I first moved to the Bushwick/Bed-Stuy border in 2009 with two other ladies, recent college grads. One of my roommates was a freelancer, one was in grad school, and I had a temporary administrative job. We couldn’t have known it then, but as young grads we were contributing to a widespread shift in the neighborhood. All we knew at the time was that we had severely limited funds and happened upon an almost-3-bedroom treasure – near a subway stop in Bushwick – on Craigslist for $1450. We named it Chateau Bushwick.

Of course, our corner of Bushwick was a little different that summer than it is now. Apart from a few Chinese take-out places with bulletproof glass and the requisite bodegas, it was solely residential. Little by little, the neighborhood pulled us in, adopted us. We didn’t know anyone else who lived in Bushwick at the time, so we were completely unaware of the burgeoning “scene” tiptoeing in from the Northwest. We didn’t know of any galleries, or fancy restaurants, coffee shops, or bars. (Unless you counted the strip club two doors down from our apartment – but they charged $7 for a bottle of Corona, so no. Just no. We’ll take our beers canned and in a six-pack, please.)

We discovered that we had everything we needed within three blocks – an apartment with personality, communicative landlords, a huge grocery store, a cheap liquor store, 24/7 bodegas, and friendly conversation with the people we met. Our Bushwick was a village on a remote island that I was relieved to return to after work every day. Chateau Bushwick was where I became an adult and settled down.