What I learned about trust in my first month of living in the city.

I live in the city of Buffalo. I’ve always felt that I’ve lived in Buffalo but it’s always been on the sidelines, where it’s not quite suburbs but quiet enough that the squeal of tires driving too fast down the streets cause heads to turn and people to whisper how awful it is. The worst thing is speeding well above the 30 mph limit, past the school.

So when I told my parents that I was moving to the city. They told me to never leave the house alone. Responding back to them that I felt completely safe in the city. Where I live is right by a casino that is consistently patrolled. We haven’t had any problems. The only concern I could see valid from my parents and loved ones is that we live close to project and low-income housing with the bad rap that came with the wood that it was built with.

Every time I was told to not leave the house at night by myself, I countered that I wasn’t worried. I felt safe in my new neighborhood even with the suspension unfairly put on it. And that’s how I gave trust to a neighborhood that no one else seemed to believe in.

So when the news came out that there had been a shooting on my street at 3 in the morning, I heard it all over again. And once again I said, I was safe. Some might say that was trust in the wrong place and others might say that I was just being improbable. But I say that it was my own risk, I know where I live and I still trust the people.

The news has now come out a few days later. Finding out that the shooting was two kids recklessly playing around with guns.

My safety was not compromised by the actions of dangerous people within the neighborhood. But the curious actions of two boys that just thought they were joking around.

Showing me what happens when I continue my good faith, not judging what I already felt and knew from talking to the people who lived by me. That where I am is a place that I can trust.