Driving

As I cross the state line I find myself on a street I've never driven before. It's pitch back and due to the late hour the traffic is light. I make my way in the direction I feel will take me home, looking for the interstate. To my right stretching for what seems like miles is a vast and eerie field of railway cars dotted with brilliantly lit cranes that in busier times are loading trucks. It's a modern marvel - an island dedicated to moving goods. As I continue forward increasingly fearful I'm headed in the wrong direction, the surroundings become more residential. Passing through intersections with street names I see in the paper associated with murders and robberies I move to lock my doors. The mechanical "click" adds some measure of security as the journey continues. The streetlights are few and far between; however, lights from gas stations and fried chicken joints increase my visibility. The neighborhoods off the main street are dark and neglected. You can almost feel the poverty and hopelessness in the air. The streets are not beautiful and nothing about the surroundings feels homey.

My anxiety subsides as the interstate becomes visible in the distance. I head east, towards my suburb. From the interstate I can see a nice hotel standing proudly. I'm glad it's still open, but saddened by the knowledge the surrounding area is severely blighted. Less than 15 minutes later my exit appears and I head up one of the cities main corridors. It's a part of town that has miraculously survived "white flight" and continues to thrive. A few minutes later I leave the city limits and enter my suburb. It's safe and quiet and I'm oddly relieved at the sight of a cop with flashing lights writing a speeding ticket. Meandering through the wide streets decorated for Christmas, past the boutique stores and library my street appears. I pull into my house which seems a world apart from the desolate place I saw 30 minutes earlier.

My city is poor. So many people are broken and hopeless and have no inkling of a greater world of opportunity existing. They are trapped in a cycle of poverty and lack the educational and financial resources to escape. To make matters worse, the opportunities for unskilled labor with decent pay are slim. Entire communities continue to struggle if not collapse. It's tragic.

I was born lucky. I must never take it for granted.