My family moved to Detroit in 1998, when I was seven years old, and to the house where we live now on the west side of the city in 2005. Since then, the house to our right has seen a rotating cast of occupants. The house is identical to ours. It’s a single-family home with two floors, five bedrooms, and two bathrooms. There’s a large window facing the street from the living room, and the top seems to be made to look like several mountain peaks. When I was young, before I had any real knowledge of the racism and poverty that had created its own map of the city, I just knew that every few years our neighbors would move out and new ones would come in. One year, it was a mother, an aunt, and fou
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