The truth is I have a cousin that
was gunned down on a Chicago street corner another that was found dead. I have
two friends that were murdered face down on the ground execution style, another
was stabbed to death another was shot dead in his house. My father and brother
both spent extended time behind bars along with quite a few of my close friends
and family. You would think that this would be an uncommon occurrence for one
person who was born in Chicago right? Wrong!
The truth can be a hard pill to
swallow, it’s hard to look in the mirror and stare right into the eyes of the
problem. I’m talking about myself. I take the blame for the murder rate in Chicago
and around the country. It’s my fault, I could have done something, no
correction, I should be doing something. I am the one that sits in my house,
knowing what I know and having looked at what I have seen, and say oh how horrible
these kids dying every day yet, when the news goes off I go about my day as if
nothing has happened.
The truth is that I ignore the
problems that directly affect me. I pretend like they don’t but they do. My
image is perceived as cautionary, aggressive, and sometimes dangerous. When I
turn on the TV I see them mock me in commercials using my strengths to sell
their products and my weaknesses to steer you clear of the bad things. The
movies, they portrait me as the urban tough guy or the over top funny man. They
will pay me to run and jump but if I want to advance in the workplace I have to
assimilate to the company image. I am perceived to come from the “hood” and
live a “ghetto” life style. When people greet me they feel to need to say “wuz
up homie” and give me the knuckle bump instead of a hand shake. I accept this
image. In fact, I flaunt it.
The truth is I know several people
who are gang affiliated. I know several people who sell drugs. I know people
who have addiction problems. I just turn a blind eye, I see them on a regular basis
but I never address the elephant in the room. When less fortunate things happen
to them I place all of the blame on them. I go to church, but I only bring my immediate
family. Some people you just can’t help and I don’t like to waste my time. I
worked too hard to get where I am at to have to deal with someone else’s
problems. They should know better anyway.
The truth is if I say something
then others my view me as a “hater” or soft. I could be labeled a snitch o r sellout; I have enough problems of my own. The
truth is it’s just not worth it, no matter how many of my peers are gunned down
in their youth, no matter how many children die. The truth is I don’t have the
time, no matter how many young men are locked up in the system, no matter how
many children are left motherless and
fatherless. The truth is your drug addiction, whatever “set” you are claiming,
how many guns you tote, how many b**ches you have, how much weight you sell,
how big your rims are, how expensive your car and jewelry are does not apply to
me.
The truth is I will wait until the
problem affects me directly, then I will scream a battle cry and ask, why haven’t
we addressed the problem? When the things I take for granted are torn from my
hands, only then will I shout injustice. Until then the truth is I will do
nothing.
