7 posts tagged “trenton”
A couple days ago a man who works for the Mercer County government was stabbed multiple times in the parking lot across the street from the Mercer County Administrative Building. He'll survive. He's already out of the hospital, actually. The building, unlike most city, county, state, and federal government buildings, is not located in downtown Trenton. It's located around the corner from my house. I can actually see it from my doorway. Take a look:
"One employee said he'd worked for the county for more than 20 years and
never heard of any problems at the lot, making the attack all the more surprising.
County officials said they have searched their records and not found any record
of violent crime at the site, though in the past two days a few employees have
reported past incidents officials had not known about."
This neighborhood of South Trenton is def not the most violent part of Trenton, in my opinion. Most Trentonians would concur. Still there was a shooting last week just outside a nightclub down the street from the Mercer County Administrative Building. Also, as you go deeper into South Trenton coming towards my house the neighborhood generally gets progressively poorer and more dangerous. I continue:
"I know two people who work with me who have had something said to them (by
strangers in the lot), as have I," one woman told Sheriff Kevin Larkin during the
information session. "After 5 p.m., it's another world."
Another world? Really? Mind you, at 5 p.m. for much of the year it's not even dark yet. Even if it was I could never categorize it as "another world." Perhaps another world from the more idyllic suburbs many government workers who work in Trenton live in. Perhaps. Also, note the fact that both the county executive (essentially the mayor of this county which includes Trenton, Princeton [yes, where the University is], and office buildings or headquarters for various major firms ranging from Merrill Lynch to Bristol Myers-Squibb to Johnson & Johnson) and the county sheriff. The big dogs. One more:
"One employee asked whether the county offices could be relocated outside of
Trenton. Larkin said he believed they could not because Trenton is the county seat."
Very disappointing that that proposal is even part of the conversation. Very. Places with comparatively high levels of concentrated poverty and low-quality educational systems where violence is more culturally accepted as inevitable usually are...more violent. Want to fix it? Fix Trenton Public Schools. Hire more Trentonians for jobs in our biggest employment sector: government work. Respond intelligently, creatively, and effectively to crime in Trenton. Take a look at what the county government's response to this lone incident included:
* Placing a Mercer County sheriff vehicle in front of the parking lot.
* Patching up holes in a fence of the parking lot making it harder to access.
* Clearing brush along the back of the lot making it harder for intruders to get in or "lie in wait."
* Placement of NEW, DIGITAL CAMEREAS in the lot to replace older cameras that produced "grainy
images."
* Closure of a back entrance and pedestrian walkway to discourage pedestrians (note: mostly poor and
working class Trentonians of color) from walking through the lot.
* Potentially monitoring the use of the back entrance so people who aren't supposed to be in the lot
aren't in the lot.
* Issuance of pamphlets on personal safety to government employees.
* Issuance of HIGH-PITCHED MOBILE ALARM DEVICES to government employees.
* Reviewing conditions around the administrative building and addressing employee needs in an
adjacent building.
* Cleaning up the county-owned Millyard Park behind the administrative building (apparently, currently
government employees are scared to eat lunch in the tiny park because it has benches and a
fountain...some locals supposedly use the area as an "OUTDOOR SHOWER AND BATHROOM.")
* Assigning personnel from the sheriff's department and/or park rangers to monitor the park and having
more concerts in the park to encourage its "proper use."
Whew...did you get all that? Wonder what the response to the shooting down the street was? Oh right. NOTHING AT ALL.
My favorite part of the day is probably lunch. At Humphreys County High, teachers are on lunch duty if they have a class 5th period and I am one such teacher. I walk my 5th period world history class down to the lunchroom and chat with them in an informal manner. It's allowed me to become more open and personal with my students since I'm not in front of the classroom talking or giving them assignments or telling them to be quiet/pay attention. I try to be cognizant of the fact that I'm not a high school student anymore and, to some degree, it's not cool to be seen holding on long conversations with the teacher. Still, inevitably certain students seem to come around me on those occasions when I do actually relax for a moment and sit down as oppose to watching over my students like a hawk. I also tend to gravitate towards certain students that are more prone to conversation, but I try to chat with each clique of students in my class on sort of rotating basis.
I've done a lot of reminiscing in that lunchroom of ours. I often think back to when I was in high school and what my lunchroom was like at Trenton High. It was big. It was sometimes chaotic. There were four options for food daily: the cold lunch line (cold cuts...a turkey hoagie was usually my staple), the hot lunch line ("beef" and "pork," mostly), the snack line (for butterscotch krumpets, juice, and the like), and the Tornado Express (for pizza, buffalo wings, etc.). It's not like this at Humphreys County High. There's one main line for food and then there's a slushy/dessert station. I wish that my students could see what my high school was like and get a sense of life in a "big" city. My cafeteria at Trenton High was probably four times the size of the cafeteria at Humphreys County High but it's all good. Like my high school, some students focus on the task at hand of eating. Others would rather walk around and socialize and eat when they get home. Others try to push/poke/provoke every member of the opposite sex that they know for attention. It's strange. Still, it's the one time where Mr.Amutah let's the tie loosen a little bit (figuratively, of course...hehehe) and allllmost let's kids slide with calling him "Mr.A."
an apparent suicide by hanging at the park in my neighborhood in Trenton, New Jersey. Wow.
If you'll scroll down a bit on this wonderful blog that I've set up you'll find a post that I put up a few days ago about the homicides in Jackson thus far this year. There have been about 36 and the graphic from the Clarion-Ledger along with this article identifies the location of each along with the victim. Jackson is considered a really dangerous city not only because of its murders (which are frequent enough to scare most middle-class or wealthier residents into northeast Jackson/Fondren/Belhaven--a particular corner of Mississippi's capital thus concentrating middle-class folk who are ripe for the picking) but for its armed robberies--thus the nickname "Jack-town".
Still, I often look home to Trenton, New Jersey and find a similar situation. With three and a half months left to go in 2007, Trenton is looking like it's at least going to surpass last year's total of 21 murders. We have 18 right now. The total probably won't reach 2005's all-time high of 31 though. That's a good thing. While all of this is happening, our mayor is posing in $2,500 worth of luxury threads in Esquire magazine and talking about how his greatest triumph as mayor was changing the police department. To what? More middle-aged, White, non-residents incapable of protecting Trenton's most at-risk (of death) population--young, Black/Latino males? I check up on Trenton news every day and I often see this. Another one bites the dust. On the same infamous street that is home to my mother's job, my elementary school, City Hall, from the State Capitol building where New Jersey's governor works. All located on East State Street where a blood-stained sidewalk and spent shell casings mark another 18 year-old Black male's encounter with his maker. Same poop, different toilet from Jack-town or even Belzoni where, even with only one or two murders per year, its murder rate would make it one of the most dangerous cities in the nation if it had a larger population and was considered more significant. The "alleged" trigger man in one of those murders in my small town is supposed to be in either my 6th period world history class or my 7th period world geography class. I don't recall. He hasn't come to my class yet this school year. He probably has other things on his mind these days....
My students are getting to know me better and I've had to answer the tough and inevitable questions of, "how long are you here for?" and "when are you leaving?" It's tough because on the one hand I don't just want to say I'm here for two years and then I'm definitely leaving and contributing to the high teacher turnover rate and critical need for teachers in Mississippi in general and in the Delta in particular. On the other hand, I want to be honest with them and let them know that my family/future plans/heart lie in Trenton, New Jersey. I sometimes remind my students that my district was "worse" than theirs when I was in school. My high school was the worst in the state my senior year. I entered high school with myriad male friends from my neighborhood and other parts of Trenton though graduated with only a few. Many only came to school because it was something to do and they knew that a lot of girl would be there. Many sold drugs while we were in school, in front of the school, or on our way home and in our neighborhood. Many dropped out of school altogether when drug money started really rolling in and they decided they'd rather come to school with anal cavities full of crack-cocaine than backpacks full of books. Some were killed in the streets as teens. Others were incarcerated. Some are still locked up today. All regret the decisions they made while they were in high school.
So for me it's tough remaining in Mississippi when the present-day realities of Trenton are a constant reminder of where I "should" be. Think globally, act locally meaning maintain an understanding of world problems though counteract them in your own community. I should practice what I preach.
Everyday I read the local newspaper for my hometown in Jersey online here. It's kinda strange. Growing up in Trenton I never had a strong sense of city pride. I just thought my city was, to some degree, like any other city in the country. Working class, relatively diverse racially (especially as far as New Jersey cities and suburbs go), crappy public schools, and a downtown shopping area. Normal, right? It wasn't until I left Trenton and went off to college that I realized my city was not normal by any means. For one, Trenton is not all working class. There are actually a few wealthier sections of Trenton including a very upscale neighborhood on the westside of Trenton called Hiltonia that I barely new existed for my 18 years there. Having grown up in a neighborhood where almost every house looks like this I had no idea Trenton had neighborhoods filled with houses that look like this Oh, class segregation.... I also came to find out that although my city was fairly racially diverse (about 50% Black, 30% White, and 20% Latino [of any race]), the public schools were not. Somehow, my high school was 97% Black and Latino. Where'd that 30% of White people go? Speaking of public schools, I found out that not only did Trenton have one of the worst school districts in the state (giving districts like Camden and Irvington a run for the title of worst) but the school year that I graduated (2002-2003) my high school was probably THE worst school in the state. Period. It was something like 1, 1, and 3 in terms of having the highest suspension rates, lowest attendance rates, and highest dropout rates of any public high school in New Jersey. What's more, something like three of the six schools in the state labeled through No Child Left Behind as being "persistently dangerous" were in Trenton. One of which was my high school. Another was my middle school. But I digress....
Strangely, I also had to leave Trenton to realize that I have a big bone to pick with the local media there. When I graduated from high school as I talked about in a previous blog post, I really wanted to help debunk the myth of Trenton teenagers (especially its young, Black males) being violent, stupid, dope-selling brutes destined for the criminal justice system, teen parenthood, or the grave at an all-too young age. A big part of this was the interview in the Trenton Times, my city's leading local paper. Despite the positive and rare shine given to Trentonians through that wonderful article, much more often the local newspapers look something like this where three of the top five local news stories on Trenton are about shootings. In all actuality, these pieces would more aptly be called blurbs than articles as a number of them are under 100 words and say little beyond who was shot, where, and what happened to the victim (i.e. whether the victim was killed or taken to hospital X and treated). They serve little purpose beyond scaring the public, which of course influences White/middle-class/Black flight from Trenton and is a large part of why our city's population has consistently been on the decline in the past few decades. Now, one of our former suburbs (Hamilton) is actually more populous than Trenton. What kinda stuff is that? Anyway, articles like these really piss me off as they only seem to serve a negative purpose and never get into deeper issues of inner-city violence such as the connection between it and (duh) poverty...physically dilapidated (and thus psychologically deflating) neighborhoods... pedagogically oppressive public school instruction...almost non-existent green space (I swear I feel like the area around Campus Walk Apartments has more green space than all of Trenton)...underfunded or out-of-touch job training programs...etc. Yes, I will blame everything except the people committing crime themselves because I don't buy into the conservative bull crap about every individual being their own conscious actor despite their environment, so-to-speak. People in sad, seemingly hopeless environments often end up doing sad, seemingly hopeless things. There are exceptions and some people just enjoy doing violent, reckless stuff but they're few and far between.
My favorite television show is The Wire and I continue to see glaring similarities between Baltimore and Trenton. This upcoming fifth and final season of the show, the focus will be on the local media (mainly the fictional counterpart of the Baltimore Sun) and the politics and interests behind which stories are sought, covered, published, and why. I eagerly await the commencement of this season because I am also seeing the aforementioned similarities between Baltimore and Trenton manifested in the city that will be my home for the next two years: Jackson, Mississippi (aka "Jack-town"...denizen for armed robbery). What you have is a majority Black, working class inner-city with a large open-air drug market, infamously poor public schools, and a local media system all too eager to highlight these problems devoid of their historical and present-day causes or, more importantly, prospective solutions. The urban population is running to the 'burbs and, in turn, the suburban population is attempting to return to the city by scooping up low-cost real estate closer to what is often the city they work in during the day but scramble to not be caught dead in (no pun intended) at night. What ends up happening is crazy things like this where, as NPR reports, for the first time more poor people live in the suburbs than in the cities. Funny...perhaps Trenton is not so different after all.
This was written journal style my first night in Oxford, this past Monday (June 4). Just wanted to offer some background into what's brought me here:
As I sit in my new apartment at the University of Mississippi, I find time to reflect on what has brought me to this remote locale in Oxford, Mississippi to begin what may be the most difficult experience of my life three days before my graduation from Harvard University.
At some point in my upbringing I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I think I was first bit by the teaching bug when I was nine or ten years-old and a student at Patton Joseph Hill Elementary School in Trenton, New Jersey locally known simply as “P.J. Hill.” It was here at a school where bullet holes pierced what should have been safe windows and pre-teen students fought administrators for the lucrative bounty of one dollar that I realized that I would prefer a career in teaching to any other. This was a fleeting thought, however, and between elementary school and college I went through a broad range of careers. Like many inner-city youth, I soon wanted to be a professional basketball player. From that I went on to focusing on becoming a rapper. Through my interest in rap and the music business I developed an interest in entertainment law, largely because around the age of 16 I learned that the top entertainment lawyers in the U.S. made $800 an hour—which would come out to $40,000 a week for a fifty-hour work week. My career was set. I went to Harvard with this career focus in mind.
While at Harvard, I took a few steps towards entering the music business after graduation from college. I went through the “comp”[1] for a spot on the staff of our campus radio station, WHRB, and by the second semester of my sophomore year I was a member of the radio station’s studio engineering department as well as its Black Urban Contemporary (BUC) department spinning rap, dancehall, and R&B from 3-5 a.m. Sunday mornings. I had established contacts in the rap publication industry through my girlfriend and hoped to work during the summer after freshman year for a record company or rap publication in New York City.[2] I also joined up with the nascent student-run record label at Harvard, Veritas Records, named after our Latin motto ve ri tas meaning "truth." I thought that I was firmly on my way to doing everything I needed to do to have a successful career in the music business and I was not altogether wrong.
Due to what was then a side interest in civil rights issues and Black history, I applied for a spot on an Alternative Spring Break (ASB) trip to when I was a freshman. I had never been to the “Deep South” and was excited when I was accepted as one of eight students to go. We had two great chaperones on the trip. One was Gene Corbin, the Executive Director of the Phillips Brooks House Association, a student-run social service and social action organization at Harvard with nearly 80 programs and thousands of student volunteers. Gene used to run a non-profit in Jackson, that we volunteered at while we were in Jackson that week. The other was Claudia Highbaugh, the Chaplain of the Harvard Divinity School who had family from Jackson and a sublime understanding of civil rights history and its relationship to churches; not to mention a much-needed maternal and supportive nature. While we were in Mississippi we did everything from meet Constance Slaughter-Harvey, the first Black woman admitted to the University of Mississippi’s Law School, to visit Philadelphia, Mississippi, site of the infamous 1964 kidnappings and murders of three civil rights workers historically referred to collectively by their last name--Cheney, Goodman, and Schwerner. Our conversations with various civil rights leaders and visits to various civil rights landmarks left an indelible mark on me.
On one such occasion and trip, we met with Hollis Watkins who was an organizer for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in the 1960s. On the wall of Mr. Waktins’ office were two posters that showed a map of Mississippi by county. One poster showed each county in Mississippi’s racial makeup. The other poster showed how much funding for public education each county in received. The stark racial disparities were shocking. The counties that were more heavily Black invariably received less funding than the counties that were mostly White. It was not until then that I realized that public education and its problems were not only a New Jersey issue between Abbott Districts[3] and more affluent suburban ones—it was a national and even international issue that kept particular races and classes in subjugated states. This revelation’s impact on me cannot be overstated. The education bug once again sunk its teeth into me and this time it was there to stay. I came back to Harvard, changed my concentration (major) from English and American Literature and Languages to African and African American Studies and Government, changed my summer plans from gaining a job in the music industry to working with an educational and recreational PBHA summer program in inner-city Boston, and changed my career focus from entertainment law to urban public education.
Thus, this is an abbreviated breakdown of why I am here now. This is why I am avoiding the immense paychecks and signing bonuses of many of my peers and friends at Harvard. This is why I am missing the last three days of my college career including my class of 2007 photo, an award ceremony and banquet for my academic department, and a Class Day speech by former U.S. President Bill Clinton. This is why I got chills today when I walked into Holly Springs High School in Holly Springs, Mississippi—the site of the Mississippi Teacher Corps’ summer school where I will get my teaching practice before becoming a teacher in Jackson’s public school system in early August. I have come to Mississippi to address the intellectual, emotional, and—if necessary—material needs of people that I care about and love deeply though I have never met. Human beings that, due to their life’s circumstances, are growing up in social and economic situations I feel mirror my own. I am in Mississippi to bring positive and radical social change to the world. But first, I have to put up my shower curtains….
[1] A term used at Harvard College that is short for “competition” but essentially means a screening process whereby students interested in becoming a part of a particular student organization go through a variety of trainings and tests to gain entrance.
[2] Funnily enough, the man who I wanted to work with was the publisher of XXL—the main rival to The Source magazine which was founded at Harvard by a Harvard student who, even more coincidentally, also co-founded what became the BUC department at WHRB.
[3] An Abbott District in New Jersey is an inner-city, often majority Black and poor/working class district subject to supplemental state aid for their public educational systems per the Comprehensive Education Improvement and Financing Act of 1996 (CEIFA) that came years after court decisions in New Jersey regarding Abbott v. Burke.