All cities should be comprised of neighborhoods, rich and poor, intertwined block by block
Third in the US for crime rate per capita only to Memphis, TN and Oakland, CA (crime rates per capita in 2009), Baltimore is a stagnant if not a dying city, and has been for the last 30-40 years. Once topping the growth of New York City with its booming shipping industry thanks to its easy access to the harbor and industrial factories booming during the Industrial Revolution, Baltimore is now a city of boarded-up windows, broken glass on the sidewalks, and threads of yellow police tape, with a 20% unemployment rate and no end in sight.
One of my professors said it best: “Baltimore is schizophrenic”. Million-dollar historic row-homes sit just a block from boarded-up and abandoned ones; gorgeous mid-century buildings that once represented the height of architectural and engineering achievements are empty and graffitied, right in the heart of downtown, around the corner from city hall. Men and women loiter on the sidewalk outside of a caged-window deli, some dealing drugs, some buying, and some so high that they sit, slumped over on an overturned bucket with their eyes closed to life and the world, while inside, yuppies, hipsters, students, doctors, and lawyers buy fresh mozarella and proscuitto shipped straight from Italy for $15/lb. The change is sometimes so jarring, so unexpected, that I don’t believe it’s real. But I wouldn’t want to live in a city that was anything but schizophrenic.
The other day while walking to school, I witnessed an undercover drug bust. Two black Surburbans pulled up, lights flashing, and six men got out decked in bulletproof vests and ear pieces, and brandishing guns and walkie-talkies. Five minutes later, I was listening to a Harvard-educated law professor talk about what constitutes a contract.
Another time I was hurrying to catch the bus to yoga class, angry at myself for sleeping late and worried I wouldn’t be able to find a spot on the floor of the studio when I passed a homeless man in the street. As I passed him, he looked at me, made eye contact, smiled and said “Good morning,” and suddenly getting to yoga class wasn’t that big of a nuisance.
I catch the light rail to school most days and my fellow passengers come from all walks of life. I’ve overheard conversations about babies and food stamps and relatives and loved ones in jail. I was struck by how much I, a relatively sheltered woman from the suburbs of Virginia, shared in common with people who I had previously felt alienated from or even afraid of. A man lecturing his young companion about how “jobs disappear, money disappears, but education stays with you forever” could be the same speech my parents gave me at the dinner table later that night. Having neighborhoods of all classes so closely intertwined makes them confront each other in their daily lives, whether they want to or not, for better or for worse. There are no dividing lines like highways or bridges or rivers or fences. Neighborhoods rich, poor, middle-class, gay, families, students all butt up against each other like dominoes, cutting wide swaths across the city in no logical way.
There has been an ever-expanding gap between the rich/middle-class and the poor and destitute. With the extinguishing of factories and industrial mills, so went the large working-class base with nowhere to turn to. But guess who makes the laws of the land, who makes policies and enforces them? Those on the edge or barely hanging onto to society are barely given a voice or representation. I find it hard to believe that a Supreme Court justice or a Governor of a State who lives in one of the cushiest neighborhoods in the US, can possibly be able to formulate a rule that creates a just and fair society for ALL. I believe the best way to be an informed member of society is to learn from each other, to see what humanity is capable of, both good and bad.
I can’t say that I am a perfectly informed person of society, capable of understanding anyone, no matter their background or situation, but I can say that I am perfectly able and willing to try. I no longer see issues in crisp blacks and whites, and I no longer pass blanket judgments on people I see on the street. We must be willing to look at all issues squarely in the eye, while walking in the streets, riding on the light rail, or at the corner store. If we continue to build fences and subdivisions that keep who we have deemed “unwanted” out, then what kind of reality can we claim to really know?
This post nails it. Part of the problem of the widening gap between the rich and the poor – and the commensurate gap between fantasy and reality – in the US is that one group is so disconnected from the other.
Because of lobbyists, political financiers, and an upper-middle-class that is mired in the tunnel vision of its own cloistered suburbia, the policies that are now being advocated by the US Government and Republicans especially – tax breaks for the rich; cut welfare spending even in a recession; put more people in prison – continually serve to protect the rich and punish the poor.
Would it be different is Mr Rich had to live next door to Ms Destitute on an inner-city street?
Nice words Swang.If you haven’t read this, have a looksie. Related content. http://www.slate.com/id/2266025/entry/2266026
Thanks for the compliment, Chouse. The Slate article you linked to diagnoses what I think is the biggest problem with class inequality in the US. The author quotes Paul Krugman as saying, “the ordinary person is not really aware of how big it is.” I think to be anything but optimistic and still believe in the American dream is seen as unpatriotic. The US is a capitalistic society which encourages that viewpoint, but what some people don’t realize are that the policies and laws that are being advanced and lobbied for are being underwritten by people who aren’t thinking of “the ordinary person” in mind. It’s being stacked against the “ordinary person” and for that, I am most disappointed.