At 9:42 on Halloween night, I sent myself an email. It read: “Halloween shooting.” I had just walked a few blocks from Wisconsin and M Streets in the heart of Washington, D.C.’s Georgetown neighborhood. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone got shot, most likely a black teenager. It was so obvious what was going to happen that I wanted to just email myself a note. There was simply no way, after what I had just seen, that someone was not going to get killed; I think I wanted to predict it just out of sheer frustration. We all know what the problem is. But we just don’t have the guts to speak honestly about the issue of unsupervised black teenagers from broken homes and the havoc they can cause — to themselves and others.
Just before 11:00 p.m., 90 minutes after my email, a black teenager was shot on 28th and M Streets in Georgetown. He is in critical condition.
I had gone down to Georgetown to take some pictures and video of Halloween night, which in Georgetown, at least when I was a kid, meant costumes, crowds, bars and fun. Yet as soon as I got down there, I noticed something very disturbing. It is something we do not allow ourselves to talk about for fear of being called racist.
There were swarms of loud — and I mean cacophonously loud — teenagers drifting through downtown Georgetown. I was standing at Wisconsin and M Streets when a mass of about 50 of them poured across the street, ignoring the orders of a police officer who told them to stay behind the barriers set up for pedestrian safety. The kids were absolutely charged with energy; it was the kind of crackling atmosphere that happens before a fight. They spilled into the parking lot of the Riggs Bank. I followed them. On the other side of the parking lot was another group of black kids, mostly males. They were intently telling one of their friends to “not get involved.” “Those guys have guns!” one of them shouted. It was 8:30. On a Monday night. The PC police will have me over the spit, of course, but liberalism has cost so many lives that I don’t care anymore. The fact is, there were not hordes of white teens and preteens roaming through Georgetown on Halloween.
Standing in the throng, the air seemed to gather weight. Well, here is where it’s going to go down, I thought. There will be a shooting, which will be followed by calls from the liberal politicians in D.C. to “do something to stop the violence” and “give our kids some hope and opportunity.” There would be a story in the paper, and the comments section of that story would be filled with racist hate about a “chimp out” and “planet of the apes.”
In all of that, no one would have the guts to tell the truth. It was not Asians or whites or Indians who were wilding in Georgetown. It was black teenagers. Illegitimacy and fatherlessness in black urban areas like Washington, D.C. has created an entire class of youth who have been weaned on gangster culture and have absolutely no impulse control. Being in the middle of the maelstrom in Georgetown, I was struck by a simple observation again and again: These kids have no impulse control. They scream to each other across the street at the top of their lungs, talk at the same time, say inappropriate things to adults and settle disputes with guns. Every single one of these problems is also a problem with white teenagers, especially considering the rising divorce rates among whites. But whites do not have such a terminal concentration of fatherlessness in such small areas the way blacks who live in inner-city neighborhoods like Washington’s Anacostia do. We simply have to restore black males as responsible and loving authority figures and fathers in these areas or the same thing will happen every Halloween — and on most other days of the year.