"This neighborhood is not a ghetto! We are not going to let them make it one!"

Or so a neighbor exclaimed to Mike after last night's incident.

Here's how it went down: I was awakened at about 3 am by the sound of shattering glass. My first thought was that our bedroom window, only inches from the sidewalk, had been broken by a baseball bat and that Mike and I would soon be bludgeoned to death by a thief--after he (or she) discovered that there's nothing of value to be found here. But as wakefulness quickly claimed me, I became aware that nothing quite that serious was happening. My next thought was that someone was breaking car windows, but when Mike peered outside, there was no one in sight. At that very moment, I heard yet another explosion of glass and discovered that the college kids across the street, drunk on a Friday night, were gathering just about everything breakable inside their apartment and hurling it onto the street--and sidewalk and cars--below.

Someone called the cops, who made the kids at least make a show of cleaning up the mess (even though they were way too drunk to hold a broom). Mike ventured out to see if our cars were still intact, and they were. While he was outside, he asked the cop what had happened. "They had a party, and now they're cleaning up," came the curt reply. But what kind of party involves throwing all of your fragile belonging out the window? Have I grown so old that I no longer understand what the hip kids do at parties these days?

Maybe this is my vanity talking, but I prefer to think that the kids across the street are spoiled rich dicks who've never had to think for themselves--only about themselves. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Today, our neighbors expressed their disgust and anger at the lack of neighborliness the college kids have revealed on a regular basis. It seems that this isn't the first incident they've created: a few months ago they were partying loudly on a weeknight and the cops were called. One of the kids was so uncooperative that they had to load his ass into the paddy wagon and take him down to the station. Now, the adult residents of the 1700 block of Jane Street want to get them evicted.

I'm just as angry at the assholes as everyone else: I've got better things to do than clean a bunch of broken shit off my sidewalk, and I'd rather not have to buy new tires. But their anger runs deeper than that. My neighbor got at the heart of the issue when she declared that we must keep our neighborhood from becoming a ghetto. Because when you live in the city, it seems like "the ghetto," with its stereotypical barred and boarded windows, curbside trash, and graffiti, is constantly encroaching.

But this neighborhood has resisted decline. When I moved here from South Oakland two years ago, the surprising peace and quiet of our block, as well as its tidiness and friendliness, was like a gift. I had always thought of the Southside as a loud, active part of the city, but this particular neighborhood seemed to have a small town ambiance due to its largely middle-aged and elderly residents who had lived here for most of their lives. Because of their long-term commitment, our neighborhood remained virtually crime-free and relatively clean.

Then, a house was sold to a landlord type who converted it into apartments that were promptly rented by unruly male Duquesne students. They're the type (not uncommon at Duquesne) who dye their hair, go tanning, pass a football awkwardly in the middle of the street, listen to weird European Coldplay remixes, and wear white button-down shirts with designer jeans on a daily basis: an uncultured, frat-boy variety of the metrosexual that seems to have become more and more prevalent. Their presence in the neighborhood has been aggravating, because they don't seem to understand the unspoken rules of the place; instead, they're acting like they live on, say, Dawson St.

What's so ironic about the situation is that these kids are most likely from upper-middle class suburban families who would shudder at most urban neighborhoods and probably blame the lower classes and minorities for ruining previously gentrified areas. Now, their kids--raised to carry the torch of American priviledge--are the ones being accused of turning our neighborhood into a ghetto. Maybe it's because they've been brought up with the idea that all urban neighborhoods are ghettos anyway, so why bother to exercise personal responsibility there? The city can absorb their days of youthful excess, and by the time they move back to the suburbs, they will have learned how to take care of themselves and their stuff, leaving the neighborhood to the next generation of selfish, sloppy kids.

OK, I admit it: I'm indulging in a rant. To be honest, they haven't made our neighborhood a "ghetto" yet. But after living in Oakland, I know the fear of college students is a reasonable one. It is likely that as more houses are sold to absentee landlords, more irresponsible college kids will move in and trash the neighborhood, lowering property value. I clearly don't care about property value, but I do care about personal responsibility and maintaining a clean, safe neighborhood. And, as of right now, there's still a bunch of broken glass and pottery all over our street. So, I'm going to do something I've never done before (and never thought I'd ever do): I'm going to call the cops. Hopefully they'll bring the paddy wagon back--as a dramatic flourish.