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Traveling further up Detroit's 12th Street, my daughter and I come to a stop at a traffic light. The street signs are missing from this intersection, and only one of the two red lights is working. A mother and a young child cross the street, they are caring groceries. They take a diagonal across one of the urban prairies, and disappear behind a collapsing alley garage, gone from view. It's a reminder that I am in a place comparable, at times, to Hell. At the same time, this mother and child are an affirmation of truth, that people here are still fighting, and still dreaming.
I can just here them now; "why are you beating a dead horse, Sean? You are setting yourself up for disappointment. You can't change anything, why even try?" Have you ever heard that before? I have.
During preparation for Super Bowl XL, I remember reading an article stating that the Detroit public lighting department has had some problems with keeping all the streetlights on. In their defense, the department head mentioned that the problem isn't actually fixing the streetlights, it's going around and testing them. Supposedly, this is part of the reason things get so out of hand. In a similar analogy, this is part of the reason I feel compelled to pick up trash or clean up graffiti. I just got sick of walking past it, over, and over, and over.
Huh, you and I getting involved; who would have thought it actually makes a difference?
