We can take our neighborhoods back
I would be lying if I said I didn’t get a bit jealous each time I drive by Birmingham-Southern College. The west Birmingham campus, on Arkadelphia Road, sits on 192 acres of endless rows of neatly manicured lawns and buildings made with what look like newly minted bricks.
Twenty-something-year-olds with wind-tossed hair sport backpacks and a smile. They stroll along the campus as if their only care is whether they’ll be late for class. Their world of “Panther pride” seems almost like a mirage in a desert to me.
Outside Southern’s tall, iron gates, and just past the traffic light at the corner, my reality hits. A mile of candy-colored cars sits at the drive-through window of Hong Kong Express (deep-fried food cheap) and spills into traffic, slowing the pace. The street corners are littered with empty fast-food restaurant bags, and police cars whiz by in hot pursuit.
I drive along Graymont Avenue and pass several staggering men. Old vehicles sit parked on the grass in front of various homes, leaving the yards with only patches of green. And, inching by at a snail’s pace is a car riding on shiny rims the size of wagon wheels, its body emblazoned with the bright yellow-and-green logo for the chocolate-covered candy M&Ms.
I pull in front of my home. Sigh. Then, go inside.
* * *
Recently, I read that Reader’s Digest named Birmingham-Southern one of the safest colleges in the nation. I was happy, truly happy for the college. But, at the same time, I couldn’t help but think about how ironic that was when at night, just a few streets away, I hear gunshots.
Not long ago, I was feeding my daughter in the middle of the night and heard two men talking within earshot of my front window. One said to the other, “I’m not scared.” Then, a round of bullets filled the air. I dropped to my knees and crawled to the back of my home, where my husband had to convince me to breathe.
It all makes me wonder if the kids in Ensley sleep as soundly as those at BSC. Don’t get me wrong, those students deserve to live in a place where they do not have to be afraid. But, what about my child?
I would love to be able to boast that my Ensley neighborhood is the safest in the nation. I would love for my 11-month-old daughter (and the one on the way) to sleep soundly at night and not have to worry about the string of break-ins that took place one street over.
Lt. Henry Irby, spokesman for the Birmingham Police Department, commends Birmingham-Southern’s work, but also cautions not to compare its success against crime with that of the surrounding communities. “It’s like comparing apples to oranges,” he says.
The folks at ’Southern are dealing with a smaller, more contained community, Irby says. Outside its walls, the criminals Birmingham Police face are more mobile.
Still, the folks at ’Southern are doing something right. Randy Youngblood, chief of campus police, says criminal activity on his campus is practically nonexistent. He’s a cheery man with a passion for keeping the campus safe. He says it’s a calling.
Youngblood credits his 18-man staff and a supportive administration for allowing him to do what it takes to keep the campus secure. There is strong police presence there, he says. Someone is on watch 24 hours a days, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Cameras scan many areas on campus, including every car that drives onto and off campus.
Youngblood also prides himself in never leaving a ’Southern student in the cold. He will pick up a student no matter where she is. He has even driven to gather students stranded in Nashville and Atlanta. And, all incoming freshmen must meet with him to learn about campus safety.
It’s not as if he keeps non-’Southern folks out, either, he says. “I work hard to try to avoid that perception.” The campus is open to community kids wanting to use the computer lab and library. And, each year, the residence halls are decorated for Halloween, and local families are invited to trick-or-treat up and down the hallways. Youngblood has also been active in past Bush Hills and College Hills neighborhood association meetings.
The way Youngblood’s campus is run, it sounds like — and at 34, I’m not too young to say this — “the good old days.” I remember when neighborhoods were like that — when “neighborhood watch” signs were proudly hung in windows; when neighbors called to check on you; when community folks could chastise your children when they were out of line; and whenever a stranger entered the community, men and women alike would stand on their front porches as if to say, “Somebody’s watching you.”
Now, we look the other way when our neighbor has a problem and say, “That’s not my business.”
Irby says the lesson we can learn from¤’Southern is we can come together and demand that our communities be safe. “We all need to buy into the belief that we can get rid of crime,” he says. “We should say, ‘Not in my neighborhood.’”
There are people like that in Ensley. In fact, it’s not all bad in my community, but a lot of good. I just wish it were more widespread. I wish we were being featured in Reader’s Digest.
There are areas in Ensley where the homes are so beautiful and the streets are so pristine, it will make your jaws drop open. Driving along Bush Boulevard, for example, fills me with pride when I see the historic homes sitting tall and on display. Neighbors wave as you pass by, and the blooming dogwood trees sway gracefully in the breeze as if they are performing a dance.
One man on my street even takes it upon himself to keep the nearby yards neatly cut. He starts out in his yard, then runs his mower across the grass at houses that aren’t occupied and also the occupied ones where the grass has gotten a little too high. He’ll work his way up and down the street, sometimes taking all day.
Then, there is the young, energetic couple who live one street over. They’re new to the community but are filled with ideas of how to reclaim our neighborhood and plan to do so, one house at a time.
We need more of that. We need young men and old men keeping watch on our neighborhoods. We need the criminals to think twice before coming into our community, just like they do before they set foot on ’Southern’s campus.
I am going to challenge myself to do something. I am going to start by attending a neighborhood association meeting. Then, I’m going to break out of my box, get out of my house and introduce myself to the neighbors. After all, it’s been three years.
And, the next time I pass Birmingham-Southern, I am going to let all that envy fly out the window. They are my neighbors, and that small liberal arts college on the hill can surely teach us all a lot.
Marie A. Sutton is a free-lance writer in Birmingham.
E-mail: marieasutton@yahoo.com.
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Marie A. Sutton 
It’s not a safe city until all children (no matter their neighborhood) can sleep peacefully at night.