A fourteen year old kid opens his door when he hears a knock and gets shot in the chest. Dead. A twenty-one year old girl sits it the passenger seat of her boyfriends car, and gets shot to death by the people gunning for her boyfriend. A sixteen year old kid gets shot in the head by somebody who "just fired his gun in the air."
Great week in Providence.
Guns don't kill people. The animals that look like humans and pollute my city with hate, stupidity and complete disregard for anything or anybody but themselves kill people.
Gangs. They come from rival gangs. I could almost understand these gangs if we lived in Mexico where drug cartels pose a real threat, or this was prison, or if true poverty and desperate living conditions existed, and these really were "The Mean Streets of Providence," but it isn't Mexico, it isn't Prison and the only desperation that exists on the streets of Providence is the desperate need to avoid work and education, and take the easy route and sell crack, Oxy's and heroin to addicts.
Opportunity abounds in the inner city. Unemployment in Providence far surpasses the rest of the state not because there are no jobs, rather because the culture among the "gangs" and the "unemployed" views honest work with contempt, and employers who have the audacity to offer minimum wage for entry level employment seen as people taking advantage of the underprivileged.
Kids working at Dunkin Donuts, or at the hospitals, or stores, or summer jobs with the city manage to find value in work, and see that their meager earnings are a starting point, and envision a future that includes school, work, family and satisfaction from a life well lived. Kids dealing drugs knock on a door and kill a fourteen year boy who wanted nothing to do with the life that his brother chose.
And the brother loads his gun, and waits.