If you were walking down Radio Row in Tribeca in 1921, you would pass junk shops and windows displaying used radio parts. It was an industrial neighborhood, run-down and dirty.
Forty-four years later, the view was similar. But in 1966, the entire area was demolished to clear ground for the construction of the World Trade Center. Tribeca was changing—and still is.
Today, in the immediate vicinity around Stuy, you can find four Starbucks, three Banks of America and many fast food chains. A new complex on Greenwich Street, two blocks from Stuy, recently opened. Behind all the sparkling brick-and-glass is a Barnes and Noble, yet another Starbucks, a Bed Bath and Beyond and a Whole Foods.
As more chain stores sprout up in Tribeca, they are taking more real estate—and business—away from local businesses.
The local bookstore, Manhattan Books, will almost certainly lose customers, unable to compete with the much wider selection at Barnes and Noble. Students will frequent their old lunch haunts less often in favor of Whole Foods, which promises new variety.
Local pizzeria Portobello’s is perhaps one of the few businesses that benefits from the new national chain stores. “[The chain stores] bring employees, and employees have to eat,” owner Anthony Catanzaro said.
Some of them have already brought him business—even before they opened. They have designated Portobello’s their “official pizzeria” for their pizza business lunches.
Anthony claims he’s not worried about losing customers to Whole Foods, either. He’s sure Stuyvesant students will remain loyal to him. He knows the names of most of his regular Stuy customers, devotes a wall to Stuy regalia and lets the Board Game Club meet there—even when they don’t buy anything.
The sight of my friends and I, a group of 10 loud teenagers, would have made most shop owners groan, but Anthony and the other Portobello’s employees didn’t mind that we blocked the entranceway, spent forever deciding our order, took up three tables and stayed for hours.
Anthony said he, like most small business owners, loves “to pay attention to service,” but big chain stores often don’t. The attention would be well-missed.
When my friend went to Pan Latin for lunch but forgot her money—and had no one to borrow from—the cashier told her to pay on her next visit. The store didn’t write it down; it accepted her word in good faith.
Tribeca is joining other Manhattan neighborhoods as it makes room for more national retailers. The new chain stores bring us greater variety at lower prices but they also take away from the welcoming feeling of a neighborhood where shop owners and employees are our friends.
This is what Anthony is worried Tribeca will lose: its sense of community. He’s only been in Tribeca three-and-a-half years but, during that time, he said it’s “losing that neighborhood feel.” He worries about other local business owners who don’t have the same beneficial relationships with the new chains that he does.
As students and consumers, we face a similar dilemma. We may want to support our local businesses and preserve our neighborhood, but sometimes it’s difficult. After a hard school day, when the air outside is icy, I know I can’t resist the draw of Starbucks’s hot, spicy apple cider topped with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel.
Still, we should try. We can’t directly stop the neighborhood we love and that loves us from changing, but we can remain loyal to our local businesses. You can go to Barnes and Noble, but try Manhattan Books first. Of course you should enjoy the wide selection at Whole Foods, but don’t go there every day. We must give back to the community or watch it disappear.