I keep thinking about the first things a kid notices.
Not policy. Not budgets. Not who owns the land.
Kids notice the cues. The front steps that lean like they are tired. The paint that looks sunburned. The hallway’s smell after it rains. The stairwell light that flickers like it’s deciding whether the building is worth the electricity. The window unit rattling through August nights.
Those details might feel small to the people making decisions. But to the people living inside them, they add up to a message.
I noticed that message riding bikes through Chavis Heights in Southeast Raleigh. I noticed it again years later walking through McDougald Terrace. The people were warm. The buildings were worn. And the gap between those two truths taught me something early on.
