Where are you from?
Where are you from? Do you love that place? I hope so; it seems good for a person to love his place of origin.
I am from the northwest side of Detroit. The first house I lived in was north of a neighborhood called Warrendale, and south of a neighborhood called Rosedale Park. My neighborhood didn't have a name; I just told people that I lived close to the big K-Mart on Plymouth Road. My parents owned our house, and the house directly across the street, where one of our relatives lived. Our backyard had two apple trees, two pine trees, a pear tree, a maple, and some other trees that I can't name. Rose bushes on the south side of the yard, ferns and sundry other plants (e.g. a yucca) on the north side, and a vegetable garden on the far east side. We grew tomatoes, peppers, and collard greens. We tried to grow watermelons one year, but that didn't turn out so well.
I think most of the people in my neighborhood owned their homes. One of my neighbors was a bus driver. The lady next to him worked in a nursing home. My next door neighbor worked at Ford Motor Company. One of the guys across the street was a Vietnam vet, and he told awesome stories about the Marine Corps. Another neighbor was a mechanic who worked out of the garage in his backyard. I had a relative around the corner who worked as management in a meat-packing plant. My mom was a manager at K-Mart Headquarters, and my dad worked for the City of Detroit in the Housing Department. At that time, city employees were required by law to reside within the city limits, so my parents never considered moving to the suburbs.
The vast majority of boys in our neighborhood played basketball. This was an important skill that garnered respect. Those who couldn't play well (like myself) were often ridiculed, especially if they claimed to have skills and actually didn't. Fortunately, my family owned the portable basketball rim that was used, and some of the best athletes were relatives of mine. It also helped that I never claimed to have any athletic prowess. Sometimes the Vietnam vet would play basketball with the kids. He had epilepsy, and one time he had a seizure in the middle of a basketball game.
When I was very small, I walked about six blocks to my elementary school. I watched Batman (with Adam West) every morning before school. The ending of each episode had me sitting on the edge of my seat wondering "How the hell will Batman get out of THIS one?" When Batman was over, it was time to start walking to school. On the way home, I had to walk past a house where a huge German Shepherd called "Magnum" lived. Magnum always barked, and I was always afraid he would jump the fence. I heard that one time, he actually did jump the fence, but I wasn't around that day.
My house faced west, so my front porch was great for watching sunsets. I remember watching butterflies fly around in the front yard; I hardly ever see them anymore, except for the boring little white ones. And I think those are moths. There was a squirrel that lived between my house and my next door neighbor's house. He had broken hind legs, and he was very unfriendly. I remember that it was difficult to fly a kite in my neighborhood because there were too many trees.
My father had a second job doing home improvement work. Sometimes he would take me with him when he did a job. Painting, window installation, roofing, or some other type of construction. I saw neighborhood after neighborhood after neighborhood. My dad pointed out houses that his uncle built after coming to Detroit in the 1920's. I saw buildings on the east side, the southwest side, the northwest side, ... you name a Detroit neighborhood, I've probably been there. And downtown was great. I was fascinated by the Penobscot Building with its big, red, blinking bulb on top. The Renaissance Center was so ... shiny!
When I moved to Ann Arbor for college, I met people from all over the world. Many of them would not even consider coming to the neighborhood that I described above. A lot of the white people seemed to feel this way. My classmates said things like "Oh my God ... is it ... SAFE?" Kids from the Detroit suburbs would often add fuel to the fire: "My parents grew up in Detroit, and their old neighborhood is NOTHING like it used to be! They've totally let the city go down the tubes." One time, my French instructor from Beirut belittled Detroit for being dangerous, and basically said she couldn't understand why anyone would ever want to go there.
Hey ... everybody is entitled to an opinion. It just never occured to me that someone from war-torn Beirut would feel at ease saying that Detroit was a shitty place. I guess it is for many people. That has not been my experience.
I am saddened by the struggles my community faces, and I never try to deceive people about what Detroiters have been facing for the past few decades. I just hate to see people make patently untrue statements about a place they've never experienced, discourage other people from experiencing it, and thus exacerbate the problems of Detroiters.
Yeah, yeah ... I know. You took the Ambassador Bridge from Windsor, and when you got to the Detroit side, it just looked AWFUL!!! Have you ever taken the tunnel? Take the tunnel next time, and you'll see another part of the city. Don't be afraid. We've even gotten over the fact that you drive an import ;)
For more information about my corner of the world, click this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosedale_Park%2C_Detroit
I am from the northwest side of Detroit. The first house I lived in was north of a neighborhood called Warrendale, and south of a neighborhood called Rosedale Park. My neighborhood didn't have a name; I just told people that I lived close to the big K-Mart on Plymouth Road. My parents owned our house, and the house directly across the street, where one of our relatives lived. Our backyard had two apple trees, two pine trees, a pear tree, a maple, and some other trees that I can't name. Rose bushes on the south side of the yard, ferns and sundry other plants (e.g. a yucca) on the north side, and a vegetable garden on the far east side. We grew tomatoes, peppers, and collard greens. We tried to grow watermelons one year, but that didn't turn out so well.
I think most of the people in my neighborhood owned their homes. One of my neighbors was a bus driver. The lady next to him worked in a nursing home. My next door neighbor worked at Ford Motor Company. One of the guys across the street was a Vietnam vet, and he told awesome stories about the Marine Corps. Another neighbor was a mechanic who worked out of the garage in his backyard. I had a relative around the corner who worked as management in a meat-packing plant. My mom was a manager at K-Mart Headquarters, and my dad worked for the City of Detroit in the Housing Department. At that time, city employees were required by law to reside within the city limits, so my parents never considered moving to the suburbs.
The vast majority of boys in our neighborhood played basketball. This was an important skill that garnered respect. Those who couldn't play well (like myself) were often ridiculed, especially if they claimed to have skills and actually didn't. Fortunately, my family owned the portable basketball rim that was used, and some of the best athletes were relatives of mine. It also helped that I never claimed to have any athletic prowess. Sometimes the Vietnam vet would play basketball with the kids. He had epilepsy, and one time he had a seizure in the middle of a basketball game.
When I was very small, I walked about six blocks to my elementary school. I watched Batman (with Adam West) every morning before school. The ending of each episode had me sitting on the edge of my seat wondering "How the hell will Batman get out of THIS one?" When Batman was over, it was time to start walking to school. On the way home, I had to walk past a house where a huge German Shepherd called "Magnum" lived. Magnum always barked, and I was always afraid he would jump the fence. I heard that one time, he actually did jump the fence, but I wasn't around that day.
My house faced west, so my front porch was great for watching sunsets. I remember watching butterflies fly around in the front yard; I hardly ever see them anymore, except for the boring little white ones. And I think those are moths. There was a squirrel that lived between my house and my next door neighbor's house. He had broken hind legs, and he was very unfriendly. I remember that it was difficult to fly a kite in my neighborhood because there were too many trees.
My father had a second job doing home improvement work. Sometimes he would take me with him when he did a job. Painting, window installation, roofing, or some other type of construction. I saw neighborhood after neighborhood after neighborhood. My dad pointed out houses that his uncle built after coming to Detroit in the 1920's. I saw buildings on the east side, the southwest side, the northwest side, ... you name a Detroit neighborhood, I've probably been there. And downtown was great. I was fascinated by the Penobscot Building with its big, red, blinking bulb on top. The Renaissance Center was so ... shiny!
When I moved to Ann Arbor for college, I met people from all over the world. Many of them would not even consider coming to the neighborhood that I described above. A lot of the white people seemed to feel this way. My classmates said things like "Oh my God ... is it ... SAFE?" Kids from the Detroit suburbs would often add fuel to the fire: "My parents grew up in Detroit, and their old neighborhood is NOTHING like it used to be! They've totally let the city go down the tubes." One time, my French instructor from Beirut belittled Detroit for being dangerous, and basically said she couldn't understand why anyone would ever want to go there.
Hey ... everybody is entitled to an opinion. It just never occured to me that someone from war-torn Beirut would feel at ease saying that Detroit was a shitty place. I guess it is for many people. That has not been my experience.
I am saddened by the struggles my community faces, and I never try to deceive people about what Detroiters have been facing for the past few decades. I just hate to see people make patently untrue statements about a place they've never experienced, discourage other people from experiencing it, and thus exacerbate the problems of Detroiters.
Yeah, yeah ... I know. You took the Ambassador Bridge from Windsor, and when you got to the Detroit side, it just looked AWFUL!!! Have you ever taken the tunnel? Take the tunnel next time, and you'll see another part of the city. Don't be afraid. We've even gotten over the fact that you drive an import ;)
For more information about my corner of the world, click this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosedale_Park%2C_Detroit
posted by Wordsmyth at
8:17 PM
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