Brooklyn’s vibrant skateboarding scene is undeniable today, but it wasn’t always this way. Just a couple of decades ago, Brooklyn’s skate culture was barely visible. The transformation, particularly in Williamsburg, the neighborhood synonymous with the rise of the modern hipster, is quite remarkable. Once a hub for blue-collar immigrant families and before that, home to the Canarsee tribe, Williamsburg underwent significant changes. The decline of manufacturing in the 1960s led to a period of unemployment, crime, and drug issues. However, a rezoning law in the early 2000s sparked a wave of gentrification, reshaping the neighborhood entirely. We explore this transformation through the lens of two skaters, Terrence Miele and Damian Bielak, who grew up in Williamsburg and are capturing its pre-gentrified essence through their photography, compiled in their book, Skate Lovin’ Rascals.
Terrance and Kamil in 90s Williamsburg
Brooklyn’s Industrial Past
Damian Bielak described Brooklyn during their childhood as an “industrial wasteland,” abandoned after factories and jobs moved elsewhere. The area was impoverished, yet the residents were resilient, resourceful, and creative. Williamsburg felt forgotten by the city, yet the view of the Empire State Building across the East River was a constant reminder of the city’s affluence. The community was diverse, with Polish and Italian immigrants in the Northside and Puerto Rican and Dominican populations in the Southside. Artists congregated near the L train, often new to the country and staying close to their communities, with some never learning English due to their self-sufficient community. Terrance Miele recalls Williamsburg as a haven for artists and photographers seeking affordable rent. While others partied, Terrance explored on his bike, documenting the people and the changing landscape. He noted the presence of drugs among the Polish youth in the late 90s, a reflection of the boredom, curiosity, and trauma of the time, evident in the faces and expressions of his subjects.
Kent Ave in Williamsburg
The DIY Skate Scene
The Williamsburg skate scene was distinctly DIY. Skaters would use found objects like cones and police barriers to create their own rails. Terrence often encountered the police who were perplexed by his interest in documenting the neighborhood’s landscape, lacking appreciation for its beauty. Damian recalls the rough terrain, with cracked and crooked streets and sidewalks, causing a painful rattling sensation. Despite the physical discomfort, there was a magic to it, every summer day an adventure. He found that neglect fosters imagination, a valuable resource for them.
A group of skaters in "Skankytown"
The most popular skate spot was Washington Park, also known as The Monument. Other frequented areas included the BQE and The Square at McGuiness Blvd, despite the danger of passing cars. Kids at the time, often seen with cigarettes and alcohol, were trying to appear tough and grown-up due to a lack of vulnerability and sensitivity. This was influenced by cultural norms of drinking and smoking at a young age in Poland, where Damian’s parents were from. Damian remembers his father jokingly offering him and his brother beer as kids.
A group of young skaters in Williamsburg
The Waterfront’s Hidden Gem
There was a DIY park along the water on Kent Ave, a spot known only to insiders. This mile-long strip of the waterfront was neglected, with overgrown weeds and rotting piers. People would fish, live in handmade shacks, and play music. The view of the city made everything seem possible. This spot was featured in the Skankytown-The Brooklyn Volcano Skate Spot video, showcasing skaters like Steve Rodriguez, Jason Dill, and Bobby Puleo. The spot was eventually lost to development around 2006.
Skaters at the DIY park on the Williamsburg waterfront
September 11th and Its Aftermath
On September 11th, Terrence was off work. He watched the events unfold on TV, eventually going to the waterfront to take photos. He describes the feeling of documenting a tragedy while maintaining sensitivity and integrity. The city was deeply affected in the years following, particularly small businesses, photography, and the movie industry, forcing many to seek alternative employment.
The Square in Williamsburg, with Terrence skating
Pioneers of the Scene
Damian credits Amy Gunther, owner of KCDC, for putting Williamsburg on the map. KCDC was a skateboarding hub, and the first shop in the area, fostering a sense of community. Its original location on North 11th, with its mini ramp, was a special place for skaters. The block, which included the Yellow Ledge on the corner of North 11th and Wythe Ave, was a popular skate spot.
A photo of Marek
The Onset of Gentrification
Major development began around 2005 when then-mayor Michael Bloomberg rezoned the area from industrial to residential. This attracted investors who constructed luxury housing along the waterfront, making the neighborhood unaffordable for working-class residents. Terrance recalls when US News and World Report listed the neighborhood as a Top 10 place for artists, landlords started refusing to renew leases to increase revenue from new tenants. They began renting out bare loft spaces at inflated prices, taking advantage of the neighborhood’s popularity.
South 5th St in Williamsburg
Rent and Residency
Terrance has a rent-stabilized apartment. While it has its advantages, maintenance and repairs are often a challenge due to his lower rent. He has also witnessed the transient nature of Williamsburg, experiencing many roommates who eventually moved away. Rents have skyrocketed from $600-$800 a month when he first moved there to $1800-$2500.
Night shot of Terrence skating in Williamsburg in the 90s
The Stretching of Neighborhood Boundaries
The term “Williamsburg” is now being used to commodify other parts of Brooklyn. Areas once labeled Greenpoint to attract Polish residents are now being marketed as Williamsburg. There is a limit to how far the borders of a neighborhood can be stretched, Damian notes.
The Monument in 1999
The Toxicity of the East River
Terrance never considered swimming in the East River, due to the presence of waste management and chemical companies. He learned about the Newtown Creek oil spill and associated health issues which further discouraged him from going into the river.
Cheyenne and Karol in Williamsburg
The Old Williamsburg
While much has changed, some of the people that Terrance photographed are still around, raising their own families. They have managed to stay in the neighborhood due to low-income or rent-stabilized apartments. As a photographer, Terrance is always looking for places that evoke his sense of nostalgia. Damian notes that communities find a way to stay put. He appreciates that older people in Williamsburg still remember him from when he was a child.
Terrence skating in The Square in Williamsburg in the 90s
Assimilating Into New Communities
For skateboarders moving into low-income neighborhoods, it’s crucial to respect the history and memories of the people who live there. Damian emphasizes that these spaces are sacred, holding love, pain, and childhood memories. Terrence advises skaters to be humble, not pushy, and to respect the philosophy of “Locals Only.” They should allow relationships to develop naturally and to create trust.
Documenting a Changing Landscape
Terrence began documenting Williamsburg because he knew the culture was fading. He felt a unique charisma and honesty in the 90s that had to be captured. Damian wanted to document his childhood, fearing he would lose all that reminded him of it. His mother’s eviction experience made him more sensitive to the changes around him. He and Terrence channeled their frustration into documenting their community.
Through Skate Lovin’ Rascals, Terrence and Damian have preserved a snapshot of Williamsburg’s past, a valuable reminder of the community that existed before the wave of gentrification. Their work serves as a testament to the importance of documenting the history of a place and its people, ensuring that it is never forgotten.
