Keep Kids Off Drugs
Please keep your kids out of my neighborhood. You see, my neighbors and I live in a constant state of danger, a danger created mainly by your children and their cold cash. It all comes down to one thing: drugs. Now I know you don’t support the use of drugs, and you don’t want your kids to get them. It is with these feelings you have fought (or at lest supported the fight) to keep them illegal. I completely understand that need; no one wants a loved one doped up or in the throes of addiction, especially a child who is still learning how to cope with the world. It is this fight against drugs, however, that makes it unsafe for me to walk in my own neighborhood after dark. Let me explain.
My neighborhood, like many low-income neighborhoods across the nation, is territory of an organized street gang that sells illegal drugs for large profits. The money comes in from children like yours, who drive in from nicer parts of town or the suburbs, where crime is more under control. They cruise by, maybe even in the family car, and get what they want: pot, coke, speed, acid, reds, crack, blues, and even heroin. And no, it’s not someone else’s kid, it’s yours.
Once your kids’ money is in the hands of our neighborhood dealers, it is spent on expensive cars and automatic weapons that not only elevate the image of a drug dealer to children growing up in this neighborhood, it leaves them better armed than the police attempting to control the situation. Competition between companies selling television sets results in price wars; competition between dealers results in street wars, with many innocents getting caught in the crossfire.
Do you have parks in your neighborhood? There’s a really nice park across the street from my apartment. Unfortunately, no one will let their children play in it because there are too many junkies. A balloon of heroin costs $20 bucks, and that’s the minimum these losers will shoot into their arms per day. It’s an expensive habit, and these jerks aren’t paying for the stuff by exercising stock options. They’re panhandling, breaking into cars, robbing apartments, mugging senior citizens, and even selling their bodies. Now, although the idea of legalizing heroin and selling it at the drug store for $3.00 a pop may seem scary to you, if it keeps me from having to get the window in my car replaced once a week, call me selfish, but I’m all for it.
You support the War on Drugs, but you don’t fight the battles and you don’t deal with the consequences. We do.
(And while you’re at it, keep your husbands out of here too! This place is seedy enough without businessmen in Saabs picking up hookers for a little under-the-steering wheel action. It’s hard enough to find a place to park as it is. Keep the good love coming ladies; keep `em at home.)
And you ask, “if it’s so bad, why don’t you move?” Me? I can move, and I probably will once I can afford to live somewhere nicer. There’s nothing romantic about getting your apartment broken into every three months. But this is a neighborhood full of families struggling to pay their rent. They are working people who get up every day and go to work, just like you, only they don’t get paid as much. They don’t have the resources to pick up and move, and even if they did, many would refuse to admit defeat and traipse off to the suburbs. This is home for them. And what does moving fix? Nothing, it’s an avoidance of the problem, proof that you don’t know how to solve the problem.
With all the billions of dollars spent, all the people in jail, all the propaganda and property seizures, your children still can buy anything they want. Law enforcement can’t even keep drugs out of prison, how can they keep them out of our streets? Regardless of the media image, it’s not all the crackheads driving the market, it’s middle class usage, it’s your kids and your friends, and we foot the bill. Don’t bother to thank us, just blame us for burning our own neighborhoods down. We are, after all, savages, and you are the zoo keepers (who occasionally travel into the jungle for a taste of danger). Stay away, and keep your kids away; people are trying to live here.