Op-Eds & Publisher’s View

A man beaten unconscious in East Liberty. A woman attacked by teenagers days earlier. Masked groups intimidating concertgoers downtown. Fireworks exploding in crowds. Viral fights in stores. Teens gathering in large groups while adults watch from a distance — uncertain whether to intervene, afraid of what could happen if they do.

Across Pittsburgh and cities throughout America, many parents are asking the same question: What is going on with our youth?

The easy response is to call these incidents "isolated." The dangerous response is to paint an entire generation — especially Black teenagers — as violent or hopeless. Neither tells the full story.

Most young people are not harming anyone. Most are navigating school, friendships, anxiety, family struggles, jobs, and a nonstop digital world while trying to figure out who they are. Many teens in Pittsburgh are doing extraordinary things every day: mentoring younger children, working summer jobs, creating music and art, volunteering in neighborhoods, and preparing for college and careers.

But there is also a visible rise in public disorder and aggression that communities can no longer pretend not to see. Parents see it. Business owners see it. Teachers see it. And teenagers themselves see it.

The deeper issue may not simply be violence. It may be the erosion of the "village" that once helped shape boundaries, accountability, and belonging. Years ago, neighborhoods often operated with shared expectations. Elders corrected children. Coaches mentored beyond the field. Churches, recreation centers, corner stores, and families worked together — imperfectly, but collectively — to guide young people.

Today, many adults hesitate to speak to teenagers in public at all. Some fear escalation. Some fear retaliation. Some fear being recorded on social media. Others fear accusations of targeting young Black youth unfairly. The result is a strange and growing silence where adults see troubling behavior but feel powerless to address it. Young people notice that silence.

At the same time, today's teenagers are growing up in an environment unlike any previous generation. Violence is streamed in real time. Conflict becomes content. Humiliation becomes entertainment. Social media rewards outrage, intimidation, and spectacle with views, likes, and status.

Still, focusing only on punishment misses the larger crisis. Teen behavior does not exist in isolation from the emotional condition of the country around them. Young people are absorbing: political division, economic instability, constant online hostility, images of war and violence, fractured families, loneliness, and a culture where attention often matters more than empathy. Children mirror the world adults create.

But compassion without accountability also fails communities. Communities cannot continue pretending that accountability is optional. That accountability belongs everywhere: parents, schools, courts, social media platforms, community leaders, and the broader culture itself.

Pittsburgh is filled with organizations doing extraordinary work to reach young people before violence does. Grassroots mentoring groups, youth empowerment programs, churches, coaches, arts initiatives, and community organizations continue showing up every day. The city is not lacking people who care. What may be lacking is scale, consistency, and a renewed willingness for communities to speak honestly.

Opportunity matters. Recreation matters. Jobs matter. Mentorship matters. But so do boundaries. So do consequences. So does the courage for adults to say: this behavior is unacceptable, and we will not normalize it.

The real question is whether adults still believe it takes a village to raise children — and whether that village is willing to find its voice again before fear, silence, and division become the loudest influences shaping the next generation.

As the NFL Draft prepares to take over Pittsburgh, the headlines are filled with excitement, projections, and promises of economic growth. We're being told this is a transformational moment for the region. But beneath the surface of the fanfare and forecasts lies a deeper, more important question: SHOW ME THE MONEY.

Public Dollars, Private Decisions

At least $18.9 million in public funding is being directed toward the NFL Draft. That includes a $10 million grant from the state, awarded through the Department of Community and Economic Development's Marketing to Attract Marquis Events program. Those funds were given to VisitPittsburgh — a publicly funded nonprofit tasked with marketing and coordinating the event.

The expectation? That this investment will generate between $120 million and $213 million in economic impact, with projections of 500,000 to 700,000 attendees coming into the city. Sounds like a win for everyone. But is it?

The Illusion of "Economic Impact"

"Economic impact" is one of the most powerful phrases used in large-scale events. It sounds definitive. Measurable. Promising. But in reality, it's a projection — often built on models, assumptions, and best-case scenarios before the event even takes place. How do we determine attendance before the crowds arrive? How do we guarantee spending that hasn't happened yet? And more importantly: how does that "impact" actually reach the people who live here? Because "impact" doesn't automatically mean equity.

Let's Set the Record Straight

There has been a narrative circulating — subtle but persistent — that Black businesses and professionals were somehow unprepared for this moment. That narrative is not only misleading — it's false. Many Black entrepreneurs followed the rules, applied through the official processes, and positioned themselves for participation. They did exactly what they were told to do. And still, many are watching from the outside.

Access vs. Optics

This is not about a lack of effort. This is about access. Because what continues to play out is a familiar pattern: "Who you know" relationships driving decisions, pre-established vendor networks being prioritized, a handful of smaller deals distributed as proof of inclusion. Meanwhile, larger, more lucrative contracts often land in the hands of the same companies that have always had access. A few small wins do not equal equitable participation. They create optics — not ownership.

Who Really Benefits?

With so many public resources attached to this event, residents are asking the right questions: How much economic impact will actually be realized? Who will see that impact firsthand? And how will it be reinvested into the communities that need it most? Because if public dollars are funding this moment, then the benefits should be publicly shared. Not concentrated. Not filtered. Not limited to those already inside the circle.

The stage will be built. The crowds will come. The cameras will roll. And for a moment, Pittsburgh will be the center of the football world. But when it's over — when the lights go down and the visitors leave — what will remain? Will there be lasting opportunity? Sustainable growth? Real reinvestment?

Black businesses were ready. Black professionals showed up. But the opportunity was filtered. And until that changes — until access is expanded, transparency is demanded, and equity is intentional — we will continue to say, louder each time: SHOW. US. THE. MONEY.

Article from Public Source with more financial details: publicsource.org