To the editor,
Sharon Marquez has been a crossing guard at West 231st Street and Kingsbridge Avenue for 25 years. The joy she brings to everyone in the neighborhood is remarkable. She always, no matter rain or snow or blasting heat, says hello to anyone crossing as she makes sure they are safe.
When I heard she was retiring, I sat down with her after her morning shift to find out more about her life. She grew up in Brooklyn in a loving home filled with fourteen siblings. Did she know she would one day be a crossing guard? As it turns out her older sister suggested it to her one day when Sharon accompanied her and her nieces and nephews to the zoo. Sharon instinctively stood in the crosswalk to put her hand up so the children could cross safely. “You are a natural, Sharon. You could be a crossing guard one day,” her sister suggested.
As it turns out Sharon started out as a home health aide for many years. Her last job as a home health aide was in the 1990’s when she helped an elderly woman in Manhattan. She helped her for the last ten years of her life. She still has contact with the woman’s adult children and their families and always receives birthday cards from them. When that job ended she decided to become a crossing guard.
All crossing guards have to stand for many hours in all kinds of weather. When I asked her what the hardest part of her job was she said, “Bad weather.” Especially in the winter; navigating the snowy corners and helping people be safe as they cross can be very difficult. She laughed when she said “I won’t miss the snow when I retire in Florida.”
And what’s the best part of your job? That was an easy question for her to answer. “I love connecting with people.” I got curious. How many people do you think you say hello to every day? Her smile widened. As she thought about it, I told her that in the past ten minutes, at least 20 people had said hello to her as we sat on a bench talking. “Maybe 300-400 people.” She said proudly. I have a feeling it might be even closer to 500 people.
Sharon will be greatly missed by the community.
BETH ROSEN