understand and often find themselves trying to become accustomed to in their new country and community. For many of these immigrants such as described by Piri’s mother, it is difficult to become used to a society that is cold, individualistic and has not much depth to it whatsoever. In places like Puerto Rico, and I would say the majority of Latin American countries, the feelings of warmth and camaraderie with each other are very much prevalent. Even if you find yourself in an unfavourable economic situation you still are able to find the good in life, that warmth in your heart that brings you joy. Though many live in difficult life circumstances they are still living life joyfully and are satisfied with life itself. Moving from one of these countries to a place like New York where one can probably find more advantages in growing, economic stability and success is a complete cultural and societal change. These Latin American societies have a general idea of maintaining close interpersonal relationships, enjoyment of life and having warm and close relationships with your friends, family and those who live in your community. For people moving away from these kinds of societies such as Piri’s mom it is tough to become used to how the people in their new country live such solitary and individualistic lives.

I look forward in continuing this book and reading about Piri’s life and the difficulty of looking for his belonging and approval within society. I believe that many can relate to this story of a boy trying to find who he is and with this constantly experiencing racism, prejudice and violence.

Down These Mean Streets (Part 1)

I have really enjoyed this book so far. As I was reading the first part I found myself very attentive in learning more about Piri’s life with every page that passed. Two aspects of the book that stuck out for me were Piri’s sense of wanting to belong and the mother’s longing for Puerto Rico, the place that she is able to identify with the most.

A quote which resonated with me in the book was one where the mother remembers the people in Puerto Rico and her life over there. She says, “I like los Estados Unidos, but it’s sometimes a cold place to live-not because of the winter and the landlord not giving heat but because of the snow in the hearts of the people”. I feel that this is something that many immigrants can understand and often find themselves trying to become accustomed to in their new country and community. For many of these immigrants such as described by Piri’s mother, it is difficult to become used to a society that is cold, individualistic and has not much depth to it whatsoever. In places like Puerto Rico, and I would say the majority of Latin American countries, the feelings of warmth and camaraderie with each other are very much prevalent. Even if you find yourself in an unfavourable economic situation you still are able to find the good in life, that warmth in your heart that brings you joy. Though many live in difficult life circumstances they are still living life joyfully and are satisfied with life itself. Moving from one of these countries to a place like New York where one can probably find more advantages in growing, economic stability and success is a complete cultural and societal change. These Latin American societies have a general idea of maintaining close interpersonal relationships, enjoyment of life and having warm and close relationships with your friends, family and those who live in your community. For people moving away from these kinds of societies such as Piri’s mom it is tough to become used to how the people in their new country live such solitary and individualistic lives.

I look forward in continuing this book and reading about Piri’s life and the difficulty of looking for his belonging and approval within society. I believe that many can relate to this story of a boy trying to find who he is and with this constantly experiencing racism, prejudice and violence.

Down These Means Streets: Identity and belonging

In the first part of this post, I would like to share my impression as a reader. In fact, when I read this book, I had an ambivalent feeling. First of all, the immediacy of the text allows the reader to be totally involved in the story of the young Piri as he grows up in a hostile environment in Harlem. Indeed, the unfiltered and natural writing as well as the events that captivate by their intensity are elements that contribute to the authenticity of this text which is its main strength. On the other hand, even though this story is captivating, I personally found the book sincerely difficult to read because of the urban language that is used throughout the story. As a non-English speaking reader, several times I had to reread entire sections of the chapter because I found it difficult to properly understand the story, a feeling I had not had in previous readings.

It is now time to discuss a theme that I found central, namely the importance of ethnicity and the sense of belonging. Piri Thomas tells us his story from childhood, which is very relevant because it is during this period of primary socialization that identity is forged. For Piri, however, this construction of identity is in fact a quest to define which community he belongs. As a child, Piri rejects the essentialism of categories, as the oppositions white/black, Spanish/English, American/Porto-Rican overlap and intertwine. Thus, belonging is defined both in terms of identification to a national community (American vs. Italian), to an ethnic community (Puerto Rican), a racial conception linked to skin colour. The difficulty for Piri to define his own identity is raised by this short exchange between a young man of Italian origin and Piri in chapter 4 :

Hey, you,” he said. “What nationality are ya?” I looked at him and wondered which nationality to pick. And one of his friends said, “Ah, Rocky, he’s black enuff to be a nigger. Ain’t that what you is, kid?” My voice was almost shy in its anger. “I’m Puerto Rican,” I said. “I was born here.”

Here, Piri struggles to define himself. Technically, he is American because he was born in New York. But at the same time, he affirms his pride in being Puerto Rican in front of people of Italian origin, revealing here how important ethnic and national divisions were and still are in the urban organization of New York City. Another thing that is really interesting in this section is the fact that Piri affirms his belonging to the Puerto Rican community to defend himself against an accusation of “blackness”. Piri insists throughout the first part of the book that he is not African-American by asserting his Puerto Rican blood. Through this acceptance of one identity and the parallel rejection of another, Piri reveals the importance of racial hierarchy in American society.

Down These Mean Streets (Part 1)

As I have mentioned before, I am not a big fan of reading. It still took me quite some time to read the novel but this is by far the easiest one to read out of all the ones that we have to read for the class. This novel hit close to home in so many different levels. I almost started crying as I read the first few pages of the book. I can recall so many experiences, not just mine, but also of people that I have encountered along the way, most especially those that I met when I lived in the Dominican Republic and when I went to El Salvador.

This story reminds me of a friend that I met in El Salvador. He was one of the interpreters that helped us when we were down there. When I was reading about Piri having a hard time at home and not getting along with the other kids, I see in my head what was going on and I can’t imagine myself going through something similar. Then I suddenly thought of Gabriel. He’s the first person that I’ve met who’s all tattooed up looking all macho but he cries so easily when he hears stories and testimonies of people. I remember a particular moment when I joked about him not looking like a Salvadorian but rather a Mexican and he got mad at me for doing so. Later on, he told me about his story. I found out that he was imprisoned in the States and that he was in jail for 20 years, after being released, he was deported back to El Salvador.

Gabriel told me that he hates being mistaken for a Mexican because he was locked up with Mexicans in the States. Even though he is Salvadorian by blood and he can speak Spanish because of his parents, he started sounding like a Mexican because he was surrounded by them. He told me that when he arrived in El Salvador, he couldn’t understand the accent and slang that the people had. He felt like a stranger to that country. He didn’t know where he belonged.

I believe belonging is somewhat a central theme in “Down These Mean Streets”. Piri struggles a lot with what other people think of him. When Piri says “my own is what I want. Nothing more”, he was having a “Gabriel moment.” He would be okay with how he looked if he wasn’t mistreated solely because of it. His appearance is a hindrance to his belonging, even in his own home. He is struggling with his own identity.

Down These Mean Streets I: A life in seek of recognition

This book has been the one I most enjoyed until now. Piri Thomas` memoir is deep and catchy. His live, far from being simple, is interesting and challenging to read. His childhood is full of hard experiences, that he faces with all the happiness and adventurous attitude he could have. Piri is always looking for recognition. For instance, he is continually seeking that through his dad’s approval (he wants his dad to recognize him as a grown man). Moreover, he wants his young fellows in the Spanish Harlem to respect and accept him in the group. He hates all the times he has to move out to another neighborhood because those transitions mean for him a disconnection for the ‘approval’ he has achieved on the Spanish Harlem. The fact of being a new boy on the Italian part of the neighborhood caused him to go to the hospital and almost get blind. However, Italians were not the only one who rejected him; once his family got a better social mobility and moved on to a nicer neighborhood, he also found rejection by white people in the high school he was at.

I think the fact that Piri was so focused on gaining approval by the rest of people was because he was not even sure of who he was. His world was constructed around El Barrio (the Spanish Harlem), and his identity was mixed with English and Spanish; Puerto Rico and New York; El Barrio and the rest of the city, etc. The only comfortable and secure place for Piri was El Barrio, and that’s why he comes back to this place even if he does not have where to live in, or what to eat. Piri’s rejection of staying at the new neighborhood with his mom and siblings is rooted in the issue that he is trying desperately to find his roots, his place of comfort, his home, the place where he can feel he belongs to; and that’s El Barrio for him. El Barrio has granted Piri the recognition and the belonging he needed so much.

Down these mean streets highlights important social issues by looking into the life of a real person, who is letting us know about the difficulty of poverty, race discrimination, dislocation, welfare dependence, homosexuality, love, unequal education, drug dependency, and a lot more in his own life. Yet, the thing I found most interesting and complex is the fact that even though Piri suffered from all these social issues at the Spanish Harlem, when he has the opportunity to leave all these behind; he still chooses to stay. He decides to stay in a place where the majority of people would prefer not to be…. why?