Newly sensitized

Growing up in Chicago there are things that I just took for granted. I could walk to school or the neighborhood grocery store. There were kids playing outside. I could take the bus anywhere I wanted. And someone always got killed. No big deal...it just happens.

Now you may think it insensitive for me to make that comment about death. But it was the way of the neighborhood and happened so often that I was insensitive. It wasn't a matter of "if" someone would be killed, more like "when". Domestic violence and gang retaliations were normal. Abnormal were the pleasure kills like when my brother was killed or even accidental "gun goes off while cleaning".

But when I finally left the neighborhood I was left with the permanent insensitivity scar. Of course I was sad to hear when someone else was killed but it seemed to be more of a human reaction. A "oh that's a shame" comment followed by the thought of "it happens". I hated being that way. I knew what was happening was wrong. WAY WRONG. But I couldn't feel it. I could feel the sadness followed by a sense that there's nothing that could be done about it so why bother feeling for it. And so it was for 20 years.

Until today. My sister called excitedly to tell me she had gossip. The neighbor shot another neighbor. As I struggled to wake up I heard her excitedly recount the details. Through the grogginess I heard something about the "really great neighbor guy" "three little kids and pretty wife" arguing with the "gangbanger family next door" "always makes crude comments to women walking by". How she heard the voices escalating and followed by a gunshot. She thought nothing of it and kept getting ready for work. Even when the police cars came she looked out the window, figured out what happened and went back to her morning routine. And when she said "good! let that be a lesson to the other gangbangers living in that house" I woke up.

I said I agreed with that but that's not the law of the neighborhood. What's going to happen now is that the good guy will sit in jail. His three kids and pretty wife are alone next to a household of very angry gangbangers who know one thing; eye for an eye. After all, it's not a matter of "if" but "when".

And the injustice "sucker-punched" me for the first time since my brother died. This IS wrong. This 'good guy' had complained to the police, had asked the neighbors to sign petitions, had tried to do everything right. But he will rot in jail. His family will pay the price. The gangbangers will be glorified by their peers when they take vengeance. The cops will turn the other way because they can't do anything. Honestly, that's what one told me before when I asked for help. "Just move, we can't do anything". Nice.

And now I'm awake. And feel like puking. Feel so much hatred and anger......and sadness. For the good guy. So this is what it must feel like to care...to really care about the conditions in the neighborhood.

It's wrong. And I refuse to believe nothing can be done about it. But what. WHAT!