Posted by The Dean of Cincinnati

So the other day I took my son to Bellevue Park on Ohio Avenue to play.  As we pulled into the parking spot, he was thrilled to see that there were three other children playing—all with their father, who had a van.  The family was white.  Adjacent to the playground was another parking area, where a large group of black men were standing around, talking very loudly. 

What power in that juxtaposition!

The group of black men were having a very animated conversation, punctuated frequently by the exclamation of words like “Shit!” and “Nigga!” and “Muthafucka!”

The other white father kept trying to catch my eye, and invariably I made eye contact with him.

“What a great place to take the kids, huh?” It was like he was waiting to make that comment, because as soon as he made it he started packing his family into the van.

So I found myself thinking about the playground environment.  I don’t know if my son is old enough to have even understood the profanity coming from the group of men adjacent to the playground.  But I couldn’t help but consider what kind of environment was being created as a result of their boisterous presence.

That is how I came to be considering the idea of healthy environments while watching my son on the playground.

I turned my head and saw the father backing out of the parking spot.  His young daughter sat in the front seat, his two sons in the back.  I watched as he lit a cigarette, the smoke wasping around the car interior.

I noticed the empty eyes of his daughter, looking longingly at the playground, her long brown locks encircled by smoke like an angel.

Thank you for reading (and printing from) The Cincinnati Beacon.