The Real Jets

Being born and raised in Rahway, I've been sheltered from many things. I grew up in a house, well a duplex apartment type of house, in a neighborhood where everyone knew each other. There were good people, bad people, drunks, drug addicts, wealthy, and poor people. There was a mix but we all respected each other for what they were and who they were.

When moms died, two months later, my father and I moved to the "projects". It was in the same city and not far from where I was currently living. The area had a horrible past and not so polished recent happenings. It was an area where drugs were abundant, drunks were on car trunks and hoods, cops were foreign and stray bullets were a regular sound. Mom warned me to stay away in my younger years and that was the only place I couldn't play in. I wanted to see what was the hype and why I couldn't go and my curiosity led me to witness all that was mentioned.

Upon arrival to the "projects", it was completely different than what I had witnessed before. It was tolerable. Just the occasional party that lasts all night and a coupla hustlers walkin back and forth. I was iight wit that. I had a washer hookup, an eat-in kitcken, living room and two bedrooms along with a bathroom. The heat blazed from november 15th till sometime in march. HOT AS HELL! We had our own front and back yard and we could have lawn furniture and so forth. I described my living situations to someone and they politely said it wasn't the "projects". They informed me I was in a not so decent private community. I disagreed. I was brought up in so much better so this was a real downgrade for me. I felt I was in the "projects".

Just today I wandered in to a Newark "project". It's late almost 11pm and tons are kids are outside unsupervised, running amuck, doing whatever they pleased. I saw basketball courts, playgrounds, and a massive laundry line that could probably hold five to six apartment worths of laundry. I walked into a stairway and people are having conversations that may echoed horribly. It had a smell of a pleasant rundown transtation alley. Nothing to be mad about, but definitely not a homey smell.

My destination was a friend of Gabe's, who's girlfriend lives there. I walk in and the heat is so much hotter than what I previously experienced. I placed ma coat on the arm of the chair. The friend was in the kitchen wit his girl, and his "lil bro" and they were freestyle rappin over somebody's music. Background scenery is kids, three that I noticed, running around yelling and screaming. Something happened and one of the kids got a harsh verbal thrashing. I summed up, don't show out in front of company. The verbal abuse made me sad. Kid went back to the room and I didn't see her again for the rest of the night.

I come from prosperity. Even though I am lacking in some areas I still live in abundance. I could be here. I could be living oppressed and held down. I thought, "dag!" I have just seen "the real jets" and I'm sure things get worse than what I've just seen.

I'm walking away hearing loud music, seeing and hearing neglected kids, and cops rolling up with flashers and sirens. "The Real Jets"

Just Keep Wondering...