They'd shoot me, step over my dead body and go about their business." "People won't fistfight me," Marcus says, almost sadly. But he also knows that a fight now would end not with fists but with a gun. He is not about to change that by trying to adapt to the downtown world. Now he fits in and has earned a measure of respect. New to the neighborhood, he had to prove himself regularly, in fistfights and shouting matches. He remembers when he was in grade school and his family moved to the city housing project where he lives now, a 16-story building with what Marcus calls "cages" of wire mesh on the balconies. Growing up, fighting was an almost daily part of life, as common as learning to ride a bike, stealing a first kiss or holding back the tears at the wake of a friend. Standing out is something Marcus says he cannot afford to do. His mother, Julia Tramble, said, "I tell my sons that they want to fit in, that they want to ease into the white world with as little friction as possible."īut Marcus's world is his South Side neighborhood, Washington Park, where dressing "more white" will make him stand out, not fit in. On the occasions when Marcus looks for work or fun in the Loop, Chicago's downtown, his mother tells him he would be treated better if he dressed "more white," says Marcus, who favors the hip-hop uniform of baggy jeans, hooded sweat shirts and high-top sneakers. Frustration is worming its way into his soul. He has applied for jobs as a messenger and a dockworker but has not had an offer. He says he will go back after he works for a while and contributes something to his family. He dropped out of high school in the 11th grade, a source of friction between him and his mother. Just trying to stay alive takes so much of his concentration, Marcus says, that he can hardly think about the future. Even some fellow blacks, he says, see him not as a son or a brother but as a threat. White strangers with their hostile stares and nervous glances seem to fear he will pounce at any minute. When he goes out, though, Marcus feels accused of a crime he knows nothing about. When he looks into the mirror he sees not a monster or a mugger but a slender brown-skinned teen-ager, 6 feet 3 inches tall, with hair cropped close on the sides and a smile that breaks out more easily than these mean streets would seem to warrant. Never say anything, even in jest, that can be taken as an insult retribution can be deadly.īut some things Marcus cannot control: his skin color, his size, his youth. Don't wear a baseball cap cocked the wrong way it can be gang symbol and a magnet for violence. Stay away from that street corner it's a crack dealer's hangout. There are places he will not go, clothes he will not wear, words he will not say and feelings he will not let out. Marcus Tramble, an urban survivalist, follows that law as closely as he can.įor years his daily decisions have been governed by his fear of dying young, another victim of the violence that hovers over his world.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |