Palm Beach County residents were asked:
Please tell us about an important moment in your life that would help someone understand what it’s like living in your neighborhood.
The stories and micro-narratives they submitted (as part of the We Are Here SenseMaker project) are listed below. Click ZOOM IN to learn more about the community member and how they interpreted their submission. NOTE: Some stories were partially transcribed by volunteers who shortened the narratives and referred to the storytellers in the third person (e.g., “her experience was” instead of “my experience was”).
Living in my neighborhood is repeated racism and violence all over again .When you’re old and worthless you can’t control the people you want to control, kids are dying slowly because skin color and many hate themselves because of people treating them like they deserve to be treated like that .my community is nothing perfect when it comes from living in the ghetto.
Many people are afraid to walk outside some are even afraid to walk their dog.but when you realize it’s your NEIGHBORHOOD you can control it yourself you can make it a better town than people who are afraid too.
It was 3-4 years ago, when I first moved here back to Delray. We’ve just recently purchased, and moved into the home, when a deadly shooting happened down the street. I remember prepping the kids for church, while my husband was outside waiting when we heard gun shots go off, following police sirens a few seconds after. I wouldn’t say I’m comfortable living in an area like this, and I dislike it, but sometimes life just tosses you around, and you gotta go with the flow.
I grew up in a very tough neighborhood. My parents had moved from Haiti to America at arrived here at the age of 7 I lived in Boynton for 46 years. Growing up I was called rude nasty things. “I was often told to go back to Haiti” or “go back to the boat that brought me here” and fought a lot over this.
I was born in a housing project.That’s where I lived with my family until I was 9.But life didn’t get better when we moved.In fact, we moved to a worse public housing project.I stayed there until I was 18, which is when I left for college. Since then, I’ve only been back three times and none in the last decade.
We came closest to integration in 1988, when nearly half of all African-American children attended majority white schools. Since then, districts have been casting off federal court orders like rusted shackles. The result, a Government Accountability Office report found in the spring of 2016, the number of African American and Hispanic students attending segregated schools is rapidly growing.