Cate Conmy
Packing Up
When I was 10 and my family was moving to Hong Kong, my mom told my brothers and I that we could all fill two shelves in our bedrooms with whatever we wanted to bring with us from Brooklyn. We each made our own selections: I gathered up my dolls and then guiltily picked who among them would get to come with me. My 5-year-old brother Teddy packed a cast-iron piggy bank shaped like a puppy and a bust of Abraham Lincoln I hadn’t even known he owned; 9-year-old Chris made his own difficult decisions – I think he included a dartboard. Really, we all choose blindly: how could we know what we would miss about home when we’d never left it before?
Packing Up
When I was 10 and my family was moving to Hong Kong, my mom told my brothers and I that we could all fill two shelves in our bedrooms with whatever we wanted to bring with us from Brooklyn. We each made our own selections: I gathered up my dolls and then guiltily picked who among them would get to come with me. My 5-year-old brother Teddy packed a cast-iron piggy bank shaped like a puppy and a bust of Abraham Lincoln I hadn’t even known he owned; 9-year-old Chris made his own difficult decisions – I think he included a dartboard. Really, we all choose blindly: how could we know what we would miss about home when we’d never left it before?
Back-to-school Buildup
When school let out in June I was always as deliriously happy as every other kid running out of the building straight towards summer. And like every other kid, I spent most of the long holiday completely absorbed in my summer pursuits – if the thought of school ever flickered briefly through my brain it was usually attached to a “how many days before I have to go back there” panic. But inevitably, something shifted each August and the local pool started to look a little less inviting, the playground a little tired. I could no longer convince my brothers to play cards, or find any exciting books at the library. Slowly, school started to sound less like a curse word and more and more like something to look forward to.
My wise parents would fuel my back-to-school excitement by taking me to the corner drugstore and letting me indulge in a school supply shopping spree. A whole afternoon would pass while I stood in deep contemplation in front of the display of notebooks, folders, pencils and pencil cases. Everything was so pristine and intact and smelled so new.
Back-to-school Buildup
When school let out in June I was always as deliriously happy as every other kid running out of the building straight towards summer. And like every other kid, I spent most of the long holiday completely absorbed in my summer pursuits – if the thought of school ever flickered briefly through my brain it was usually attached to a “how many days before I have to go back there” panic. But inevitably, something shifted each August and the local pool started to look a little less inviting, the playground a little tired. I could no longer convince my brothers to play cards, or find any exciting books at the library. Slowly, school started to sound less like a curse word and more and more like something to look forward to.
My wise parents would fuel my back-to-school excitement by taking me to the corner drugstore and letting me indulge in a school supply shopping spree. A whole afternoon would pass while I stood in deep contemplation in front of the display of notebooks, folders, pencils and pencil cases. Everything was so pristine and intact and smelled so new.
A City Summer
Everybody complains about summer in the city, but I suspect a fair number of us secretly like it – I know I do. Yes, it’s hot. Yes, it’s sticky and a little grimy. And yes, it would be nice to be at the beach, or cooling off in the mountains somewhere. But cities come alive in the summer. There are outdoor concerts and outdoor dinners, outdoor games of Chinese chess and outdoor kisses. And suddenly, there are people everywhere: diners spilling out of restaurants to eat on the sidewalk, kids splashing together at the pool, revelers toasting one another on rooftops, families roaming the streets, slurping after-dinner popsicles. Put together, it’s one big, sweaty symphony of noise and energy and skin, and it’s exhilarating.
A City Summer
Everybody complains about summer in the city, but I suspect a fair number of us secretly like it – I know I do. Yes, it’s hot. Yes, it’s sticky and a little grimy. And yes, it would be nice to be at the beach, or cooling off in the mountains somewhere. But cities come alive in the summer. There are outdoor concerts and outdoor dinners, outdoor games of Chinese chess and outdoor kisses. And suddenly, there are people everywhere: diners spilling out of restaurants to eat on the sidewalk, kids splashing together at the pool, revelers toasting one another on rooftops, families roaming the streets, slurping after-dinner popsicles. Put together, it’s one big, sweaty symphony of noise and energy and skin, and it’s exhilarating.
Playground
Beijing’s newest space for kids
Beijing’s newest offering for kids is the brainchild of Sylvia Li and Jason Li (linked creatively but not matrimonially), two Beijing parents who shared daydreams about a fun and pleasant space where busy working parents could bring their children. Unhappy with the thought of their kids parked indoors, draining their afternoons away in front of the TV, the pair decided to get active, and thus, Playground was born.
Playground
Beijing’s newest space for kids
Beijing’s newest offering for kids is the brainchild of Sylvia Li and Jason Li (linked creatively but not matrimonially), two Beijing parents who shared daydreams about a fun and pleasant space where busy working parents could bring their children. Unhappy with the thought of their kids parked indoors, draining their afternoons away in front of the TV, the pair decided to get active, and thus, Playground was born.
Coaster Crazy
Any kid who grows up in Brooklyn has spent some summer days at Coney Island, our salty, rowdy, beachside amusement park. The park, which has its own subway stop, is worn-out, rough around the edges, and filled with electric energy – the type of place where your parents remind you to stay close, but then let go of your hand themselves to point out the guy with the falcon on his shoulder or to run ahead and snag you a place in line for a ride. Coney Island is home to the annual Mermaid Parade and the original Nathan’s Hotdogs, which serves amazing crinkle cut fries and hosts a famous hotdog eating contest. But more importantly, it’s home to The Cyclone.
Coaster Crazy
Any kid who grows up in Brooklyn has spent some summer days at Coney Island, our salty, rowdy, beachside amusement park. The park, which has its own subway stop, is worn-out, rough around the edges, and filled with electric energy – the type of place where your parents remind you to stay close, but then let go of your hand themselves to point out the guy with the falcon on his shoulder or to run ahead and snag you a place in line for a ride. Coney Island is home to the annual Mermaid Parade and the original Nathan’s Hotdogs, which serves amazing crinkle cut fries and hosts a famous hotdog eating contest. But more importantly, it’s home to The Cyclone.
