Editor’s Note: I confess I too forgot Staten Island

As a teen growing up in Manhattan in the 1980s, I drove my dad’s car onto the Staten Island Ferry (which was allowed then) for a day trip to the Staten Island Mall. After that, Staten Island became my “forgotten borough.” I wouldn’t return until I had a need to live there as an adult. I lived in St. George twice and once in Port Richmond. Each time gave me a good sense for why Staten Islanders love where they live and talk so much about secession. Sahalie Donaldson’s cover story in this issue provides a proper historical context for why Staten Island has been on the short end of the stick since becoming a part of New York City. 

Taking the Staten Island Ferry home every day was a pleasure after a hard day’s work. I enjoyed the quiet of the North Shore. I felt safe, except for some late nights when the streets were desolate. Occasionally, I ventured out into the borough’s suburbia and even returned to the same mall. Staten Island felt like an oasis away from the rest of the big city and its problems.

That’s why I like speaking with City Council Member Joe Borelli. He has a sober understanding of Staten Island’s placement in the great scheme of things and still advocates for the pipe dream that is secession. “Right now if I need a stop sign, I have to beg and plead with some bureaucrat who couldn’t tell Hylan Blvd from Highland Rd,” he texted me last week. “I won’t back off until we have a say in governing ourselves.” I had no argument there.