Recently I stumbled upon a video journalism series put on by
the Chicago Tribune called Chicago Under
the Gun. Its gut-wrenching portrayal of the ever-present violent chaos on
Chicago’s South and West sides has been stuck with me ever since.
Between sobbing cries of mothers who have had their children
gunned down at the playground, to the angry rage of brothers of young men slain
for walking down the street, this video series is about more than just crime
statistics. It’s more than an emotionally disconnected report on the problem
areas of the city. It shows the reality of the pain, anger, and frustration
that entire communities of people face all too often, just for living where
they do.
And if you’ve got the stomach for it, you can find the full
series here: http://graphics.chicagotribune.com/under-the-gun/
Warning, there are
graphic images and explicit language.
For those of you who, like me, have to be careful to screen
what you watch because of the effects it can have on you (nightmares,
ruminating, feeling depressed, etc), I’ll lay out it all out here, in words.
Chicago has a long history of gun violence. Some of the
highest numbers of homicides come from the early 1970’s (970 homicides in
1974), and it has persistently been an issue. Last year, Chicago witnessed
another spike in homicides, 506 reported, the highest rate in the country last
year.
Many analysts are suggesting that 2012 was a fluke year,
that 2013 will not match that rate. As of August 12th murders are
down 26% from last year, and shootings are down 22% from last year. In fact,
the murder rate has not been this low since 1965. Indeed, according to redeyechicago.com, only 250
homicides have occurred so far this year as of August 11th, 2013.
But here’s the thing. Last weekend alone (August 9-11th)
from Friday night through Sunday night, 4 people were killed and 37 were
wounded in Chicago, most of them shot. Chicago had logged 15 homicides in the month of August as of August 11th.
To put that in perspective, only 21people had been killed in Minneapolis this year as of mid July. That’s only
6 more than were killed in Chicago in 11 days.
Now, I realize that none of this takes into account the size
of the cities, number of people, etc. In fact, if you’re measuring per capita, Chicago doesn’t even make the top 25 most dangerous cities. Statistically speaking, the odds of being murdered in Chicago are about a 1 in 6,250.
But, what happens if you narrow that down to Chicago’s West and
South sides as opposed to including the entire 227.3 square miles of the entire
Chicago area? Well, the odds of being shot while walking down the street are
closer to 3in 1,000 on the West Side of Chicago. And if you happen to be somehow
connected to a gang, be it by family or friend, or even friend of a friend,
your risk in some neighborhoods, like the West Side of Chicago, skyrockets to
an estimated 30 in 1,000 (read more here about using Social Networks to map crime).
Now clearly, violent homicide is a pervasive problem across
the U.S. and the world, not just in Chicago. And yes, there are many MANY factors
contributing to it. Poverty, disrupted family structure, poor education, lacking
community supports, insufficient health care, and lack of gun control to name a
few.
Yet somehow, despite knowing all of this, we often treat
these cases with a dangerous ambivalence. Somehow, there’s this idea that loss
of life of people from the “wrong neighborhood” means less than life lost in other
places – in places where “that kind of thing just doesn’t happen here.”
Somehow, we’ve gotten to a place of complacence. Where the death of a 6-month-old child who was shot and killed while her dad changed her diaper in the back of a car can be minimized to an explanation of
living on the rough side of town and having a criminal for a father.
But her dad’s grief is real, and in no way less traumatic than
the grief of any of the parents who suffered from the slayings of their
innocent children in Newtown, Connecticut.
So why do they sometimes feel so different? Why does it so
quickly come down to “being from the rough part of town,” rather than an
understanding that grief over lost innocence is as immeasurable there as the
grief of the families in Newtown? Is it the media? Is it about race? Poverty?
Social standing? Perception?
My sense is, it’s probably a little of all of the above.
I understand that making sense out of tragedy is part of the
process of grief. As humans we seek to compartmentalize and rationalize horrendous
crimes – to figure out “why” this happened. And the “wrong neighborhood”
explanation is a quick and easy rationalization of brutal murder.
But when you live in a place where grief becomes the norm,
you start believing that you don’t deserve more – that this constant grief and
fear of certain, impending loss weaves its way into your psych.
How do you fight back when the things you’re fighting have
become the hard facts of life?
What do you tell your children, who are growing up taking their own lives in their hands everyday just by hopping on the playground swing set?
What about the teenagers, who are trying desperately to get
out of this place to a new life, who have to face the death of their best
friend, whose only sin was running to find shelter in a rainstorm after school?
This is the reality that many children are facing everyday,
here, in America. It’s not a reality that many of us are aware of, or
comfortable talking about. But if we don’t talk about it, if we’re not aware of
it, that reality will be the same for the next generation, and the next, and
the next.
Clearly, there is no one right, or easy, answer to the
pervasive issue of violence. Despite increased efforts to curb violence in
Chicago, and many other communities across the country, it’s still a present
threat in children’s lives.
One of the experts featured in the Chicago Under the Gun film, Marlita White, the Director of the Office of
Violence Prevention in Chicago, argues that this kind of pervasive violence
inserts itself into the psych of an entire community, and is a public health
issue. Violence affects and is affected by poverty, lack of education, disrupted
family structure, and absent community supports. Violence dehumanizes people
and entire communities. White reflects: “If we respond to violence as we
respond to other kinds of health concerns [then] we can turn the tide on
violence.”
The only way out of this is coordinated, extensive, systems-wide,
extremely costly reforms to many of our biggest, most unwieldy systems.
Education. Welfare. Physical and mental healthcare. Law enforcement.
The chances of this happening successfully? The pessimist in
me says not good. The optimist says we’ve got to start somewhere.
I applaud the strength and courage of so many in this
country who already take on those challenges every day; the people who serve,
who protect, who mentor, who lead, who guide, and who tirelessly advocate for
others. You are the ones who make the difference.
In academic jargon, it comes down to implementing systems
and structures than can, and should, promote positive change in the lives of
kids and families, no matter what neighborhood they’re from.
In plain English, it comes down to taking better care of
each other.
In the meantime, I cling to the hope that there are ways to
make this better. There have to be.
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