Singin' at Da Nonna Rosa
When Ginny was about eight months old we joined a music class in our neighborhood. Being a single-income family in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Brooklyn, I was always really frugal about our afternoon activities. At around $20 a pop you could really fill your day and drain your budget on kids classes. But there is only so much you can do to entertain your babies without going insane, and for me making sure I had some kind of adult contact when you’re alone all day was paramount for my mental health. So I splurged on Miss Debbie’s music class, which took place a few times a week above a local pizzeria called Da Nonna Rosa.
My mom thought this was hysterical. Only in NYC could you attend a music class and get a slice at the same time. And Debbie is the perfect mix of elementary school teacher and liberal Brooklynite. You once got a free slice of pizza during the holiday sing-a-long if you could rhyme the word “impeach” with the dreidel song.
Oh, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of clay, And when it's bright as bleach Then, Trump I will impeach!
Ginny loved this class. The first few times we attended she would sit in my lap, hands clutching the side of my legs as we sat on the pizzeria floor. She was in awe of Miss Debbie. It only took a few classes for her to get comfortable and after a while Ginny would venture up, grab an egg shaker, and slowly sway back and forth to the music.
Unfortunately, once Ginny started daycare the timing of the music class didn’t work out and we said goodbye to Miss Debbie. But everytime I passed Da Nonna Rosa on 7th Ave a warm sense of nostalgia would wash over me. I’d continue to sing some of our favorites to Ginny long after we stopped going to class.
Fast forward what feels like years, we are quarantined in Buffalo, New York in my parent’s house. Even though it’s been amazing to gain the space and childcare help, some days my heart aches for Brooklyn. The busy streets, the energy of the city, the friends and communities we left behind. This would have been my 10th year living in New York. Not only did we abandon our brand new apartment, some days I feel like we abandoned our city.
Two weeks ago Miss Debbie reached out via email to let us know that she was starting an online music class. Each week she would livestream on facebook and we could tune in, submit requests, and be part of her sing-a-long. I wasn’t sure what Ginny would think of the livestream, but we tuned in to check it out.
Sitting in my parents living room in Buffalo Debbie started to sing her classic hello song.
What’s your name? Tell me, what’s your name? Your name is Ginny! Hiiiii, Ginny, Hiiiii, Ginny. Singin’ at Da Nonna Rosa!
I took a big exhale and started to cry. We were back. For a few minutes I felt a sense of normalcy as Ginny sat in my lap mesmerized as Miss Debbie sang to her, and the rest of the Brooklyn kids, some of whom have relocated all over the United States.
I don’t know when we will be able to go back home to Brooklyn, but every few days we join Miss Debbie’s class to sing songs like You Are My Sunshine and my favorite, Taxi. And even though some days it hurts to be out of the city we love so much, this class makes it feel just a little bit more like home.
Xx,
Written by Erin Bagwell
Copy edited by Diana Matthews