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The ghetto is a very different place from the place than where you and I inhabit. The problem with "regular people" going to the ghetto is that we don't know the rules. Even after years and years of working there, Alan doesn't know all the rules. He can sense danger in the shop, but not on the street.
And so the one-block walk from the shop to the parking lot is always unpredictable, occasionally scary, and we must pretty much ignore the surroundings as much as possible. It is like watching a movie. The stuff happening before your eyes is not happening to you. You go through it and drive out the other side.
And so it was when, yesterday night, in the middle of the walk, there appeared an unaccompanied 4-year-old boy in the middle of the sidewalk. A boy starting to show alarm.
Three of us stood and asked a few basic questions of the lad, until a black woman came and asked whether that was his mom, a half-block away. She sort of took over, but not really, and ushered the boy towards the lady.
The boy looked well-kept, and was properly dressed and prepared for the nighttime cold air. His hoodie was pulled tight and tied. Did he come from the day care right nearby? Did his mother pick up 5 children, and forget one in all the confusion?
At this point, if it is not the ghetto, you might take an interest and make sure things end OK. In this case we overheard that the woman at the end of the block was NOT the child's mother and thus there continued a dilemma. So, things were NOT OK.
But we do not know the ghetto rules, and thus we don't know the different ways we could be put in danger ourselves. The boy looks like someone in trouble, but so do we. We don't know the different ways people will victimize you or take advantage of you. In any other place in the city, we stay with the boy and call 911. In the ghetto, the boy seemed to be in somebody else's hands, and so we all drove briskly away with no known resolution to the situation. Even after one of us overheard that the woman was not the boy's mom.
Fucked up - oh you bet.
On the very other side of this situation, a few weeks ago a white suburban lady came to the shop, and while she figured out whether she was getting a parking ticket, she boldly left her infant on the store counter for five minutes. We looked at the baby and the whole situation in amazement, because in the ghetto you never ever ever leave anything unattended that you don't want to be completely ripped off and/or destroyed. We briefly discussed putting the baby behind the counter until mom came back, but instead just watched it. In amazement.
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