We had several cases of stolen packages in our building back in December, and you may remember that some of my outgoing mail (four packages with holiday cookies) was stolen as well. At that point, our association raised a question of rekeying the building, but many residents doubted that the theft had happened due to somebody having the building key. They thought that, most likely, the residents were buzzing visitors in without looking. I doubt that (everyone has windows facing the gate, and it takes a second to check). Also, I knew that my packages were stolen during the night hours. In December, everybody agreed to wait till we got new management in January.

A week ago, there was another case of theft, and the same as with me, it happened during the night hours. Once again, there was a conversation about the building re-keying, but this time, our board member related that this project is expensive, and she does not think it will help since the locks are not difficult to break. She even shared the link where you can buy a “lock gun” online.

At first, I was distraught with the decision not to rekey the building, and I was about to write an angry letter to the board, especially when they suggested I could have my packages delivered to a nearby Walgreens (it’s not “nearby,” and time is the most precious resource for me). But then I thought about it and reread the email one more time. This time, I realized that she was right and that locks do not stop thieves, and I am very well aware of that. If somebody is determined to steal, no lock will stop them. The theft does not exist when there is no reason for it. I thought about how I was always against “gating” oneself from the rest of the world and how now I was about to suggest just that, so something was wrong with my moral compass. And then I thought I already knew the answer: the only way to reduce crime, including theft, in my community is to improve the community itself. And my participation in the beat meetings and my new idea to get involved with Howard Community Board were all about that.

I often hear people complaining about the increasing number of homeless people on the streets of Chicago, and I hear their cries, “What do police think?!” I understand that seeing a lot of this misery is disturbing and unpleasant. And I hear some well-off people articulating that they want to be able to pay for never seeing “all that.”

Recently, I thought about how it felt on the streets of Chicago 150 years ago, when there were a lot of very poor people and very few rich people, and how these rich people felt walking the streets and seeing other people’s misery, and how they probably didn’t want to see it, and the policemen were here ready to remove the beggars from the public places. And how these rich people could isolate themselves from the reality behind the closed gates. And I do not want to be one of them.

And I do not want to be that