Bob Burkett, Editor-in-Chief Emeritus

Notre Dame prides itself on the “education of both the mind and the heart.”  A Notre Dame education at its best leads students to think beyond themselves and use their gifts for the common good.

I graduated and elected to do just that: take my educated mind and heart and make a tangible impact on the world.  Serving at-risk youth in Detroit sounded like the perfect opportunity when I considered the anthropology classes I had taken and the skills I had acquired here.  And yet the experiential dimension of my education changed my perspective from one gained through a theoretical textbook to a tangible, personal reality within a unique social context.  I soon realized that despite four years of quality instruction at Notre Dame, my education was still in its nascent stages.

I had no prior experience with Detroit, and no one I knew could offer me an insider’s perspective.  Researching the city by reading periodicals and online news sources was my only recourse.  When Detroit declared bankruptcy, unbelievable facts surrounding its demise were highly publicized.

The unemployment rate of 16.3 percent is more than double the national average.  While eleven minutes is the average response time to a 911 call in America, it takes about an hour in Detroit. Wild dogs, homeless squatters and drug addicts are common residents in the 80,000 abandoned homes scattered throughout the city.  Forty percent of the city’s traffic lights were not functioning in the first quarter of 2013.  Detroit once boasted a population of 1.8 million, which is now a mere 700,000—a 63 percent decrease.  All of these statements are further compounded by the fact that Detroit is consistently ranked among the most dangerous cities in America.

Most readers absorbing and digesting these facts were convinced that Detroit was beyond repair, myself included.  I was worried enough about the crime in Detroit and lack of police presence to forgo packing certain gang-affiliated colors.  My first weeks in Detroit were similarly tainted by signs of moral decay.  I saw prostitutes soliciting drivers near exit ramps.  I witnessed a drug deal in broad daylight in the local park.  I heard six gunshots fired only feet from my house as I was laying in bed.  Although I made sure the doors were locked, I realized my baseball bat was futile against an armed intruder with the police perpetually an hour away.  All of these experiences continually reinforced for me the media’s notion of Detroit as a black hole of desperation and despair.

Yet these facts represent only a small fraction of the whole story.

Detroit is a city shrouded in stigmatisation.  The statistics flouted by the mass media further perpetuate this stigma by sensationalizing the city’s struggles.  The main pathology of the media today is its incessant overshadowing of the positive with the tragic.  Outside of the Detroit bubble, no one hears about the pride of the Detroit everyman.  Seldom do I pass a resident on the street who has not made his or her allegiance obvious.  Their shirts bear messages like “Detroit Hustles Harder,” “Made in Detroit,” or “Detroit: The City of The Future.”  Collective hope and pride are exemplified in the support of local sports teams.  A Detroit Tigers or Lions cap accompanies nearly every head, and a discussion of these beloved local teams is a surefire way to spark a friendly conversation with a stranger.

While the outside world has given up on Detroit, Detroit has not given up on itself.  Residents have filled in the gaps that the government’s failures have left so obviously exposed.  Community betterment projects and initiatives abound.  The people of Detroit convert vacant lots and abandoned houses to community gardens.  They attack the sex and human trafficking industries with non-profits that foster and maintain relationships with current and former prostitutes, providing pathways to escape exploitation.  Most importantly, they build strong, trusting and intimate communities.  Networks of interconnected relationships provide strong deterrents against criminal enterprises in certain neighborhoods and, in some ways, compensate for the underfunded and understaffed Detroit police.  Detroit is nowhere near perfect, but the individuals and institutions functioning in Detroit have, at the very least, quelled the desperation overwhelmingly portrayed by the mass media.

Because the projection of simple statistics by the mass media convinces the average reader that Detroit is failed and beyond help, many individuals succumb to the fatalistic notion that they are incapable of making a positive impact in the city.  In some ways, this is true.  A lone individual will never fix the root problems that put Detroit in its current state.  Yet this does not mean they do not have the ability to make any kind of positive impact—no matter how small.  Nor does it mean that they cannot become one of a critical mass who can transform the policies and structures that have left Detroit in its current miserable state.

I came to Detroit hoping to definitively change the city for the better.  Working with at-risk youths at a homeless shelter, I have realized the limitations of my actions.  I am unable to alter the overarching policies, decisions and personal circumstances that have forced these youths into shelters.  Yet I can focus on making the lives of certain individuals better by acting as a role model, helping them find jobs and teaching them important life skills.  Even if the failed societal structures cannot be affected on a wider level, the impact I make on a single homeless youth can dramatically alter the course of that individual’s life.

In my year of service (or rather, experiential learning), I have realized that the big picture perspective of a college education often loses sight of the practical, manageable ways in which a single person can and should make a positive impact on the world.  I know that the short-term work I do is menial, but the long-term implications of my actions truly do have the potential to change Detroit.  In the words of Archbishop Óscar Romero, I am a “Prophet of A Future Not Our Own.”  I may never see the good that comes about as a result of my actions, but I am planting seeds that will reach fruition in the coming generations.

One of my favorite shirts I have seen worn in Detroit reads, “Believe There is Good in Detroit.”   Yet literally contained within this statement is another message, made distinct in a contrasting color: “Be The Good.”  I hope that Detroit can be a lesson to many that the contributions of an individual are not inconsequential, but rather of the utmost importance in living out the fullest responsibilities of our education in this world.

Bob Burkett is a former Editor-in-Chief of the Irish Rover.  He currently resides in Detroit, Michigan, for his year of service with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps.  For further discussion of the positives and negatives of the city of Detroit, he can be reached at rburkett@alumni.nd.edu.