The crowded and noisome fish markets, the vendors sitting in crude shanties filled with counterfeit handbags, the language and lettering: all transported me to a different city that I didn’t understand. ‘I’m not in Manhattan anymore,’ I thought when I first moved into Chinatown two years ago. I felt like an outsider in my own neighborhood. Because I was an outsider.
This magazine features top reporting and storytelling by undergraduates at New York University's Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute. The stories were developed and edited under their' professors' guidance, and ours. More »
My great-grandfather was a lawyer from Cairo, Egypt’s bustling capital city. His father lost his shirt in the stock market with disastrous consequences, so when it was my great-grandfather’s turn to try his hand at making a fortune, he took a different tack.
Kerry Higgins was at a concert with her best friend from college. They were standing outside the arena when a guy to her left began to stare. He was looking at the two-foot long, jagged pink scar on Kerry’s right leg. He finally asked her what had happened to her. Without hesitation, she looked him in the eyes and said, “I was attacked by a shark.”
Michael Mantegna has an alluring presence. He is well built, and almost looks like he could be Tom Ford’s younger brother. Perhaps not surprisingly, Mantegna counts Ford as one of his style icons.
On weekends, Sharif Esmail works the night shift at one of New York’s many halal food carts – one that never moves and never closes.
Though squashed into a strip of bland chain stores, Games Workshop embraces an entirely different reality.
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