As the warm weather approaches, certain things are inevitable; there will be lots of flowers, travel, outdoor activities and murder.
In
metropolitan areas across the nation, the numbers of young people-particularly black
and Latino youth-who will be gunned down, locked up and permanently locked out
of any possibility of living long, safe and productive lives will rise. With an
economy still suffering from the recession, with minority youth already experiencing
disproportionate poverty and unemployment rates, crime will rise. With illegal drugs
considered the viable option to get paid, the death of young people in urban
areas is sadly predictable.
This
nationwide pandemic won't be solved by politicians pursuing
a deficit-reduction plan that will eliminate or further shred safety net programs
for the poor and disadvantaged. To date, the response to illegal
drug activity and youth violence has been incarceration. With almost two
million people (the majority of which are Black and Latino)caught up in the
criminal justice system, a cash-strapped nation must face the fact that this
problem cannot be locked away.
Therefore,
it is imperative that every day, compassionate people grapple with the issue of
youth-related murder and death and come up with innovative, in-the-community remedies
to stem the problem.
Why in-the-community? Ask yourself these questions:
What happens to children who grow up in a neighborhoods where selling drugs is considered the only viable option to generate income?
Can young people ever see themselves as entrepreneurs when there are very few successful examples of entrepreneurism in their neighborhoods?
How can children in communities, defined daily as "bad,
violent or deadly," ever take pride in their neighborhoods or in those who look
like them?
I was born and raised in St. Louis, a town that has topped the "most dangerous" list of cities because of its homicides for at least the past 10 years. I lived in poor neighborhoods and was educated in public schools. Times were hard back then but at least there was this sense of community. Elders and neighbors could scold kids publicly because they knew their parents. Preachers and teachers lived in the same neighborhoods. The kids hung out at neighborhood rec centers where adults served as coaches and mentors. There were a number of small black-owned businesses where we could at least see how adults made money. Sometimes we made a little summer-time change doing various odd jobs for the business owners. Those things seem to be missing in low-income black neighborhoods today. Kids today are on their own.
Back in 2004, when
I worked for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, I wrote a column in response to numerous articles about fighting and violence
at Vashon, a black high school in downtown St. Louis.
My heart beat rapidly after that mere 25 minute
walk. I couldn't wait to get to my car and drive to safety. It's a luxury Vashon's
students don't have.
Psychologically-scarring images that kids see in their neighborhoods every day were evident during that walk. For me, it spoke to the generational realities that keep minorities unemployed, impoverished, imprisoned and among those disproportionately sent to morgues. What I saw was a mokery of the s ocietal pro gress the civil rights movement was supposed to accelerate.
There
was a socioeconomic aftereffect in the era of integration that has had a
long-term negative impact on minority neighborhoods. Blacks en masse abandoned
their neighborhoods, businesses and schools in search of nicer homes, equal employment
and better education promised if they were allowed access to privileges
afforded whites.
The
sad epilogue of integration is a tale of "white flight" to mostly all-white
suburbs; segregated, under-funded public schools and unbalanced minority high
school dropout rates and poverty and crime in neighborhoods that resemble Third
World war zones.
Integration
was and is a laudable goal but the application was flawed and devastating. Gone were teachers
who lived in the same area as their students. Mom & pop stores, black owned
restaurants, hotels, grocers and other businesses that catered to a demographic
denied access to white-owned establishments all but disappeared. Gone, too, were examples of legal,
in-the-hood commerce, middle class black families and the sanctity of "community."
Wholesale
abandonment of black communities nationwide was too big a price to pay for the long-denied
rewards of living and working amongst white people. It seems to me that the
only redress is a collective return to these areas. I'm not just talking about bodies
coming back to these communities nor am I talking about black folk exclusively. I'm speaking of a return of hearts, minds, passions and a collective effort to reestablish independent schools,
businesses and organizations aimed at bringing stability back to deserted
urban areas.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
2
2
1
