Detroit
I spent the first twenty-three years of my life in Detroit. Therefore, I was witness to the 'white flight' that changed the city from a residential area of home ownership to renters, from middle class majority to the poor.
I was researching crime statistics today and discovered that the FBI's crime statistics for 2005 won't be available until October 2006. Therefore, my search for recent statistics was confined to the year 2004. Unfortunately, the numbers speak for themselves. The 2004 statistics showed that Detroit was the least safest city in the entire United States.
Therefore, when friends and family suggest that I accompany them on outings to Detroit, I politely decline, and privately wonder why they would want to take the risk.
I undertand how they can ignore the crime. When I lived in Detroit, I just accepted the chaos that existed around me as a part of life. It was not until I left the city that I realized that life did not have to be lived that way.
Although crime never touched me directly, it came close enough. I remember when my brother Chuck's rusting 'ghetto sled' of a car was stolen from its parked position next to the house. The police found the car abandoned a day or so later, in Hamtramck.
More than once, I heard gunshots echoing outside the house. I was taught never to investigate the source of the sound. Rather, I was told to stay away from the doors and windows, lest a stray bullet find me.
On one particular day, the police came to our door and asked if anyone had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. I and the members of my family informed the police that we had no information to share regarding the multiple homicides that had taken place in a house across the street from ours. I mentally shrugged, not as upset as perhaps I should have been. While the thought of murder was disturbing, I can't say that I minded the fact that there were a couple of less drug dealers in the neighborhood.
Later, one of my brothers confessed to me that he had heard gunshots and had seen a car drive away, and he might have even glimpsed the murderer. He chose not to share the information with the police, declining involvement in black-on-black, criminal vs. criminal activity.
I disagreed. If I had the information, I would have shared it. It sickens me, that the main cause of death among young black men in the city is *other* young black men. Where the hell did values go? Why is it that Black English and wretched grammar and syntax are something to be proud of? When did ignorance become something to be proud of?
The above is part of the reason that I am considering returning to school to get a Master's Degree in Education. If I can reach just one of those fucked up high school students, I will have accomplished something. All I need now is money. *sigh*
I think that I'd make a great high school science teacher. There's a bit of the frustrated actress in me, and in a classroom I could take center stage. I could make the subject matter interesting and entertaining enough to reach at least some of my audience of students.
For the time being, I'm taking a page from Professor Harold Hill. I'm applying the 'think' system to my desire to obtain additional education.
*****
I was researching crime statistics today and discovered that the FBI's crime statistics for 2005 won't be available until October 2006. Therefore, my search for recent statistics was confined to the year 2004. Unfortunately, the numbers speak for themselves. The 2004 statistics showed that Detroit was the least safest city in the entire United States.
Therefore, when friends and family suggest that I accompany them on outings to Detroit, I politely decline, and privately wonder why they would want to take the risk.
I undertand how they can ignore the crime. When I lived in Detroit, I just accepted the chaos that existed around me as a part of life. It was not until I left the city that I realized that life did not have to be lived that way.
Although crime never touched me directly, it came close enough. I remember when my brother Chuck's rusting 'ghetto sled' of a car was stolen from its parked position next to the house. The police found the car abandoned a day or so later, in Hamtramck.
More than once, I heard gunshots echoing outside the house. I was taught never to investigate the source of the sound. Rather, I was told to stay away from the doors and windows, lest a stray bullet find me.
On one particular day, the police came to our door and asked if anyone had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. I and the members of my family informed the police that we had no information to share regarding the multiple homicides that had taken place in a house across the street from ours. I mentally shrugged, not as upset as perhaps I should have been. While the thought of murder was disturbing, I can't say that I minded the fact that there were a couple of less drug dealers in the neighborhood.
Later, one of my brothers confessed to me that he had heard gunshots and had seen a car drive away, and he might have even glimpsed the murderer. He chose not to share the information with the police, declining involvement in black-on-black, criminal vs. criminal activity.
I disagreed. If I had the information, I would have shared it. It sickens me, that the main cause of death among young black men in the city is *other* young black men. Where the hell did values go? Why is it that Black English and wretched grammar and syntax are something to be proud of? When did ignorance become something to be proud of?
The above is part of the reason that I am considering returning to school to get a Master's Degree in Education. If I can reach just one of those fucked up high school students, I will have accomplished something. All I need now is money. *sigh*
I think that I'd make a great high school science teacher. There's a bit of the frustrated actress in me, and in a classroom I could take center stage. I could make the subject matter interesting and entertaining enough to reach at least some of my audience of students.
For the time being, I'm taking a page from Professor Harold Hill. I'm applying the 'think' system to my desire to obtain additional education.
*****
posted by Beth G. at 8:33 AM
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