Berta, a 54-year-old Mexican single mother, has sold coquitos y paletas (ices and fruit popsicles) from a cart on the corner of Fordham Road and Webster Avenue for the past 10 years.

“My dream is to get enough money to move back to Mexico and buy a house there,” says Berta, who did not want to give her real name, in Spanish.

This year, Berta secured a vending permit with help from VAMOS Unidos (Street Vendors Mobilizing and Organizing in Solidarity), a year-old Fordham-based advocacy group that helps 230 vendors, most of whom sell food.

VAMOS Unidos’ main goal is to increase the available vending permits, which the city has updated by only 1,000 in nearly 30 years. There are an estimated 5,000 to 15,000 street vendors in the city who operate without a permit.

Merchandise vendors, except veterans and art vendors, need only a license, but they are capped at 853. Food vendors need both licenses, which are unlimited, and permits, which are capped at 4,100. Both have waiting lists in the thousands. Green Cart permits, for whole fruits and vegetables, are capped at 1,000 over the next two years.

Before this year, Berta vended illegally, and says police harassed, ticketed and arrested her (though the Bronx district attorney’s office could not find any criminal complaints against her). On average, a legal vendor receives five tickets per year, while illegal ones receive 10 to 20 per year, according to VAMOS Unidos Director Rafael Samanez.

“If more vendors had carts, then they could sell more merchandise and it would be more sanitary,” Samanez says. “Plus the city would collect more money from permits.”

 

‘No jobs’

Along the bustling shopping district of Fordham Road, dozens of street vendors hawking items ranging from kebab and fruit to clothes and toys line the sidewalks.

“These vendors live in the neighborhood,” Samanez says. “But there are no jobs, so this is the only way they can make a living.” The average food vendor makes only $30 to $50 per day while working 12 to 14 hours per day, he says.

Many businesses do not mind the street vendors, but some do.

“Businesses draw people, but street vendors draw people away from businesses,” says Ozzie Martinez, manager at Best Italian Pizza. “It becomes an annoyance. The vendors are too close to businesses, block sidewalks and are not as clean as they should be.”

To complain, Martinez calls the Fordham Road Business Improvement District (BID), which calls the police to move the vendors. The 46th, 48th and 52nd precincts patrol Fordham Road daily, in addition to surprise sweeps every couple of months, according to Lt. Charles Hammer of the 52nd Precinct.

The police and the Health Department are the main city agencies that ticket street vendors for the more than 20 different violations, which are heard at the Environmental Control Board (ECB). For repeat offenders, these violations can cost up to $1,000 each.

In fiscal year 2007, the ECB heard 25,828 vending violations, and in fiscal year 2008 it heard 21,388, according to statistics provided by ECB. Common violations include not displaying a permit, being in a bus stop, and being within 10 feet of a driveway, subway or crosswalk.

Vendors can be charged with less costly misdemeanors, which are settled in criminal court. The city can also confiscate vendors’ merchandise and carts, which takes a long time to retrieve, Hammer and Samanez agree.

Police can arrest illegal vendors for having an outstanding warrant — often for not showing up to criminal court — or for not having identification, Hammer says. Police arrest five to 15 of VAMOS Unidos’ members every week, Samanez says.

 

Complaints of Harassment

And in fact, while Berta scooped lemon ice one day in May, a police patrol wagon rolled past Berta’s stand with four street vendors inside. Vendors also complain about police harassment, such as racial slurs and physical force, though Hammer says, “There is no such thing.”

The BID tolerates street vendors – up to a point. “Businesses don’t really complain about the vendors,” says Wilma Alonso, the BID’s executive director. “As long as they’re not blocking an entrance or have a lot of smoke, everything is fine.”

Alonso wants organizations to train street vendors to become small business owners, so they can pay rents, salaries and taxes like BID members.

Samanez counters that street vendors do pay taxes. Most vendors do not want to become small business owners since many are single mothers who like the flexible schedule and have had difficulty finding another job because they do not speak English, he says.

“There are a lot of positives being a street vendor,” Samanez says. “Some were vendors in Africa or Latin America. And some vendors make a little bit more than they would working minimum wage jobs.”

 

Legislative Limbo

The vendors’ biggest problem is that the City Council has not increased merchandise license caps since 1981 and not since 1979 for food permits.

Street vendors have only 15 to 20 allies in City Council, according to Brooklyn Council Member Charles Barron, who sponsored successful legislation making it illegal for the Department of Consumer Affairs to ask the immigration status of vendors applying for merchandise licenses.

“Licenses [and permits] have not been increased due to racism, xenophobia and big businesses,” Barron said in a phone interview, echoing statements of street vendor organizers. “Many vendors are people of color and immigrants who do not give big amounts of money to campaigns.”

However, street vendor legislation is picking up steam. Manhattan Council Member Alan Gerson is proposing legislation to clarify where street vendors can sell, but also doubles the penalties while increasing permits by a minimum of 20 percent.

Samanez and Barron are against Gerson’s bill because they say penalties are already high and the bill does not adequately increase the number of permits. VAMOS Unidos and Barron are separately working on legislation that would significantly increase license and permit caps.

But until legislation addresses their needs, many street vendors remain vulnerable.

Maria (not her real name), a Mexican single mother with two kids, who makes $30 a day selling sliced fruit, has a license but not a permit.

“I became a vendor as a last resort,” Maria says in Spanish. “I have to pay the rent and put food on the table, but I would prefer to be vending with a permit.”

-Jessica Glazer contributed additional reporting to this story.