On the south side of Williamsburg, Brooklyn — nestled among the ever-expanding sea of trendy restaurants, boutique clothing stores, and hipster bars — sits an unassuming piece of real estate. The main gate at 244 Grand Street is almost always down. Its corrugated steel gives the impression of perpetual closure. But for those who know, the signs of life are all there: the open side entrance door, music emanating from within, and local Puerto Ricans and Dominicans congregating on the sidewalk. This is the Caribbean Social Club, affectionately known as Toñitas. And this summer, as she’s done for the past 11 years, owner Maria “Toñita” Cay is shutting down the street and throwing an old-school block party in the heart of “Los Sures.”
The Caribbean Social Club originally opened in 1974 as a “members only” space where community members could watch baseball as they ate and drank for free. As the decades have faded one into the next, Williamsburg has become one of the most gentrified neighborhoods in all of New York City. First came the artists and hipsters, then came the restaurants and shops, followed by the yuppies. Humble apartment blocks turned into high rises and luxury condos. The Puerto Rican community shrank, displaced by rising rents and lured away by the prospect of a better life elsewhere. However, in Los Sures, Toñita stood her ground and resisted “hipsterizing” the social club. It remains unabashedly old-school, its wooden tables and plastic tablecloths giving off “abuelita-casita” vibes.
Toñitas is open to everyone these days, and while a beer will set you back three dollars, the homemade Puerto Rican food is still free. On any given day, you can find a crew of old-timers gathered around the domino table while a few of the neighborhood’s younger residents shoot around at the pool table at the club’s center. Then, of course, there are the celebrity guest appearances. Artists from Bad Bunny to Nicky Jam to Rauw Alejandro have all made it a point to stop by and pay their respects when they’ve been in New York. It just goes to show the importance the social club and Toñita herself have — not just in the neighborhood but across the diaspora.
And then, of course, there’s Toñita herself. She’s at the club almost every night and can usually be seen sitting at the bar, her gold-ringed fingers glinting as she leafs through a mountain of singles. And while the pressure to sell continues to mount daily, she continues to make it clear that she’s not going anywhere.
The upcoming block party on June 16 is a big deal. It’s not just a milestone. Yes, 50 years in continuous operation makes the Caribbean Social Club the city’s oldest Puerto Rican-owned social club. But it’s more that, in her steadfast resistance to displacement, Toñita and her club have become an anchor of Puerto Rican culture. And what better way to let the new residents of southside Williamsburg know that than with an event where we shut down traffic, blast our music, put our cuisine on display, and dance long into the night? Speaking of dancing, the 50th anniversary will be scored by a who’s who of NYC heavy hitters, including DJ Tahleim, DJ Bembona, Christian Mártir, and Standing On The Corner. Oh, and there will also be a domino tournament for all the domino players out there.
It’s the type of event that used to be commonplace across the barrios of NYC but, as the years have gone by, has become rarer (maybe with the exception of certain neighborhoods uptown and in the Bronx). I remember that, as a kid, every other street was blocked off by those blue wooden police barriers on weekends in the summer. For me, Toñitas 50th is a chance to celebrate “la Reina” herself as well as the old NYC I grew up in. It’s a chance to be around like-minded Caribbean creatives and reinforce the support pattern necessary for our communities and connections to survive in gentrified New York.
While writing this article, I stopped by Toñitas on three separate occasions to get quotes from her. Each time, I was met by a lowered gate and a locked door. Running a business for 50 years is no easy feat. And it appears that all the late nights of hosting the community and all the cooking is starting to catch up to Toñita. She’s said on numerous occasions that she’ll keep running the club for as long as she can, but there may come a day when she decides to put her health first and pass the torch to one of the club’s co-owners. So, on June 16, I know exactly where I’ll be: on Grand Street between Roebling and Driggs Avenues, listening to Caribbean sounds and slamming down my fichas with the rest of the community as we let the city know: “We’re still here.”
Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.