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Challenge 6
A FAMILY CRISIS:
(Almost forgot! This one will be very brief, and somewhat "off the top of my head"..LOL!)
Back in the early-1970's, when gangs began to inflict their influences upon many inner-city communities, our own neighborhood became plagued with the same issues. One of those problems were forced 'gang-initiations.'
My nephew, who was turning 15 that year, and trying his best to mind his own business, remain in school, and out of trouble; was threatened on a daily basis. Not only was he threatened, but our family was threatened as well. There was occasional broken glass appearing on our front porch, screeching tires in front of our house, and verbal threats to destroy our home with molotovs, if my nephew did not comply to gang recruitment efforts. Of course we reported the occurrences and threats to the local police, but those reports were mostly in vain, other than beefed-up patrols in the neighborhood. After all, according to police, we could not 'prove specifically' who the perpretrators were.
At the time, my nephew was the only boy in a nuclear family structure dominated by women. At the head of that family structure was my mother, who had decided "enough was enough" the afternoon her grandson came home with a bloody nose and blackened eye. His assailants had had the gaul (mom's favorite word) to gather on the corner bragging how her grandson would 'really get it' next time.
"I done seen colored folks beat and lynched in my lifetime!" declared my mother. "Why do we wanna act a fool and cut up with each other, Lord only knows!" "Why? why? why? This don't make no kinda sense!"
Mother, not even bothering to change out of her flowered housedress and terrycloth slippers, continued muttering loudly to herself about "the things I done seen, and how we ain't learned nothing yet," stormed down to the corner. Granted, we were initially too petrified to accompany her, but with my nephew on her trail, we sheepishly followed. Scared, but prepared for a beatdown, free for all, or whatever. No one even thought about calling the cops...duh! Only making sure that mom didn't get jumped ....or worse.
My mother, however, who had reached the group long before we did, simply stated whatever she felt was necessary to convey; with one had on hip, and the other hand waving in the air. She then spun around on one foot and walked back toward us. With a look of peaceful satisfaction on her face, mother ushered us back into the house, and immediately went next door to ask an important favor of our neighbor, Mr. R.
Less than an hour later, Mother and Mr. R. returned from K-Mart where she had asked him to drive her to purchase a shotgun. That evening, Mother raised the upstairs window and sat in plain view, loaded shotgun in hand, the entire night. (Yes! Mother definitely knew how to use a shotgun. It was her own mother who had taught her to shoot...and shoot well.)
Mother did this every night for one week. I think everyone on the street followed suit, and we had no trouble from so-called gangs after that..... even though my nephew decided to spend the remainder of high school with an uncle in another state. That decision, however, was made due to the necessity of a positive male figure in my nephew's life. In the weeks to follow, a neighborhood watch ensued.
Looking back, I use the term "gang' loosely as applied to that time. I also know what my mother tried to earnestly convey to those young brothers, and fortunately, they listened. If only, in certain sub-cultures of violence which exist today, those involved would listen as intently.
A FAMILY CRISIS:
(Almost forgot! This one will be very brief, and somewhat "off the top of my head"..LOL!)
Back in the early-1970's, when gangs began to inflict their influences upon many inner-city communities, our own neighborhood became plagued with the same issues. One of those problems were forced 'gang-initiations.'
My nephew, who was turning 15 that year, and trying his best to mind his own business, remain in school, and out of trouble; was threatened on a daily basis. Not only was he threatened, but our family was threatened as well. There was occasional broken glass appearing on our front porch, screeching tires in front of our house, and verbal threats to destroy our home with molotovs, if my nephew did not comply to gang recruitment efforts. Of course we reported the occurrences and threats to the local police, but those reports were mostly in vain, other than beefed-up patrols in the neighborhood. After all, according to police, we could not 'prove specifically' who the perpretrators were.
At the time, my nephew was the only boy in a nuclear family structure dominated by women. At the head of that family structure was my mother, who had decided "enough was enough" the afternoon her grandson came home with a bloody nose and blackened eye. His assailants had had the gaul (mom's favorite word) to gather on the corner bragging how her grandson would 'really get it' next time.
"I done seen colored folks beat and lynched in my lifetime!" declared my mother. "Why do we wanna act a fool and cut up with each other, Lord only knows!" "Why? why? why? This don't make no kinda sense!"
Mother, not even bothering to change out of her flowered housedress and terrycloth slippers, continued muttering loudly to herself about "the things I done seen, and how we ain't learned nothing yet," stormed down to the corner. Granted, we were initially too petrified to accompany her, but with my nephew on her trail, we sheepishly followed. Scared, but prepared for a beatdown, free for all, or whatever. No one even thought about calling the cops...duh! Only making sure that mom didn't get jumped ....or worse.
My mother, however, who had reached the group long before we did, simply stated whatever she felt was necessary to convey; with one had on hip, and the other hand waving in the air. She then spun around on one foot and walked back toward us. With a look of peaceful satisfaction on her face, mother ushered us back into the house, and immediately went next door to ask an important favor of our neighbor, Mr. R.
Less than an hour later, Mother and Mr. R. returned from K-Mart where she had asked him to drive her to purchase a shotgun. That evening, Mother raised the upstairs window and sat in plain view, loaded shotgun in hand, the entire night. (Yes! Mother definitely knew how to use a shotgun. It was her own mother who had taught her to shoot...and shoot well.)
Mother did this every night for one week. I think everyone on the street followed suit, and we had no trouble from so-called gangs after that..... even though my nephew decided to spend the remainder of high school with an uncle in another state. That decision, however, was made due to the necessity of a positive male figure in my nephew's life. In the weeks to follow, a neighborhood watch ensued.
Looking back, I use the term "gang' loosely as applied to that time. I also know what my mother tried to earnestly convey to those young brothers, and fortunately, they listened. If only, in certain sub-cultures of violence which exist today, those involved would listen as intently.
