The city in which I attend school is a beautiful place, with a rich culture and history to match, however, ever since the late 1960s to the present, it's reputation has been tarnished with its constantly fluctuating high crime rates as a result of deterioration due to White Flight. The concept of white flight is basically when a mass exodus of white people leave a city or neighborhood, due to a large influx of people of color coming into that area. With the exit of so many white citizens, the area's property value decreases and so does the quality of living. Contrary to many of the misconceptions of the formation of inner cities, this is not because of the people of color who have moved in, but rather because of the racial housing practices in place to deny them of the resources needed to sustain their neighborhood. This demoralizing practice has been in place since the formation of suburbs in the 1950s and still continues.

My university is located in Newark, New Jersey and if you've heard of Newark you may have associated with the crime and violence I briefly touched on before. I used to live in that area as a child and I will say that it isn't an exaggeration that there are some pretty bad things that happen there, however, it isn't to the extent of that no one can go there EVER. But regardless, it's citizens, mainly black and Hispanic, deserve a better way of life. The way of life that is represented through the beauty of Newark's renovated downtown area.

There are new things constantly happening in downtown Newark; new stores such as Whole Foods and bustling restaurants. Its location makes it a hot spot for those who commute to New York City as well as those who can't afford NYC's ridiculous prices. Thus, more young professionals are moving into Newark and the areas in which they reside are the areas that receive this new makeover. But that doesn't mean all of Newark is "fixed."

This brings me to my recent encounter with a Newark resident a few weeks ago. I had just finished my last final exam and was walking to my car, to drive and grab some celebratory sushi with friends, when I walked passed a man with a bright orange home depot looking shopping cart. It had an assortment of cleaning supplies, a 2-gallon jug of water that you would see on office water coolers, and many many towels. The man was black, scruffy looking, yet clean, wearing a Brooklyn Nets cap, dark jeans, and sneakers. I was too preoccupied on the phone to even notice that he was trying to tell me something.

As I got into the car, ready to face rush hour traffic, the man rolled his cart near the driver's side window, and motioned me to roll my window down. The first thought I had was "Oh God, stranger danger, what does this man want?"

However, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. It also was broad daylight and we were in the middle of the gentrified part of Newark, though bordering the outskirts of the residential side that has been neglected. I rolled my window down just a bit and asked him what he was trying to tell me.

"I don't know if you saw me while you were walking there, but I was tryna tell you something. You know your trunk is open?"

I looked at my dashboard, just to see if he was telling the truth- and he was. I had no idea how long it had been open but the fact that he told me reassured me that he wasn't going to harm me in any way. I told him "thank you," and figured that would be the end of my interaction. But he then said:

"Also, I was taking a look at your car and it looks filthy-"

"Gee, thanks, " I thought.

"I detail and wash cars you know, and I'm pretty good at it. You gotta be confident in what you do. How about I wash your car for you?"

I didn't know what to say to this random guy with a shopping cart, who I assumed was homeless, asking to wash my parents' car. Maybe if I had more time, but I knew if I stayed any longer, I'll be late for sushi (not that it was getting cold or anything sushi is already pretty cold). I simply told him "No, it's OK you don't have to!"

"But I want to, ma'am," he insisted. I told him it wasn't my car, it was my parents. He said, "Well they'll be happy that you took it back to them nice and clean."

This man, this random homeless-looking man with a bright orange home depot shopping cart was persistent! I didn't know how else to say no. I didn't have enough to pay him for that service and I would've felt guilty if I let him do it for free. So I redirected the conversation. I rolled the window down a little more and asked him about himself.

"So are you from around here?"

After I had asked it, I thought, "No duh, he lives here, why else would he be pushing around a shopping cart?"

He responded, "Yes, ma'am. Grew up on this street right here, in the projects where that empty lot is." I did notice that on the street I was on there were a lot of empty lots. I guess the city had torn them down to make way for fancy shiny new buildings to attract more of those young professionals from elsewhere. He went on to talk about where he went to school. It was where the Audible headquarters was — as well as all the changes happening in Newark and Irvington. Irvington was the city I used to live in. It was bad when I lived there, and apparently, it's only gotten worse.

"There would be carjackings, stabbing lootings, you name it, it happens." He told me. "It's a shame. It ain't like down here in this part of Newark. This is the safest part of Newark because you got all the colleges, the police headquarters and city hall. Ain't nothing bad gonna happen here."

It was here when I realized that this man, with the shopping cart, who cleans and details cars and calls himself an "educated thug," was describing the phenomenon I had learned in race and ethnicity classes, read in books and described in documentaries. He recognized the gentrification of Newark, heck he lived through it. It's one thing reading about this as historical text but its completely different when you hear it from someone who has experienced it and who still is experiencing it.

"Why do you think things are the way they are in Newark and Irvington," I asked him. "Why it's getting better in some parts, but not everywhere?" I knew the answer but I wanted to hear it from his lips so that I could receive that validity. And he obliged; "It's 'cause of white folk. They moved into these here parts that are getting all the attention and moved out of everywhere else. And god forbid anything happens to the white students who live here."

And that was it. Gentrification in a nutshell. My one minute encounter turned into a 20-minute conversation about Newark, the man's history, confidence, saying "I apologize" as opposed to "I'm sorry," and God's plan for our lives. The most humbling thing for me was when I inadvertently asked him if he was homeless, which I tried to mask as a starter to a conversation about homelessness in Newark. He looked at me incredulously and said:

"Do I look homeless to you?" Turns out, he lived in the apartments across the street from where I was parked.

I felt terrible, but he took it in jest after feeling a little offended of course. It was a beautifully random and enlightening experience which again proved to me the richness of the city of Newark's residents, history, and culture. I'm sure there are many more educated thugs out there who deserve that conversation as well.