By Rosine Beleho
I care deeply about Sandtown-Winchester because I’ve walked its streets, talked with its residents, and seen both its history and its pain firsthand. As someone pursuing a career in social work and committed to healing communities, what’s happening here breaks my heart and motivates me to speak out. If you live in Baltimore, you should care too, because the health of our city depends on the well-being of all its communities, especially the most vulnerable.
Sandtown-Winchester isn’t just a place; it’s a symbol of Black resilience and perseverance. It has produced legends like Thurgood Marshall and Cab Calloway. But today, it faces a crisis rooted in generations of neglect. Over time, harmful policies like redlining, along with broken promises and disinvestment, have hollowed out a neighborhood that once thrived. If you drive through Sandtown now, you’ll see boarded-up homes, crumbling sidewalks, and far too many people struggling to get by.
The data reveals a grim reality: According to the Baltimore Neighborhood Indicators Alliance, 43.6 percent of households in Sandtown earned less than $25,000 in 2023. In the same year, out of 5,984 residential properties, 28.4 percent were vacant and abandoned. Many of these houses were built before 1950 and still contain lead paint, mold, and other serious health hazards.
According to FiveThirtyEight and ABC News, Baltimore still has nearly triple the national average of childhood lead poisoning cases. Data shows that most of these cases are concentrated in just a few neighborhoods, with Sandtown being one of the most affected. This means children in this community are still exposed to a serious health risk that many other cities across the country have largely eliminated.
And it worsens. Healthcare in Sandtown is nearly impossible to access. If you need a doctor, therapist, or addiction support, you may have to leave your neighborhood, if you can afford the time, transportation, and costs. This lack of care not only harms individuals but also traumatizes entire families and generations. It’s no accident. It’s by design.
Freddie Gray’s death in 2015 put Sandtown on the national map, but not in the way it deserved. His death wasn’t just a tragedy; it was a wake-up call about the long-standing pain of this community. Sadly, the world moved on, and Sandtown received more attention than genuine investment.
It’s time to change that. I’m calling on Baltimore leaders to act now.
First, we need a trauma-informed health hub right in Sandtown. Similar models exist in areas like Highlandtown and Upton. Let’s create a center where people can walk in for medical help, mental health support, and addiction treatment, staffed by people who understand the community they serve.
Second, address the housing situation. Use the city’s Affordable Housing Trust Fund to rehabilitate vacant homes, remove lead hazards, and create safe, affordable places to live. Collaborate with groups like BUILD and No Boundaries Coalition; they already understand the work and the community.
Finally, let Sandtown take the lead. Residents must have real decision-making power when shaping their future. Community-led boards and local input aren’t optional; they’re essential.
Baltimore can’t claim equity while communities like Sandtown are still suffering. Real change starts here.
Let’s stop talking about justice and start building it.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.