Can you tell me how to get...how to get to Sesame Street?

I'm baaaaaaack in Brooklyn bishessssss!

I just finished an amazing run in Baltimore creating and opening a new musical called Soul:The Stax Musical! At first I felt a tiny tinge of guilt because I have been on the Motown train for so long (3.5yrs to be exact) but that guilt was short-lived. I am an artist and I cannot be tied down and do not BELONG to any show. I am simply the messenger...the vessel to live and tell the story...during the contract. So BOOM.
ANYHOO, Baltimore was the BOMB! I fell in LOVE with my cast and all my cast dreams came true. We were like a family. We understood each, we all hung out and got along--what a concept!  It also didn't help that Kwame, our director, set up the rehearsal process with opening and closing group circles, improv dance party-style warmups, and fostered a sense of togetherness throughout the rehearsal period. There was just so much love and realness in that cast, and as a girl from ChiTown, you know I love keeping it real. Its exhausting to fake the funk and pretend to be excited, traits that I find in musical theatre. I want my joy to be grounded and real AF. Plus my fake smile muscles are getting weaker each year.
I think a lot that had to do with the mix of the cast as well. There were people from NYC, LA, Baltimore and there were non-musical theater singers in the cast as well, who subscribe to a different vibe of work. It may not be as showy but it's honest and expressive, and those are qualities that I dig!
So Baltimore was great! The show was bomb, the audiences were awesome, the cast get togethers and bonfires and house parties were frequent, I was happy as a pig in slop! When the run ended, the heartbreak was real but so were the connections I made, and I knew I would be seeing these mofos again at some point so my grief was short-lived.

While I was in Baltimore, I had no apartment to get back to after the contract. So I searched remotely for an apartment once I returned in 3 months. I found a place in Crown Heights/BedStuy and after seeing pictures online and getting a FaceTime tour, I threw my security deposit to my future roommate, who I was vibing with and secured my new apartment for 3 months minimum.
*DEEEEEEP SIGH*

As the Lyft drives to my new apartment, my stomach drops.
All the super cute cafes and happy brownstone blocks disappear. The architecture changes to paneled homes, uninspired spaces and the repeated business pattern of Nail Salon/Chinese food/Beauty Supply/Dusty Deli. The pace of the people slows and the energy thickens. Men are congregated or mill around and no-one looks like me. My apartment is directly next to an abandoned building...*squints* no, its a new development. So gentrification is near...My heart sinks and then is, dare I say, hopeful.
Gentrification in my mind always meant pushing the Black people out of the community to make way for really nice businesses and homes for white people with more money...more money from systemized racism created from a model to keep people of color inferior economically yet continue to make fortunes OFF of the very people that are being oppressed...or something like that.
 My quest was to find a happy mix of those two factors. A gentrified yet cultural intact community. My last neighborhood was a funny, tense and entertaining balance of those things. There were sparkly new businesses and preserved brownstones that were still Black owned. There were hipsters and homies like water and oil coexisting, like a brew. That is exciting because you have the best of all the worlds.
My surrounding area now...simply put isnt CUTE...and I'm low key/high key pouty about it....No damnit, I'm mad! I was spoiled in Bedstuy and I was paying UNDER a $1000 for a dope Brownstone. Granted, I'm not paying too much more I have less money now and beggars can't be choosers...but I still want my cake and eat it too damnit! Why would you have cake if you're not going to eat it?? OR how do you even eat cake if you don't have it?? *deep breath*

I think the main issue is that the care of the neighborhood could be better. Why would you allow trash to gather outside of your place of residence? I remember seeing my neighbors sweep and collect trash that may have been blown out of the bags. There was a sense of pride in the way they upkeep the block and even how they carried themselves. How they greeted one another with a nod or a smile. Here, I get glares like I did something wrong or my existence is somehow a threat. True, there is no such thing as Sesame Street but DAMNIT there are some blocks that can come pretty damn close!