The Village

Growing up in the 70’s and 80’s in Trenton, NJ, I was fortunate enough to have a “Village” who took care of me and my family. Every parent on our block was able to chastise all of the children that ran up and down the street. We looked out for one another. And from time to time, chaos would come to our door, as troubled kids tried to pick a fight. When those things happened, we stuck together. No matter the outcome, we were going down together or we were going to rise up in triumph together. We never went looking for trouble but it would find its way to a the pleasant block lined with trees and gardens that sat below the train tracks which separated us from the affluent neighborhood – The Hiltonia.

All of the children played together as we raced up and Bruce Park Drive, barefoot most of the time. Mopeds were the transportation of choice for those who didn’t have cars. Everybody got along for the most part on the neighboring streets as well. We attended Joyce Kilmer Elementary, Jr.#3 and Trenton High, while a couple kids attended Notre Dame and McCorristin which were private schools. Everyone went to school and that was that. We didn’t hug the block by hanging out on the corners. However, there were a few who called the corner home but they didn’t come out ‘til nightfall anyway.

We were not met with violence like the present day situation in the same area. We respected our elders. No one would dare get out of line with an adult. That just wouldn’t happen because everybody knew you. They knew your parents by name. And if you were the new kids on the block, we took you in and showed love.

This was my neighborHOOD. We took care of one another. We cared about others well-being. This is who we were. This is who we are. The YOUTH was the main priority of every adult. We nurtured our talents and we supported one another’s endeavors. We played Sugarhill records. We had contests for rappers and breakdancers. We did everything except graffiti. Oh, we had the artist, we just chose not to tag our own neighborhood. Our talent shows with Mr. Cain were the talk of the town. The New Breeze Drill Team was everything with Ms. Meekins. Oh…and all the kids knew Mr.Kimble. He along with my math teacher, Ms. Snow didn’t play.

We enjoyed basketball games at the park during the Summer Leagues. We had the choice of basketball or catching a Little League Game with future baseball players. Mr. Brown Ice-Cream truck was our desert after we stuffed our faces with the best fries from the food stand. We had a ball. However, no matter how much of a good time we were having, we knew not to let those street lights catch us or there would be hell to pay from our parents. We didn’t have cell phones to call home. We understood the internal clock’s batteries never died. We knew when to be home. We respected our parents enough not to have them worrying about us for no reason. We knew what the word respect was because it was taught at an early age.

This is who I am. This was my village. Tell me about your village in 1000 words or less. Enter to win special prizes from our sponsors.

I love my VILLAGE.
Trina Stackhouse