Plain talk in Lawrence Heights
You read here about the public meeting in Lawrence Heights, and you know the list of things that people say they need to make themselves feel safe:
An end to gangbangers and drug dealers driving by, guns blazing; new speed bumps and security cameras; a mini-police station; and jobs for their kids. The people are right. No one, anywhere in this city, should live in fear. The people of Lawrence Heights are our neighbours. We should pay attention to them when they speak, and especially when they have been hurt.
A woman at the meeting said it wasn’t just her kids who were afraid. “Even I’m scared. I go for groceries, we have no lights; if I am coming home, I call my kids to look for me.” Another woman said, “We are scared, if we are in the kitchen cooking, they will shoot through the window.” Is she right to be afraid?
She said, “There was a bullet close to the window where I sleep. I keep my kids in the house because I’m scared.”
And yet there is some steely courage and a common-sense approach to safety. A woman spoke of the community centre where she works: “It’s one of the safest places; your kids come, and we walk them home. We don’t want them to go without the programs they should have.” That is this city, at its finest. A young man stood up and spoke. He said he wanted to keep it real. He meant he was going to tell some uncomfortable truths. He said Lawrence Heights was safe prior to 2006. “But now people know they can come in at any time and shoot the place up and nothing happens.”
He said, with some fervency, “On the street side, on the law and order side — if that protection is not there, we got to protect (ourselves).” He said it was time to unite. He’s right.
But even he has fears. “I have these premonitions my car is going to get shot up (when) I’m driving in the neighbourhood. We can’t live like this. My grandma is trembling in her apartment.” His grandma is our neighbour. He cautioned people to watch their children as they grow, and to look for signs of trouble. I have a hunch even he knows that it’s easier said than done.
There were uncomfortable moments. A woman said, fiercely, “It’s good to underline — police who know the community. Yes, of course people are afraid, but the fear is sometimes of police. You want your kids to be safe. But police who harass?” No one wants that. One man spoke of being carded by the cops all the time. I don’t live in that neighbourhood, and I am not a cop, but he did not look like a guy you would card. I don’t care for carding. Another man, speaking softly but directly to the police said, “Please notice the difference in cultures. This is a diverse community. We may sound rude, if you are not conversant in a second language.” Point taken. The meeting was polite, as these things go. But I was reminded of a place I used to live, up north on Baffin Island. When I arrived, there was drinking, there were stabbings, there was racist friction and despair. After a year or so, the people got sick of the trouble. They held meetings, such as this one, and things were said, and accusations were made in the heat of the moment, and people took sides until a consensus emerged and the people demanded change.
It took many hot meetings, but in time it became one of the safest places I have lived. May it be so for Lawrence Heights. Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. jfiorito@thestar.ca