Brooklyn is awash with signs of the Caribbean. All along Flatbush Avenue signals of a vibrant Caribbean immigrant presence shout at even the most casual observer. Storefronts advertise Caribbean nostalgia – the bright green, yellow, and black colors of a Jamaican flag, a palm tree, a stack of island newspapers in the window. But this is not empty symbolism – the Caribbean has come to New York. Small, garrulous groups of men and women congregate in front of Caribbean bakeries and restaurants to discuss the news from back home. Their animated conversations are thick with the inflections of Caribbean dialect. Jitney vans and dollar cabs perilously jockey for position as they compete for fares along the busy thoroughfare. Above the din, the sounds of calypso, reggae, and reggaeton music ring out. This is black New York.

Only a short train ride away is Bedford-Stuyvesant, one of the city's older African-American neighborhoods.