The two Baltimores
June 30, 2008
While walking up Saratoga Street last week, returning to our newsroom after grabbing a cold drink, I came across the polar realities of what I like to think of as the two Baltimores.
On my side of the street, a hunched-over figure was zigzagging his way toward me. As I got closer, I could see his eyes were barely cracked, his mouth hanging open. Having the unfortunate experience of almost losing two friends to heroin, I recognized the zombified state this man was in.
While sidestepping him as he almost fell into me, I couldn’t help but notice the streetscape on the other side of Saratoga. The usual smokers on the corner of St. Paul and Saratoga, chatting away with each other and on their cell phones. A jogger with her iPod on making her way past two businessmen in suits and ties, iced coffees in hand.
When I come face to face with the two worlds mentioned above and I think of the color scheme that plays out in some crumbling city schools, I wonder has this city made that much progress when it comes to desegregation and race relations? Are we sidestepping the racial fault lines that exist between us just as I sidestepped the drug addict stumbling down Saratoga?
No matter how many new high rises enter the bustling city skyline, and no matter how many new bioparks sprout up from the asphalt, the daily struggle for survival that some of the less fortunate go through will not go away despite those of us that are blinded by our own comforts. A life taken on Monroe Street should cause the same outcry that a life taken in Federal Hill or Canton would, regardless of race, gender or age.
Am I the only one who doesn’t think that’s always the case?
Francis Smith, Special Publications Assistant Editor
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Unfortunately, I’ve also had this experience many times walking through the city. One only need stand at the corner of Fayette & President St. on a weekday morning to see well-dressed businesspeople and public officials alongside the de-facto homeless shelter on the corner to make the same conclusion.
I think that in Baltimore, race definitely matters, but economics matters more. Ironically enough, the 40 minute drive from Woodlawn, Owings Mills, or Columbia represents an entirely new life prospect - the difference between good education or mediocre education, safe streets or the hazards of the drug trade, high expectations or low expectations.
As a young African-American, I often wonder where my life would have gone had my parents not had a college education, if they had not moved to a suburban community, or if I hadn’t had the educational or cultural opportunities that I did while growing up. I’m sure that somewhere there may be another 26-year-old man wondering how much of his suffering could have been alleviated if he’d only had those things as well.