Living in a town that was split by the railroad from the beginning to establish “right and wrong” sides of tracks to live on, I am constantly amazed at the diversity of cultures displayed. The “north side” was the original town where you know find the downtown businesses and post office while the “south side” was farm land with a section set aside for minorities. Time has switched the sides of the tracks and now you find most of the affluence residing on the south side and the bulk of the underprivileged live on the north side with the exception of “The Hill” where another surge of affluence has began to build to the northeast.
I live on the north side. If you cross the street to the south you will enter the historical district, complete with grand old homes from the past that are beautiful in architecture and graceful lines, replete with wrap around porches. If you walk down my street to the north you will be entering neighborhoods where bullets tend to enter into domiciles uninvited on a semi-regular basis (Yes I know there is probably never a bullet that enters a house from the street that was actually invited…). These are the neighborhoods where you are forced to creep through throngs of wannabe gangbangers who are obviously paying homage to the god of bling-bling and haven’t learned which way the bill of a cap is supposed to point. You will also find hoards of young Latino males congregating in the middle of the street to demonstrate their abilities at hand flopping, sagging, and strutting.
Yesterday, an unusually warm day, the neighborhood moved from inside the house to the driveway where friends gathered around 30 packs set on the back of pickup truck tailgates to watch someone else wash their truck. Who knew washing vehicles was such a spectator sport? Hmm, maybe with the sun and the suds anything is worth watching.
Driving over to the south side I found people cleaning yards, working on houses, or washing their cars without the benefit of an audience and utilizing only one can of brew. The stark contrast between the two cultures is easily seen and I have to wonder why?
Is it the power of the mythological line that separates the town? Or is it because there is a line that isn’t geographical, but social in its construction? I think most of us would guess the line is social, based on either ethnicity or economics. Having watch more than my share of children of all ages and all races emulate gang talk, gang signs, and gang bravado, I would go with the line being a social economic one.
The middle class child is raised with the belief of education being available and expected. For them opportunity is a long ranged forecast complete with support from family generally in the form of financial. They don’t think of just high school diplomas and a bachelors, they think Masters and Doctorates. The poverty infused child sees education as only an option for the rich or the athlete. Opportunity is a short ranged forecast that is primarily spontaneous and serendipitous. For them family support is found in an uncle or aunt finding them a spot at their place of work and a high school education is good enough for everyone.
I would love to ease my social conscience by taking the big eraser of justice and rubbing out that social economic line but the longer you live walking in the conflict of these two cultures the more you realize an eraser is probably not going to get the job done. No, I fear we need to replace the whole piece of parchment that has been stained with the historical ink of culture and prejudice from previous generations. That my friend takes courage, vision, and faith… which appears to be in short supply.
