Do I Really Know Where I’ve Come From?

DISCLAIMER: This post is in no way intended to disrespect or discredit the city of Baltimore. This is my personal opinion upon my recent observations.

Today I walked through my city. Baltimore City. I’ve been raised in the city but as a child I had no idea of the perils that plague the streets.

As I walked down the long street I felt a sense of danger. Vacant homes. ‘Do not cross’ tape. Trash and debris. Police cars parked. Fire truck sirens sounding. Violence was in the air. People stared as my brother and I passed by. I can’t even begin to describe the look on some of the young men’s faces toward my brother. A young, African-American male finding his way of success in a land that some say has no hope. I wish I could read their minds. What could possibly make them glare at him? I could only wonder.

As we continued I started to pray. However, feeling overwhelmed I didn’t know what to pray. Should I have prayed for peace? Or unity? Then the topic of elected officials came to my mind. Where were they? Where were those in charge of protecting our city and presenting better opportunities to us?

I thought about our lack of resources and programs to keep the youth and adults off of the streets. Granted, there are some amazing programs and non-profits working here to change that. However, there are not enough. Where are those who promised resolution and good results during our national spotlight throughout the riots and protests?

I reminisce of when my siblings and I were younger. We had many great opportunities. I remember programs that brought people together. Regardless of our hardships, Mom and Dad always found community outreaches and fun events to enroll us in.

I refuse to say that this is the end for Baltimore. After all, when you reach rock-bottom the only direction left to go is up.

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