No Place to Be

There is a sign next to the Barclays Center that sends pinpricks of revulsion down my spine every time I see it. You know the one: “We Belong Here,” in pink, neon cursive script. Opened in 2012, Barclays famously displaced hundreds of neighborhood residents, drove out small business owners by raising property prices, and created a permanent traffic jam on Atlantic Avenue. The arena’s arty welcome mat is, of course, a paean to the “authentic city” marketing tactic that effaces and tokenizes those who really did once belong. But read another way, the motto effects a defensive posture in the face of suspicion and recites the consumer’s prerogative: “We have our tickets, we bought our treats, we have a right to be here.”

Pay to enter, pay to park, pay to piss (bathroom for customers only). Everywhere you look, the city glares back and demands a dollar. The commodification of our shared urban space is mostly met with weary resignation; the homogeneit…