19 May 2013
I have been living here in Steepleton for a long time. Until recently, however, I did not have as firm a grip on what makes my city tick as I once had on my hometown of Sliverville. Maybe you can never know a place as well as you can know the place you grew up in. Maybe you can.
Foot canvassing my city for a couple months taught me more about my city than living here for two decades. My city likes to think of itself as a city in the country. Leaveittobeaverville, if you will.
This might be Leaveittobeaverville except for one small matter. That small matter is Steepleton's inner city. Our inner city, which is comprised of many small, disconnected neighbourhoods, is in desperate shape. There are a lot of people in my city just barely hanging on.
I have had the good fortune to get to know them a little. They are my kind of people. Unlike the people looking down suspiciously on them from their mansions on the hill.