New neighbors in the "Hood"
Brothers hanging out, since I can remember
From the first of the year, to the end of December
Ain't doing nothing, sure ain't got nothing to give
Cohabit women with poor vision, to live
Children not able, to avoid parents endless plight
Cause of no direction, a danger to self and most at night
Strange eyes, ride by observing, but not without doors locked
Single in numbers, cautious not to reveal the coming flock
Spending time watching, how confused most live
Future plans to take over, since potential looks nil

Growing up in Harlem in New York didn't stop me from going to other boroughs to hang out with my friends. Although I don't live there anymore, I still travel to those areas sometimes to see that many are no longer predominately black. And it is not difficult to understand why.

Instead of fighting for what they had, many packed up and left. Yet over a period of time, the new areas would become a copy of the old neighborhood. But those who could afford to continue moving all over the place fail to understand the same that there were other problems coming.

It was strange because those blacks seem to be willing to face racism and hatred, instead of finding a solution to the problems where they lived. Maybe if they were smart enough they would have known whites wouldn't deal with what was going on either. They would soon leave those neighborhoods as things got worse.

But problems that are more serious were coming. Such as black children learning nothing, being up rooted over and over again, and the so-called better teachers leaving also. Kids whose families couldn't get out were being prepared by the system, to be bused to schools everywhere. Most would learn nothing, probably worried, and being afraid.

The police in the new neighborhood, who once had to deal with very little, suddenly started to increase their officer-count and visibility. But they say it's not smart to look back at past situations, especially if they were bad. But if we could with sincerity, maybe we would see why it was important to stand up and fight to protect the things that we had.

They could also see why it was necessary to prevent anyone from walking into the neighborhoods taking it over, then calling them their own. Most of all, we would see how ridiculous it was to believe the only way to have a better life was to backdoor ourselves into white neighborhoods.

Yes, back door. We learned to do it that way after dealing with racism that was worse than anything thrown at us in Alabama and Mississippi. Yet today, in areas such as Harlem and parts of Brooklyn, that's going through a renovation, I've heard blacks say it's probably worth investing your money in those areas because whites are moving back.

Has time really changed things, or because of the new idea about the necessity of diversity, maybe some feel it makes no difference. Unfortunately, blacks with these convictions are those who wear the fake garb and display pictures of great black men and women on their walls to avoid being cross-examined about who they really are.

Some may have credentials and wealth, yet they may not have ever lived amongst their own people, or seen the sign of the blight still displayed on buildings covered with graffiti. Sometimes my heart cries out when I ride through the neighborhoods and see what seems like the same old guys standing on the corner.

Streets filled with garbage, children running around trying to make some sense of what they're doing. Obviously, it shows nothing has changed. But some of us believe it's a cool place, so let's called it the "Hood". But wouldn't an actual hood be more of an example of what the neighborhood should be. It may be that it's something to protect us.

But looking around, it's easy to see we never made an effort to take care of it, so it could continue taking care of us. We've discarded it for generations, not realizing it would eventually pay us back for not caring. We've let the great architecture of beautiful buildings and tree lined streets to deteriorate as we have allowed some of ourselves to also.

But looking back for a moment at the earlier transition of these areas from white to black, you would see a pride that has long disappeared. Parks and streets were filled with girls and boys jumping rope and playing stoopball. Sunday's most people would put on their Sunday clothes and fill the churches hoping and praying for a better day to come.

Most people had very little, but built into their character was a determination to survive the worse. Children without fathers always had father figures that expressed to them their concern about staying in school and doing the right thing. Funny times remind me of my friends getting angry with the old woman leaning on the pillow yelling out of the window because she thought we were doing enough wrong to tell our mothers.

But we really knew she was always involved in other people's business, so most people never listened to her anyway. Suddenly the soda truck pulls up and we scramble to the truck to ask the driver if he needed help, to earn a few quarters so our mothers could keep theirs to feed the rest of the family. The tough guys and criminals knew to stay away from so-called decent people.

Not happy, most people around the "Hood", told their kids to keep away from them anyway. In the back yards and darken hallways at night, criminal things were going on from day to day, but drugs was never seen, offered or displayed for us kids to see. The toughest, yet friendliest guy in the "Hood" was the number man, who took penny bets from those who respected him, hoping to win a few dollars to play more the next day.

A sudden breeze and the sound of the subway roaring below made you step off the grating, if you were a woman. A short distance away, some other boys are using a lock on the end of a string with grease, trying to get the lose change people dropped through the subway grating.

Jubilation rings out as one of them brings up a fifty-cent piece and wipes the grease off on his pants. The yellow cabs that refuses today to ride through the neighborhood and pick up people, stops at the curb and a woman with a cane gets out and walk to the stoop. She stands there for a moment, looks around and oddly, everyone nods hello, although she's known around the block as the matriarch to not deal with.

Near the corner, the neighborhood cop is talking to another group of boys who stopped him to talk about their future plans to become a policeman and fireman.

However, the weekend is over now, we kids are up Monday morning scrambling around to get ready for school. Hurrying out of the building, seeing the super washing down the stoop with a hose, we stop, knowing if we get wet, we have to go back upstairs to change clothes. Can't get our clothes wet because we know somebody's going to get a whipping.

On the way to school, the sidewalks are occupied on both sides of the street with kids yelling back and forth to each other. But the neighborhood truants and bullies seem to not look as tough as they usually do. After school, the smart kids made sure they did their homework, knowing it'll give them the edge to get out of the house early to play.

But regardless what time you're able to go outside, when the streetlights come on, it's time to go upstairs. Although this story is short and unfamiliar to some people, I tried to show from the memory of someone who lived it, some of the things that kept blacks together as a social group in the "Hood".

The real difference in these areas compared to now is today, blacks have more money that could make a difference. However, what exist in both times, neither was perfect. So it takes work and perseverance. There were things going on behind the doors where people lived.

But we're not privy to that, for we can only imagine or assume what they were. The most obvious thing we should observe in this story was no one was killed from a drive by shooter or intimidated by someone selling drugs in front of the building. These neighborhoods were no utopia. They had problems and many of them were serious enough to make the history books.

Hypothetically, it's unfortunate no one was able to take a picture of the complete spectrum of the area to see it from another prospective. If so, they would have seen its value for the future.

Million dollar buildings abandoned by prior owners that could have been refurbished and an opportunity to develop an infrastructure within the community without outside interference: control of the schools and educational system, monitoring of the crime and the criminals who commit them. Would these things be unique, or do they already exist in areas where people care more about their "Hood".

[Poem adapted from poems, "Looking at ourselves" by T. Duffy

© 2004 By Thomas Duffy
Afromerica staff writer

Brother Thomas Duffy will be keeping the Black community updated on the most current Black expereinces effecting our lives. Visit regularly for new information that could help you overcome and make the best of your everyday experiences.

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