I spent my spring break, both days and nights, with five other Brown students in one of the nation's most dangerous neighborhoods.
North Philadelphia is not for the faint of heart. When three of us made the same spring break trip two years ago, the building across the street from the office where we slept was blown up by drug dealers the week before we came; the intent was to put their rivals out of business. That year, we also spent a Friday afternoon inside while a drug addict waved his handgun around halfway down the block in a park.
This year, just two weeks before we arrived, Mayor John Street pleaded for witnesses to come forward in any of the 21 murders that had taken place in the past eight days. He is considering asking for extra protection for citizens from the State Police or the National Guard. In January, a 17-year-old girl was shot multiple times while sitting in a car just a block from where we stayed; the shooting took place at 1:30 in the afternoon. On Friday, I watched a man shoot up heroin 20 feet from me in the middle of the afternoon. Sufficed to say, things haven't turned the corner in North Philly yet.
But North Philly isn't simply dangerous; it's also as disadvantaged as they come. It's no wonder that over 50 percent of the zip code's individuals and families are living in poverty when just one third of residents in the area aged 20 to 55 have a job.
Census data shows that 2.6 percent of the zip code's population hold college degrees, well below the national average of 25 percent, and just 43 percent have high school diplomas. The median family income is $13,000, and your average North Philly house can be bought for $6,000. Entire blocks are boarded up and condemned, streets are full of trash, and many storefronts are empty.
So why spend a spring break there? It is difficult to find areas that feel more like the frontlines of a battle to save neighborhoods and improve lives. It is a fight between oppressive forces and inspirational ones, like the Philadelphia Village of the Arts and Humanities, a nonprofit organization started in 1986. "The Village," as it is called, has turned 32 vacant, trash-filled lots into parks with grass, sculptures, and colorful mosaics and murals. A walk around North Philly now, particularly near the Village's home on 10th and Cumberland, is like being in an artists' community.
A community garden is also prospering as a part of the Village's environmental program. In addition, after-school visual arts and theater programs are offered for neighborhood kids, as are workshops in childhood lead poisoning prevention. Space is provided to neighborhood residents for meetings and support groups, such as Narcotics Anonymous. The Village is now doing long-term planning for self-induced and sustained economic development in North Philly to develop the neighborhood while preventing developments from out-pricing the current residents.
This year, we cut concrete, jack-hammered and dug holes for 15 eight-foot-tall cherry trees, which we planted around Fotteral Square on Saturday. Just across the street from the high-rise Fairhill Housing Projects, Fotteral Square was no park until a neighborhood woman got a $100,000 grant from the city to clean it up and install new playground equipment. Now it is busy every day with kids, and will be full of blossoms in a few weeks and green until winter comes.
But volunteer labor won't sustain The Village, nor will it help North Philly turn the corner. It takes, at first glance, money. The Village cut after-school programs and adult education plans because of federal budget cuts this year. Many other programs like it are suffering nationwide under a cold-hearted government, and we must start demanding change in our budgeting priorities.
Yet more importantly, The Village and North Philly need dedication. The Village has about half the full-time employees it had two years ago. Dave, the environmental director, now spends much more time behind his desk handling administrative duties than he did two years ago. James "Big Man" Maxton, a Village fixture for 20 years and lead artist, passed away this February and simply cannot be replaced. Their positions certainly don't pay well, and come with much stress and frustration; yet they are immensely rewarding as well. The Village's shortage of skilled and educated labor begs the question, where are our priorities? How many of us are willing to sacrifice our own well-being or enrichment to concentrate the lives of others? This extends far beyond Philadelphia's borders. It is easy to stand by, lamenting the pain and suffering of others; it is another to alleviate it. If ours does not stand with renewed vigor to demand equality of opportunity and justice, another generation will be lost.
Rob Sand '05.5 is running high on idealism.
