prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2003-10-29 - 4:16 p.m.
Last Friday, a 17 year old boy was shot and killed, half a block from my house,in a random drive by shooting. It turns out that the gunmen had driven up from Washington D.C. intent on robbing drug dealers here in Syracuse and had gone on a rampage firing off a round of bullets into a house filled with children. Needless to say, there are alot of things about this crime, that really upset me, not the least of which is, the close proximity to my house. Let me explain, by telling you that The corner of my street, meets with a main street, where several tenament buildings are housed. Drugs are sold openly, crime is rampant, and there have been 6 murders, in this area, since Jan 1, 2003.
All of the murdered victims, have been African American Males, two have been under the age of 18!!! This is such a TRAGEDY, and noone with a voice that can be heard seems to be properly outraged !!!!
The 17 year old that was just killed, was shot at, as he exited a barber shop. He immediately ran, in total terror, his body pumping with adrenalin, racing back towards the projects and eventually collapsing in a crumpled heap outside one of the buildings. This happened at 3:45 in the afternoon. in broad daylight.
Tragically, he was D.O.A. by the time, he was transported to the hospital.
As a matter, of little incident, I walk my dog, every day. He is a big fluffy frou-frou looking Standard white poodle, replete with sissy hair cut, and has even been known to sport coloured ribbons coresponding to seasonal holidays.
The Street that I live on, is fairly middle working class , with lovely victorian homes. Most of the houses are at least eighty years old, and have quaint touches, like large white columned porches and original stained glass inserts. The majority of the home owners are white, but there are some Latinos and Univ Students, and African American Families thrown into the mix. Most everyone in the more privliged side of the neighborhood drives big S.U.V.'s and has little worry about where there next meal is coming from.
But, when I walk my dog, sometimes, we head towards the projects. Past all of the lovely white bread houses, down the hill, to the rambling houses falling off of there ~about to be condemned~ foundations. The houses shudder and pulse with lots of screaming, happy children, in the midst of animated childs play. When they see me approaching, with my dog, hey always come running from every direction, like I am the ice cream man. The younger ones, usually are squealing with uncontainable delight, as they tumble down the hill, trying to catch up with the bigger kids. En masse, they surround me and startle my delicate grand chien, asking to pet him and occasional they ask if they can ride him, like he is some kind of urban pony. They are in wonder of his beauty. And love to feel his fur, which is fuzzy and resembles lambs wool. I always ask the children their names, and make small talk with them. and then, as I take my leave, i invariably promise to stop by, another day.
My heart aches for there beautiful soulful faces, each one more stunning than the next, with there dark espresso eyes, and loud beaming voices. They seem so happy, chasing one another around, in there make believe games. I look at them, and see so much promise, I see Lawyers and Dr's and Teachers and Scientists and future zooologists. They are the whole of our world, the hope of so many dreams.
and then I round the next corner, where many of there older brothers and sisters can be found. They spent most every day, killing time, by hanging out front of the local bodega,ironically blocking the "no loitering" sign with there many numbers. Sneakers hang from the wires, drugs of every kind are available for drive up service. Where there are boys, the girls are not hard to find. They stand in a circle, near the gangs of muscular young men, with the baggy pants and bandanas. Most of the teenage girls are pushing baby carriages with little rag doll infants, strapped in place.
In the instant that we look at one another, opinions are exchanged. Generalizations are made, on both sides. I live half a block from them, but it might as well be a thousand miles. I am white, and in there eyes, privliged. How can they know, that I am , single,pregnant, and currently unemployed, and incomeless. Last winter, my car was broken into and my gucci purse was stolen. All the windows were smashed and I had to pay alot of money to have them repaired, as well as, absorb the loss of a $5oo purse. The person who broke into my car, probably assumed that I was "rich" and could afford to lose the purse and pay for the windows and I assumed that they were corrupt, and strung out and looking for money to buy drugs. These assumptions are based on variations of truths and half truths to some degree.Luckily for me, at that time, I did have the money to get my car fixed, although, today I don't have any money at all, to spare. But, shame ON Me, for being so shallow, as to have such a ridiculously expensive purse. Perhaps the person who stole my purse, was looking for money to buy diapers for their baby. but most likely, it was about drugs. everything that happens in this neighborhood, seems to involve drugs.
I guess my point is, I can't believe that a half a block from my house, people are dying in the gutter, like in Israel and Palestine. I walk these same streets, and can feel my whiteness proceding me, and I don't like how different it makes me feel. I do not want to be so seperated from my fellow human beings. I do not want an innocent 17 yr old to be gunned down in the streets like an animal. I wish there was more I could do, I absolutely hate feeling this helpless in the face of such pointless bloodshed.
Dear god, How many more of your children have to die, before the fat white cats on this street, even raise an eyebrow????
old starlight - new starbright
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