The Dark Art of Real Estate Alchemy in Brooklyn
If you ask the wrong real estate agent, they’d say Williamsburg extends east to the Atlantic and north to the pole as long as it meant getting them a few extra bucks on a sale. In fact, realtors do it every day. Real estate alchemy, the phenomenon in which neighborhood boundaries are twisted and contorted for the sake of profit, has annoyed residents, perplexed natives and lead to heated disputes around the city. Yesterday, the New York Times took at look the issue.
Growing up in the south end of this neighborhood, I never even heard the words “Ditmas Park” tossed around until the houses began to rise rapidly in value in my teenage years. While you can partly credit youthful ignorance for that, it seems as though Ditmas Park has quickly crept outward, transforming what were a number of distinct areas into one monolithic neighborhood on maps, in newspapers and in real estate ads at least (and yes, in part due to this blog and its predecessor).
Of course, this isn’t a new issue. In 1998, Jeff Ewing wrote to the New York Times to object to having West Midwood “casually obliterated” in favor of the name ‘Greater Ditmas Park’.
None of this is to cast aspersions on Ditmas Park, a beautiful neighborhood. It is only to urge that in lauding one Flatbush neighborhood The Times (and real estate professionals) not try to obliterate the other great Flatbush neighborhoods, or the Town of Flatbush itself.
When, in high school, a friend first described her area as Ditmas Park instead of West Midwood — the area I thought I lived in — it annoyed and confused me. I’ve since come to accept the serene if resigned wisdom of Lisa Keller. From the more recent Times piece:
“Anyone who says there is a defined neighborhood is off his rocker,” said Lisa Keller, executive editor of The Encyclopedia of New York City, a meticulously researched tome of five-borough facts.
When she set out to define neighborhood borders for the book, Ms. Keller contacted dozens of local experts and historians for each entry. “I talked to 20 people and got 12 different answers,” she said. In the end, she relied on a rough consensus for the borders she used in the book.
I’ve recently been browsing Craigslist in search of an apartment in the neighborhood (and recommendations are welcome!). Prices aside, the funniest thing I’ve seen is that Ditmas Park seems to extend to wherever the seller wants (especially far to the east) and is subject to whatever over-the-top adjectives they can conjure up.
Realtors are not the only ones to blame. As the Times points out, the entire process of naming these neighborhoods now falls to volunteers on sites such as Google Maps and Wikipedia. Once upon a time, the phone book made those decisions.
Viva West Midwood!
I’m curious what our neighborhood’s newest residents think of the area they’ve come to. Do you have stories to share of being hoodwinked about the neighborhood you moved to? For long-time residents and natives, how has your neighborhood’s borders and names changed?
Personally, I can’t wait until 2025 when we all live in Park Slope at long last.