I was born and raised in Coney Island. The boardwalk, the beach, the scent of Nathan’s fries on a summer afternoon—this isn’t just scenery to me. It’s my home. It's where generations of families, including mine, have found joy, work and identity. That’s why I’m speaking out against the proposed casino. Because what’s being sold as economic development is really a gamble on the backs of the people who live here.
Coney Island deserves development, but not the kind that feeds addiction, drains families and changes the soul of a neighborhood. We need investment, yes—but investment that builds, not breaks. That includes schools, youth programs, mental health services, local businesses, green spaces and housing. A casino does none of that. Instead, it exploits hardship and promises jobs while ignoring the long-term social cost.
I've seen what real community growth looks like. Luna Park brought families together, gave young people summer jobs, and boosted the local economy through joy, not despair. That’s the kind of development we need more of—family-centered, safe and rooted in our culture. A casino would do the opposite. It would draw in outsiders looking to win big while local residents pay the real price.
Let’s be honest: casinos don’t uplift communities, they consume them. There are some studies that have shown links between casinos and increases in crime, bankruptcy, domestic abuse and mental health issues. We’re told it’ll create jobs, but what kind of jobs? Will they be unionized, full-time, with benefits and career paths? Or will they be low-wage, high-turnover roles that serve a machine designed to take more than it gives?
The promise of tourism is also misleading. Coney Island already draws millions annually. People come for the beach, the rides, the history, the culture—not for slot machines and roulette tables. A casino won’t enhance the Coney experience; it will overshadow and undermine it.
What’s especially troubling is how these casino proposals target working-class, minority communities like ours. We’re sold fantasies of prosperity while the reality is cycles of poverty. It’s not just about money—it’s about values. Do we really want the next generation growing up in the shadow of neon lights and gambling halls? Or do we want them raised in a place that encourages education, opportunity and community pride?
There’s a reason people all over Coney Island are organizing against this. We’re not anti-development, we’re pro-community. We want smart, sustainable growth that respects our past and builds toward a better future. This casino threatens that vision.
I ask our elected officials, developers and fellow New Yorkers to listen—not just to the lobbyists and investors, but to the people who actually live here. We’re the ones who will bear the impact long after the ribbon-cutting photos fade. The story of Coney Island is one of resilience, culture and working-class pride. Let’s not let it become another cautionary tale of greed over good.
We deserve more than what’s being offered. We deserve safe streets, good schools, youth centers, green parks, housing people can afford and businesses we can build ourselves—not a casino we didn’t ask for.
Coney Island’s soul can’t be sold. It’s too rich in history, too full of life and too important to let go without a fight. We reject the casino—not because we fear change, but because we demand better.
Let’s not bet our future away. Let’s build something worth keeping.
Kasim English is a lifelong Coney Island resident who still remembers his first ride on the Cyclone.
