Growing up in a bi-cultural home, I could easily relate to how and why the immigrants of Camden clung to their native traditions by surrounding themselves with those of similar origins. If anyone was thrown into a completely different environment, they would do just the same. I find it easier to relate to those who have grown up in similar backgrounds; those who share similar beliefs, mores and cultural customs.
The beginning of this chapter describing the “Old Camden” gave me hope for the humanity. Even though there were so many divisions between different sects of people, there were still some underlying commonalities. In hard times, store managers would help their clients pay for food. Communities would spring together to try to look after each other. These acts of human decency need to be shown more to those less fortunate then ourselves. I think it is much easier to help each other when you yourself are also in a time of need, rather than just being an outsider to the situation.
When life as we know it begins to deteriorate, everyone has their first reaction to either stay or flee. In this case, many whites fled Camden after the riots. With the deluge of African Americans swarming the city, it was easy to place the blame on them, especially since blacks and whites were, for the most part, already segregated.
It bothered me to realize that whenever a situation goes sour, we place the blame on other people rather than trying to fix the situation. So many people, myself included, cannot recognize the fault we play in a failure.
I found it hard to believe that Camden could have deteriorated so rapidly after one night. Camden “survived” WWII and the post war era. It was evident that the racial tension and job losses had finally pushed much of the Camden beyond their comfort zone.
