The walk from my house to my school is pretty interesting. My house is in Leschi, a section of the Central District (affectionately referred to as the “CD”). My school is Garfield High. Here’s some things I pass on my walk to school.

- My neighbor’s house, complete with 17 bullet holes in the front wall from last March.
 – A bona-fide, gin-u-wine, mansion. I’m not kidding. It’s got pillars and a glass door and everything.
 – A former crack house.
 – Several Benzes.
 – A Lincoln Navigator with spinning rims.
 – Another mansion.

What we have here is a divide. Often referred to as “diversity.” (It’s a lot like Garfield, actually, but that’s another column.) The reason my neighborhood is so scattered is that Seattle is an excellent city. Therefore, people want to live here. And the CD, geographically anyway, is a very good place to live. It’s within range of job opportunities, good schools, and plenty of other things people covet for their living situation. People like living here. Rich people, in particular. Often, white people.

It isn’t a racial divide. Not technically, anyway. It’s one of class. However, most of the middle-class citizens of the CD are black. And most of the wealthy people who buy property from said middle-class are white. So it is easier to view the situation in terms of – ahem – black and white. People think of the CD as “ghetto.” Sure, some of it is. Hell, my house is quite ghetto – at least compared to the mansion(s). But make no mistake about it — there are plenty of people here whose wallets are pretty fat. It’s actually pretty jarring to walk from Garfield to my house. The scenery changes for the “better” and “worse” over and over again.

Now, I’m not saying that it’s impossible for people from different monetary backgrounds to co-exist. But, it’s proven to be a pretty volatile mix. Since the CD became a hotspot for the well off, problems have surfaced. Accusations of racial profiling have shown up on the front pages of local newspapers. Long-time residents are torn between taking big money to move or staying in the only community they know. And while on paper it looks as diverse as a college brochure, it’s just as divided as Garfield (check Lydia’s column). You hear about us in the news more often, and tension – racial or otherwise – has increased.

Okay, that’s the problem. Here are the solutions: Have the police do their job: You never see cops in the CD. EVER. Not on the residential streets, anyway. And I’m outside a lot. We had a “blockwatch” after the shooting in March, and things were quiet for about two weeks. It’s hard to tell whether that’s because there was a shooting, or because the police were around. Then the cops left. The routine leapt back to normal: street racing and gunfire. Thankfully, the local Weed and Seed crime-stopper program recently received a grant that will pay cops overtime to walk the streets in the CD starting in October.

Perhaps rich white people will buy houses elsewhere? Nah.

Where’s my unity at? The communities get smaller and smaller, more exclusive and reclusive. The neighborhood has always been a little dangerous, but now the neighborly attitude that existed back when I was a little kid is disappearing — fast. We had our first block party in maybe six years this summer. And everyone got along. Sometimes you just have to get to know people. We’re divided enough. We can hang out together.

Of course, I can tell you right now what’s probably going to happen. Slowly, maybe even in the next few decades, the CD will be 90 percent white, and 95 percent rich. The appeal of living here is great, and it will only get greater, as richer families move in and improve the “quality of life” in the neighborhood. People who have lived here for years will be lured away by the money. Because the CD is a great place to live.

Just not right now.