I moved to Baltimore from Washington, D.C., in 2021, for the same reason many people move: cost of living. D.C. had become unsustainable for me, and like many first-time homebuyers, I was looking for space, affordability and potential. My real estate agent pointed me to a block on Dolphin Street in West Baltimore and assured me, “This area’s about to turn a corner. Give it a year.”
I believed it. I saw the boarded-up homes and the potholes, but I also saw opportunity. If the city was encouraging people to move here, I figured they had a plan to back that up.
But since moving in, it’s been a constant battle with neglect — from the city and sometimes even from neighbors.
Baltimore has one of the highest property tax rates in the country. Yet in my neighborhood, basic services are either inconsistent or nonexistent. Trash pickup is unreliable. Street cleaning doesn’t happen. I’ve called 311 repeatedly asking for the parking authority to ticket cars that block street sweepers on cleaning days. Nothing. No one comes, no one follows up.
So the street stays dirty. I’ve started picking up garbage myself — fast food bags, broken glass, diapers, even syringes. People give me looks. A few have even called me a “gentrifier” just for wanting the block to be clean. But when did basic maintenance become controversial?
The city says it wants people to invest in West Baltimore. But how are we supposed to build stable communities when the people tasked with maintaining them don’t show up?
The frustration is getting to people. More than once, I’ve heard some neighbors say they’re thinking of leaving. I get it. Some nights, people on the block set off fireworks — loud, illegal ones — late into the night, well past midnight. Fireworks are banned in Baltimore, but enforcement? Nonexistent. It’s not just annoying; it’s disruptive and dangerous. Families with kids, seniors, people who work early — nobody can rest. And again, no one does anything.
Worse, I regularly see juveniles selling drugs in broad daylight, sometimes right in front of police. And still — nothing. No intervention, no questions asked, no visible concern. If the city isn’t willing to enforce even the most obvious laws, how are we supposed to feel safe or hopeful?
I came here with the belief that things could get better. I still want to believe that. But at some point, it’s fair to ask: Is the solution just to move again? Leave Upton behind and accept that the investment I made — in this house, in this neighborhood — was a mistake? Or should we demand better?
At the very least, city agencies should enforce the rules already on the books — ticketing on street cleaning days, following up on 311 complaints, responding to illegal fireworks and addressing open drug dealing. That’s not asking for special treatment. It’s asking for the basics — what any resident in any part of the city deserves.
Until then, don’t ask us to believe in renewal. Don’t ask us to carry the burden alone. Show us that Baltimore is serious about making every block livable — not just the ones with a spotlight on them.
Victor Jimenez is a communications professional living in West Baltimore. He previously served as a senior communications officer for the U.S. Department of State.