The Newark that I grew up in was ruthless, dangerous and infamous for crime. This cold setting molded me into what I am. There are five wards in Newark: North, South, Central, East and West. Each one provides a lot of negative stimulus, but as an adolescent I used that as a guideline to know, with very little doubt, what was right.
The South Ward of Newark was notorious for crime and violence. It was considered to be one of the only places where you could get mugged, beat up and shot in 72 hours. It was home to the projects and tenements. In these places, if you didn’t know anybody you would be harassed by everybody. The colors that you wore, which might signal gang membership, could be vital to your survival. The colors that you wore meant more than the words that you might say.
The Central Ward of Newark was infamous for drugs. Weed, coke, crack and more were your options when choosing the poison that could get you lifted. With a liquor store on every corner and a drug dealer too, you could conveniently get all the things that you needed to get high, every deadly concoction that could corrode your future.
The West Ward had the same feel to it, but it was more indirect. The West Ward still gave you the feeling that you were in the Newark that is portrayed by the media—the crime capital of New Jersey. The weed aroma hung to the clothes of people you passed on the sidewalk. A trio of guys walking down the street inspired thoughts of escape routes from imminent danger.
The East Side of Newark, also known as the Ironbound, is the area where the majority of Newark’s Portuguese and Brazilians dwell. When you are in the Ironbound you lose your sense of space and direction. You feel as if you stepped out of Newark and into Portugal or Brazil. Amazing Portuguese and Brazilian festivals are held every summer on Ferry Street, the “Main Street” of the Ironbound.
These distant districts indirectly touched my daily life. I lived in the North Ward, separated from the other wards by a few miles.
The North Ward of Newark is predominantly Hispanic. Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, Ecuadorians—all are different Spanish-speaking nationalities; all are clumped in the North Ward. The differences between them at times cause friction, but the similarities keep them huddled together. My area is relatively peaceful, with not that many stabbings or shootings. What we lack in violence, we make up for in car thefts.
In the North Ward, if you want to keep your cool car you will need a club, a foot club and multiple kill switches (devices that prevent a car from starting until they are deactivated). They may seem like unnecessary precautions to an outsider, but this is an area where a 14-year-old knows how to get into a 1995 Civic with just a screwdriver. (It is ridiculously easy.) The North Ward is a place where neighborhood gangs like the Second Avenue Deuces are assimilating and evolving into Crips and Bloods. It is a place where schools are known for the gang that is a majority there.
I wholeheartedly believe that your environment shapes who you are, but it is not the only factor. Your family, friends and your beliefs play a major role in determining who you become.
But this is the Newark that I know, the Newark that sharpened and honed my street smarts. This is the Newark that taught me what was right by showing me examples of what was wrong.
Darien Diaz, a Rutgers-Newark student, wrote this essay in a freshman seminar.
