Tompkins Square Park was at the center of everything. It was where I made my friends, and it was where my mother made hers. All the bohemian mothers gravitated toward one another, some having met before becoming parents, others arriving at the park with their children. They were writers and poets and textile artists and activists and musicians and dancers and painters, or they were married to writers and poets, etc. Although the various groups of women stationed on the benches throughout the park dressed differently, often spoke different languages, raised their children differently, they all floated in a state of economic equipoise.
Loved this, thank you. I was one of those mothers, but sitting in the playground on Houston Street, with other mothers. But we had a co-op playgroup.