by pepsified thinker » Sun Mar 15, 2009 6:59 pm
Funny story--
when my first teaching job was in a charter school (so not Detroit Public schools) in Detroit, near Fort Street and Scheaffer (sp?), so the 'Southwest Detroit' area.
The neigborhood was interesting: some houses immaculately kept up, with with the trunks of trees painted white, and curb and decorative rocks, too.
And the houses had neat lawns and nice aluminum awnings and so on.
Except, that would be one block, and the next block would have a crack house in it. Or Across the street there'd be the kind of run-down, weed choked look that some of the pictures of houses here convey.
But to me, charged with idealism about going in 'to help' somehow in the role of a teacher in an area that thirsted for a fresh start with it's schools, the blasted look was a sign of the potential to get in cheap and turn things around--be part of the solution, etc.
And somehow, the prices of the houses got into my awareness and that REALLY got me thinking, cuz they were in the 30k range, and compared to my home town, that's a REALLY cheap price.
I had a scenario of being the white family in the neighborhood, and getting to know folks and having a learning experience and my kids (at that time only one, but...) having a chance to be more aware of the non-white world, and so on, and that all seemed good. I figured we'd be showing support to the folks there who had their kids in the school, too, as opposed to commuting in from the white suburbs, etc.
So I called a realtor--there was a particular house with a sign out front that caught my eye.
But he didn't exactly welcome my interest. He was kind and gentle, but let me know that houses in that area tended to be sold within families and groups of friends--so the one I wanted to know about, with the sign out front, wasn't really available (to me).
Looking back on it, after I'd learned a bit more about such things, I assume that interaction was me being redlined OUT.
Maybe there was some sort of legitimate reason--maybe he 'read' me through the phone line and knew what it would be like for me to move into a neighborhood in the middle of an urban war zone (kids came to school telling me about the body that had been found near their house, and car pooling in--two white guys in a car on a side street in the early morning hours, we'd get followed by vans that would tailgate us and flash their lights, I assume taking us for 'customers' for drugs or women or...). So maybe wisdom guided the kindly older realtor guy in turning me away.
And being on my side of the 'redline' divide, I had opportunities not then available to folks on the other side.
--so no biggie.
sorry for the drawn-out version, but I thought that story might be of use if you're coming at these Detroit houses with the same outlook as I had.
People move out of Detroit, if they can. It takes a sort of missionary-like outlook to go to live there. I had my eyes opened in a big way in the course of working there for a year+. I learned an awful lot about the need for uplift there and the forces pushing 'down' there--but I also learned I wouldn't want to raise my kids there. I love my good public libraries and parks here and schools too (if I do say so). And my kids haven't ever come home telling stories about dead bodies found near their homes or schools.
"we must cultivate our garden"
--Voltaire
, but also a place I love. Its the epitome of racial divide, and all the hyperbole that comes with it. My african-american girlfriend and I have a term we use called 'ghetto-hicks' to make light of the never-ending racial divide which is promoted by the press. (midwestern 'burb hicks vs ghetto hillbillies). its a place I hate and love.
