I’M SORRY, NEW JERSEY
(Published in the Paterson Literary Review Summer 2024)
“$30 a person?” I’m about to lose it as I argue with the clerk at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“But, but it’s pay what you wish for New York residents and this summer the clerk let us in with just the zip code.” I proudly give him my old Jackson Heights zip code, 11372. I forgot it, but looked it up on the way here. Granted we were lying to the guy this summer, we no longer live in the city, but I did live in the city for 20 years - 4 out of 5 boroughs in my lifetime.
Also, this past summer I was there on my birthday so somehow I felt I deserved it and we still gave a nice donation just not the $30 for each adult (and my teens qualify as adults now).
This kid behind the desk seems to love his position of authority, “I’m sorry ma'am, I don’t know how you got in last time without I.D.” He’s using “ma'am" to remind me I’m old, “but you need a New York I.D. - otherwise it’s $30 for adults. Your son & daughter could be $17 IF they have student I.D. from the Tri-state area.”
Not being able to let this go I step aside as I tell him I’ll wait for my husband who is on his way after teaching at BROOKLYN College. I figure we’ll use the Brooklyn College I.D. and just wait the 10 minutes.
But when my husband arrives the same clerk looks down from his pedestal, “Only students are allowed to use college I.D. for suggested admission. College professors are full price!” You cheap ass... he didn’t say cheap ass, but his tone said it all.
Look I could afford the admission, it’s not that - it’s the principle because I was a New Yorker, and now I am a Tri-state area person (or whatever you want to call it). My face is getting red and I know that any minute I could really embarrass myself, but I cannot stop talking, my husband and kids step back retreating out of the admission area, “Look I know you changed the rules, I mean I heard about the change on NPR,” okay now I hear myself and know I sound like a “Karen” so I tone it down, I look at my multi-racial husband for help hoping that might make me look less stereotypical, but he’s disappeared.
“I know it’s not your fault, but you see Essex County is really like Westchester or even one of the boroughs. We’re only 30 minutes away on the express train, a 25 minute drive on a good day. . .okay a really, really, really good day.”
Twenty minutes ago when I first started arguing with the guy and before my husband came in, I was resenting ever moving from New York, thinking, “my husband talked me into the Jersey burbs and now I might not get into the Met for free!” Now, however, this guy is making me want to defend New Jersey; I want to argue with the kid some more. Does anyone on the board of the MET realize how convenient but also quite lovely New Jersey is as a state?
Yes, I presume New York tax dollars help pay for the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but us New Jerseyans (and thinking of myself as a New Jerseyan represents some growth), we the people from Jersey pay exorbitant tolls on bridges and tunnels, we pay the Broadway show prices, keep restaurants thriving, and hell, half of us are probably from New York anyway and paid New York taxes for the majority of our years.
When I was growing up my whole New York family joked about New Jersey. All I knew was the highways, the smell when traveling through the town with the same lovely name as my own, Elizabeth. “Aargh, close the windows,” dad would say. The color of the sky seemed to change from blue to gray as we came through the Holland or Lincoln Tunnels. A New Yorker travels through New Jersey not to New Jersey. The entire state was a thoroughfare for us New Yorkers to visit family in Pennsylvania or travel down to D.C. It was never a destination.
When I was in college my tone started to change a little because one of my wealthy college friends had a summer home in Sea Girt, New Jersey. I remember loving the charming houses with porches overlooking the ocean, but in my egocentric New York head this was just a ‘small’ part of New Jersey. I mean we had beautiful, beaches on Long Island!
The New Jersey ocean was also overshadowed by the awful drive to my college town in Pennsylvania. Oh my God I remember exiting Route 80 to get gas or food and winding up, heaven help me, on one of New Jersey’s terrible routes, like Route 22. The devil made that road. Who puts stores at either side and in the middle of a 6 lane highway! The devil I tell you. The Jersey resentment only grew when I had my first fender bender car accident from having to surprisingly suddenly stop for George Washington Bridge traffic when the bridge was still at least 60 miles away!
But then in 2013 my husband, two kids and I grew out of our small Queens apartment and it felt like everyone we knew told us (as an inter-racial couple), “checkout Maplewood, NJ, it’s very diverse.” (Now there’s another story for another day about how at first I felt resentful about this because it seemed like we were being segregated to a summer camp for such couples). However, after one easy trip to the Maplewood area on NJ Transit, and a walk through the lovely town (where yes there were people of all shapes and shades), my husband was convinced. We visited a lot in the spring and the town was an explosion of colors with the cherry blossoms trees, tulips, and daffodils all in bloom. I wound up falling in love with all the nearby parks, Maplewood Memorial Park, but also neighboring South Orange and Millburn had their own parks intricately landscaped around the Rahway River complete with duck ponds.
Once settled in New Jersey I took a job as the Macaroni Kid mom, writing about NJ activities for the family website. Suddenly I had to become an expert on all things NJ at least in my area of Essex & Union counties. In the research for my site I discovered that besides it seeming like every town in NJ has it’s own charming park, there are not 1, not 2, but about 5 large reservations within 20 minutes of my home (one of the reasons they call it the Garden State!)
I could go on and on about New Jersey having the first Boardwalk and seaside resort and I didn’t even mention how you can catch the best views of New York City from the Palisades, Hoboken, or Jersey City. However, the boastful part of me is probably from my New York parentage.
Admittedly when I go to my in-laws in Canada I still refer to myself as a New Yorker, but recently when one of my in-laws said, “I’m so glad my work conference is in San Diego this year, not some town in New Jersey” my stomach did somersaults as if someone insulted my child!
Back at the Metropolitan Museum of Art Father Superior looks down at me with disgust. This happened to be one of those days where it did not take us the blissful 25 minutes to drive in - more like 1.5 - 2 hours. Fresh out of arguments I fork over $120 for the privilege to get lost in the maze of art that I grew up going to for $5-$15 or whatever my parents, New York public school teachers, could afford that day.
So I’m sorry New Jersey for all the bad feelings and sarcasm when I was growing up. I really do admire and love my adopted state, but I will always hate Route 22 (and don’t even start me on congestion pricing!)