Chicago R&B sensation Gs delivers a heart felt cry out for help as the city of Chicago’s violence grows more intense. As officials send in state troopers to combat the violence, I think it takes something like this young mans plea being broadcast to be effective. Gs is pleading in song, and you can feel the pain in every note. I urge you as did this young artist/activist to please put the guns down. This composition is so compelling I find it difficult to be brief speaking on it. The issue is so very important. Many of the kids turning to violence are good kids as well, just lost in it all. The government and media are classifying their homes as war zone, i.e. “Chi-raq” is just absurd. I find that so unfair on so many levels. I challenge the U.S. to help them just as they run to foreign countries and help. Give them the same quality aide instead of just targeting a demographic for arrest.
“This isn’t Chi-raq. This is home. This is us.”
Chicago Tribune published an article last month by Bradwell School of Excellence fifth-graders defending their South Shore neighborhood. The students collaborated as a as a counter-narrative to the negative publicity their neighborhood receives as a result of gun violence. Here’s is the work of Demarion, Makyla, Lamaur, Dai’sean, JahLisa, Rondayle, DaShun, Clifford, Angel, Ashford, Keziah, Jakobe, Richard, Ariana, Jahmia, Kiara, Raquel, Adora, Nathaniel, Deamia, Maleek, Tania, Damiontaye, Samaira, Carlos, Deajiah, Ramijee and Jamariah.
This is us.
We saw your news trucks and cameras here recently and we read the articles, “Six shot in South Shore laundromat” and “Another mass shooting in Terror Town.” We saw the reporters with fancy suits in front of our laundromat. You spent less than 24 hours here, but you don’t really know us.
Those who don’t know us think this is a poor neighborhood, with abandoned buildings everywhere, with wood covering the windows and broken doors. Those who don’t know us see the police on the corner and think that we’re all about violence and drugs. They see the candy wrappers and empty juice bottles and think that we don’t care. Uneducated, jobless and thieves. You will be scared of these heartless people. When you see us coming, you might hurry and get in your car and lock the doors. Then speed through these streets at 60 mph like you’re on the highway, trying to get out of this ghetto.
We want you to know us. We aren’t afraid. We know that man on the corner. He works at the store and gives us free Lemonheads. Those girls jumping rope are Precious, Aniya and Nivia. The people in the suits are people not going to funerals, but to church. That little, creepy dog is Saianis, Lamaur’s dog. We are the kids who find crates so we can shoot hoops. When the sun shines here, it’s not God saying he wants to burn us; he sees us all with bright futures. Those who know us look at the ones who want to go to college, not the ones who dropped out of school. If you listen, you’ll hear the laughter and the chattering from the group of girls on the corner who are best friends and really care about each other. Do you see the smile on the cashier’s face when the kids walk in? Why? Because this neighborhood is filled with love. This isn’t Chi-raq. This is home. This is us.
Image Source: dailykos.com