Play Meter

FROM THE EDITOR Children are the future I Valerie Cognevich Editor PLAY METER t happened again this week here in New Orleans. A toddler was killed while supposedly safe in bed. A stray bullet zoomed past the intended target, went through a window, and struck the threeyear-old boy in the head. Most likely he died right then; still his father raced frantically to the hospital clinging in vain to that last thread of hope. Just days before, a two-year-old, riding with his father in a truck, was shot in the stomach during a drive-by shooting. On Mother's Day, a nine-year-old walking home from the park with his sister and mother was killed by stray bullets. New Orleans certainly is not unique in its frightening statistics on crime. Cities across America are being swept up in a crime wave that has been unparalleled in written history. The bloody days of Al Capone and his band of bad guys pale in comparison to what is happening today. Gangsters were terrifying, of course, but since most citizens were not involved in criminal dealings, it was the type of thing that happened to someone else. I'm sure that some citizens even figured the gangsters got what they deserved. Then there was Eliot Ness, who arrived on the scene to save the day. The current crime epidemic is infecting everyone. Kids can't ride the streets without being frightened of someone stealing their bikes right out from under them. We're afraid to stop at traffic lights because someone we know once was robbed at gunpoint while waiting for a light to change. No one dreams of parking his car without locking it, even in his own driveway. Once a luxury reserved for the eccentrics, car alarms are now a popular necessity. No matter how big our locks or menacing our dogs, our homes just don't seem as safe as they once were. What's really scary is that much of the terrifying, brutal crime is being committed by children. Many 12-year-olds are 8 brandishing guns and knives , taking or selling drugs, and think crime is a way of life. These kids are ruthless and think nothing of killing "the enemy, " which could be you, me , or our kids . Recently, an 11-year-old boy shot a young girl, picked at random, simply to prove he was "good enough" to belong to a local gang. When the police began closing in, the gang he longed to be a part of killed him. Teachers once were respected and parents stood firmly behind them. Trouble in school meant just as much trouble at home. I was taught to respect my teachers. In fact, respect was a priority. Today, kids are having kids. Teenagers are proudly having babies, dropping out of school, staying single, and sadly have sealed their fate. These parents have no education, can't read the teacher's notes, and threaten to sue over discipline dished out to their kids. Parents have no respect, and that lack of respect is being picked up by their offspring. Kids are carrying guns and knives to school and, if caught, parents argue that their child needs protection . All we needed for protection was a big friend! Our industry has a lot at stake in today's youth. While there are legislators seeking ways to get criminals off the streets by building more prisons, employing more police, and keeping multiple offenders behind bars longer, something more must be done to steer kids in the right direction in the first place. The violence issue that 's been raging is only a symptom of a deeper illness. The lawmakers and parents that are campaigning against video game violence are not looking close enough at the big picture. The coin-op industry has a lot to offer young people. When was the last time any of these people visited an arcade or a family entertainment center to see the good, clean fun their children were having. There are tournaments and challenges that help youngsters boost their self-esteem. They are heroes to younger kids who would love to play that certain game quite as good. Are video games too violent? Let 's stop dwelling on that question and ask another: what would all the kids be doing ifthere weren 't arcades and game rooms for them? NOVEMBER 1994