You sure can dress her up, but you still can't take her anywhere
Published 6 February 2006
Hi! You've stumbled upon a blog post by a guy named Ryan. I'm not that guy anymore, but I've left his posts around because cool URIs don't change and to remind me how much I've learned and grown over time.
Ryan was a well-meaning but naïve and priviledged person. His views don't necessarily represent the views of anyone.
A few of my friends used the SuperBowl weekend as an excuse to check out Motown Winterfest in all of the superhype glory. What we found was amazing. Crowds, traffic and revelers, lots of police, and only one homeless person. The transformation was incredible, not just in the beauty of the city but in its attitude.
Our small crew were investigating rumors of marshmallow roasting, when we saw a series of four-foot high bonfires, enclosed by metal platforms to keep the kids safe. I asked a man where to find the mallow vendors, and he replied by giving me the balance of his bag and a roasting stick. My friends and I set up shop near one of the bonfires and began roasting, belatedly realizing we shared the fire with one of my classmates, who provided us with graham crackers and chocolate. Behind us, a nine-year-old white suburbanite kid was showing some black Detroiters his favorite way of roasting a marshmallow. For one night, Detroit was awash with community and serentity. Instead of the violent race tensions and depression that has wracked the city for years. The only hint negativism came from proselytising Christian hatemongers. And that’s to be expected in the midwest.
Of course this couldn’t last. Outside of the first bar we visited, at around 1:30 a.m., a “bumping” incident turned into a fatal shooting. Ah well, Detroit is still Detroit in some ways.
The SuperBowl (can I get a go Steelers?) gave Detroit a glimpse of what it could be like to be a real, grown-up city. My only hope is that the city finds a way to do the same thing without having to rely on Ford, Motorola et al from dumping so much cash into the festivities.
Oh—and hiding our homeless? That’s just shameful.