I live in a historically black neighborhood on the edge of Annapolis, MD, about five miles from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. The neighborhood was once a single large farm on a small peninsula between several small creeks emptying into the Bay. It was inhabited by several black families freed after the Civil War; the Johnsons and the Browns and the Pecks. My house is a former part of the Johnson property. These days the neighborhood, “Brown’s Woods”, is like a checkerboard, racially, socially, and economically. There are old shacks and cottages, there are million dollar waterfront homes, and then there is everything in between. We moved to Brown’s Woods when I was 7 years old. The first day we were there I met a kid Kenny, he lived one house
More than Just Race: Being Black and Poor in the Inner City (Issues of Our Time)
Newark began to deteriorate and the white residents blamed the rising African-American population for Newark's downfall. However, one of the real culprits of this decline in Newark was do to poor housing, lack of employment, and discrimination. Twenty-five percent of the cities housing was substandard according to the Model C...
One of the most destructive forces that is destroying young black people in America today is the common cultures wicked image of what an realistic black person is supposed to look like and how that person is supposed to act. African Americans have been struggling for equality since the birth of this land, and the war is very strong. Have you ever been in a situation where you were stereotyped against?
The downgrading of African Americans to certain neighborhoods continues today. The phrase of a not interested neighborhood followed by a shift in the urban community and disturbance of the minority has made it hard for African Americans to launch themselves, have fairness, and try to break out into a housing neighborhood. If they have a reason to relocate, Caucasians who support open housing laws, but become uncomfortable and relocate if they are contact with a rise of the African American population in their own neighborhood most likely, settle the neighborhoods they have transfer. This motion creates a tremendously increase of an African American neighborhood, and then shift in the urban community begins an alternative. All of these slight prejudiced procedures leave a metropolitan African American population with few options. It forces them to remain in non-advanced neighborhoods with rising crime, gang activity, and...
This ‘city within a city’ was predominantly black between the 1900 and 1948 due to increasing segregation in D.C. during that time. It was the most populated area of restaurants, bars and clubs owned by African- Americans in the city. It wasn’t until the Supreme Court ruled that restrictive real estate based on race was
The first place comes to my mind is Chinatown, the place I have been living for three years, but never got a chance to have a close-up view of it. When I came to Chicago, it was the first place I went to and it really gave me a different feedback. It made me feel like I was back in China, because there were a lot of Chinese people and Chinese restaurants in the town. The landmarks of Chinatown are the Chinatown Gate, and the Nine-Dragon wall.
Culture is something that we all have. It illustrates who we are as people. There are many types of cultures in this world. The one culture that illustrates who I am is Mexican. I was raised in which some would call a typical Mexican family. In my family are my mom, stepdad, and siblings but my real dad is German and African American, which I still see whenever I want which is a lot. It's common that my parents have extended family over like cousins, grandparents etc. and nobody in my family is quiet and I mean nobody. Everytime I walk in my house it's loud, festive as if we were having a party or a fiesta.
My perception of our world is that racism exists everywhere, even in the land of liberty, America. I am aware of the fact that there is racism against not only blacks, but also whites, Asians, along with people from all other ethnicities. I believe racism is deplorable in any form. Therefore I do my best not to be racist in any way.
I would wake up Saturday morning to birds chirping. I would get up, get dressed and go outside. The children in my neighborhood would come to my backyard, and we would play 'til our parents called us in.
The year is 1943, April 19th, and I’m a young Jewish 16 year old girl. Deep in the ghetto of Warsaw is my new home where I live with my 3 older brothers; Micah, Johnathan, Alexander and me, Katrina Doran. My mother and father are Ezra and Keren Doran. They are both deadly sick from the ghetto. My brothers and I tend to them as much as we can. For 3 years my family has been in this ghetto, plotting, scheming, behind the Germans perfectly unbeaten backs. We’ve joined an unwavering resistance.
My whole life changed drastically when I moved from the suburbs to the “hood” or “ghetto”. My appearance , the way I talked, and behavior changed a lot from what I used to talk like or dress like. I had moved from my mom’s house to my grandmother’s house which was in a very rough neighborhood filled with gang activity and police. When I moved in to my grandmother’s neighborhood I could definitely see the changes from my previous neighborhood the streets were dirty trash everywhere and wherever you went you felt like people were watching your every move. I saw patrol cars riding up and down the street ten minutes and it was not a quiet neighborhood it seemed like everyone was playing music through a speaker all at the same time.
The community that I had been living here for the past couple of years is Woodside. Woodside is my home where there are a lot of varieties of things to do with people’s lives. In fact, it accommodate how people in this community interact with others such as going to varieties of stores, enjoying themselves at the park and etc. The best view point of my community that I like to talk about is the park and the good foundation of stores that are provided in this community.
The wind howls, the waves crash, the sky is falling, the world is crumbling, the ground is shaking, my family is dying. “Mom, watch out!” my life flashes. The world turns black. No one around, so silent. All I can see is a tiny dot of light miles away. Maybe it is my family! I run toward it getting faster and faster. As I get closer I can see more and more light. As I reach the edge everything bursts with color. Birds in the sky, trees everywhere, and the waves crashing on the sand. My world, back, in front of my eyes. Where is my family? I need to find them.
History is said to repeat itself, but in my opinion that theory is an easy out. It is an easy way to excuse inexcusable behavior. It’s a way for the common person to justify their unwillingness to change for the better.
My neighborhood is pretty quiet, so when it is nice outside I go to the tennis courts and do yoga. The tennis courts are never occupied so I have the freedom to go anywhere I want. I never actually go onto the courts but right outside them in the grass. To the left sits a grassy field filled with weeds and wild flowers, a truly beautiful sight. Behind the small field there is a thin layer of trees to separate my neighborhood from the next. Peeking through the trees is a silver fence, which encloses a backyard that is always filled with dogs. Big dogs I presume, because they are quite loud. A big tree sits on the other side of the tennis courts, with its massive roots peeking through the dirt. Also on the other side of the courts sits a bench swing, looking over the neighborhood close by. I had never really paid the lone bench swing any mind, but now I can’t seem to leave it.