The Spirals of Poverty and Mass Incarceration Upend Urban Communities
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“Be a shield of protection for my baby,” she’d say as part of their daily ritual.
Though she prayed to God for a shield, she served as
protector, marching him to and from school like a drum major. Her baby,
Khyrie, was 13 then, a quiet, lanky boy with soft features and
penetrating eyes. As much as she tried to buffer him from danger, he’d
already seen too much. A cousin had recently been murdered. He’d
witnessed a host of relatives cycle in and out of prison for drugs,
violence or a combination of the two. And many of his friends, without
drum majors of their own, seemed to be finding their own beat in the
streets.
Dawn knew she didn’t have much longer before that beat got too loud for
Khyrie to ignore, or before the cops would begin to see her baby-faced
boy as a man. Black men don’t always fare well in neighborhoods like
theirs, where trapdoors lay in abundance, ready to snatch them from city
blocks and toss them straight to cell blocks, or worse, a grave.
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Source: NBC News
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