Make It Right

This Saturday morning, we load up our cars and head back to Maryland, exhilarated to reunite with our children and grandchildren.  Many of them are residents of Baltimore.  Of course, they are unsettled but they are not residents of Sandtown, Freddie Gray’s neighborhood.

When I moved from Connecticut to Maryland, I worked as a real estate agent in the suburbs of Baltimore for a couple of years.  I don’t remember the circumstances, but somehow a young black couple from Baltimore wanted me to find them a home.  They were from Sandtown, determined to realize the American dream, even on their meager incomes.  And, so, began my education into Baltimore neighborhoods.

I wasn’t unfamiliar with urban neighborhoods.  I got schooled in that in Hartford.  My first house was a small single family in the North End for the whopping sum of $10,000.  This was the 70s, the era of urban renewal where middle class young folks came into decaying areas with the hopes of turning things around.  Long story short…that didn’t happen.  And, eventually, people like me with altruistic ideals got a taste of what it’s like to live where there’s no hope.

Drug dealing in the parks where your kids play.  Drunks urinating on your front lawn.  Some guy putting a weapon in your back because he thinks you have money.  Relying on your dog to keep you safe because there’s not much of a police presence.  Having bars installed on the first floor windows so you can sleep at night.

My first teaching assignment was in an urban high school, primarily black students along with a Puerto Rican minority and a handful of white students, whose parents were middle class urban pioneers.  Class size averaged around 40 students, but because so many students were truant, I never actually needed 40 desks.  No one was assigned a book….not enough to go around.  Way too many kids couldn’t read.

So, I read to them.  Their favorite?  Ethel Waters’ autobiography, His Eyes Are On the Sparrow, one of the greatest books ever written on the African American female’s experience.  They were mesmerized, most of them had never read books by black authors.  I’d write key words and sentences on the chalkboard to enhance their skills.

Once I took my social studies class on the bus to the courthouse for sentencing day.  Reality slapping us all in the face.  I hope in some way it helped.

I went to the most impoverished housing projects to talk with parents to try to get their kids back in school.  I was absolutely devastated when one of my favorite students was shot in the head in his own living room.  When I showed up at his funeral, his hysterical mother insisted I sit with the family.  His father was in jail.

Some of my students came to school reeking of alcohol.  And, even with security guards in the hallway, one student entered my room after school and slapped me across the face, knocking me back into a desk where I blacked out.  He didn’t like the grade I gave him on his report card.  So, I got police protection and he got expelled.

But, I will also tell you this.  So many of those kids loved doing debates and mock trials.  They wanted to be smart.  They wanted to overcome their circumstances.  I absolutely loved them and hated to think of their futures, so few of whom would not be sucked into a drug culture with the lure of quick, big, and easy money.
Eventually, I had to leave.  I couldn’t raise my children there and I didn’t have the money for private schools.  And, yes, I had the choice.

Maybe  Freddie Gray was one of those kids.  A bright kid with a hopeless future.  There are thousands of young men and women just like him, living in a neighborhood even the police don’t want any part of.

I get that the police have a lot of fear in those circumstances and have just seconds to react.  But, really, six policemen jumping on a 5 feet, 8 inch man who weighed 145 pounds.  And, now, no one knows what happened?!!?

Come on now.  It appears to be pretty obvious.  Baltimore, just come clean.  Be honest.  Don’t prolong this nightmare for his family and the people of Baltimore.  Take a page out of South Carolina’s book.  Yes, SOUTH CAROLINA!  Of course, a video capturing the entire beatdown would’ve helped.

This is an American tragedy.  The divided America.  A justice system unjust for our people who live in the most dire areas of our cities.  An education system that refuses to adequately fund the overwhelming needs of city schools.

I used to get so frustrated when I would hear teachers in the ‘burbs complain about their students or their teaching conditions.  I would think to myself, ‘you really need to go spend a week in the city.’

And, now, what would I give to have our politicians, who feel no pain when they cut back on recreational programs and schools that serve our neediest kids, swap their homes with the Sandtown residents for a year.  It’s so easy to dismiss people who are not like you.

It’s time to make it right.