I am gentrifying my neighbourhood
It’s frightening how we find ourselves swept up in large social changes. We act, thinking that our actions are our entirely own, only to find that so many others are making the same decisions. I begin to wonder to what degree are my decisions my own (or God’s) and to what degree have I swallowed the ideas, values and assumptions prevalent in society.
I watch the rapid gentrification of my neighborhood—I knew it would happen eventually but I would not have anticipated the speed. To put it bluntly, six months ago there were not this many white people walking around. So property prices are increasing, rents are rising, and houses are being renovated. While I can say that I am part of the neighbourhood’s revitalization, I am also displacing plenty of lower income families, and representing the arrival of yuppies and hipsters.
The gentrification in many ways seems inevitable. And if Matt and I had not chosen to live where we are now, and opted to live in, well, an already gentrified area, the neighborhood would have changed anyways. But that does not take away from the fact that we are part of urban process now that is moving lower-income, underprivileged families further out to the periphery.
So what do we do when we recognize that our actions, by no evil intent, are hurting others? To what degree do we go with the flow and recognize that this may not be one of the battles that we are called to fight and that we are not responsible? (Is that resignation?) Or, how do we stand up against the river when we feel like a little pebble being tossed about in the current?
In some ways this question is a moot point for the time being, as Matt and I have already signed our lease. For the time being, we are called to love and care for our neighbors, whatever ethnic or class background they may be from. But when it comes to buying a house* (something that is on the radar for the next few years), how are we to tread? Even if we try to tread softly, our footprints seem to sink far deeper than we would ever want them to.
* We can’t really afford a house in the wealthier sections of the city. Do we buy a house in this already gentrifying area and continue to contribute to this inevitable process? Or, do we buy a house in a predominantly black lower-income neighborhood and risk setting off gentrification there, because our very presence will change the way that the neighborhood is viewed? (And I question the latter option critically—it can easily be done with a sense of pride and self-righteousness, instead of faith, love, and a specific calling).
7 comments:
I would say "first post" but this hits a little too close to home (no pun intended).
The question of gentrification is frustrating to me because it seems like you can't win.
What happens if you move to an "already-gentrified" neighborhood? Geographic class differences are heightened. People in the richer neighborhoods stay blind to and fearful of the people in the "not-yet-gentrified" neighborhoods. Those neighborhoods aren't likely to get better on their own.
Remember Ray Bakke spoke of the need for people to become part of broken communities and transform them from within, rather than sending goods and services from the outside. If there isn't a way to do that without driving out the people you intend to serve, then there ought to be.
It seems to me that rising property values shouldn't be a problem per se for existing residents. If the issue is that these people then cannot afford to pay rising property taxes, then property tax laws should be reformed.
I refuse to believe that those of us who wish to transform Philly for the better should just stay away from the poorer areas for fear of ruining things. By God's grace there must be a way for us to do better.
I guess my question is: where may I live? In the city, I'm told I'm either gentrifying or isolating myself; in the suburb, I'm supporting development of farmland; in rural areas, I'm isolating myself and guzzling gas to drive everywhere. It seems there's lots of instructions on where not to live, but where is the place I'm supposed to live?
Nick, I agree with you that further segregation is not the key, which Matt Aquiline has alluded to as well. I think I’ve written enough about diversity to indicate that that city model is not consistent with my values nor my hopes for a revitalized city.
Property tax reform would be key in promoting diversity though I am so clueless as to how politics work or what the City has in mind. But what about the renters? Perhaps there needs to be reform in that area too (e.g. landlords receive tax breaks for renting to lower income families).
I guess at the end of the day, I'm asking Matt Aquiline's question as well: "Where may I live?" And perhaps much less an issue of always trying to avoid harm, or trying to remain guilt-free, but more an issue of where one feels called. But when that calling seems lacking or inaudible or unclear, then what?
Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you were giving credence to segregation. Any "teeth" in my comment were meant to be directed at broken systems. I meant to encourage you on in living in the midst of gentrification.
I don't really know how the whole property tax thing or city politics work. Perhaps becoming shrewd in this regard is part of being the responsible citizens we want to be. I'm thinking of the so-called Parable of the Unrighteous Mammon, Luke 16:8 and surrounding verses.
Nick, I didn't take your comment to imply that at all! I was just... clarifying for the sake of clarifying.
I've been thinking about this post for the past few days, trying to figure out how to put this same frustration into words on my own blog. Being in the same boat, I'm not sure what the right answer is, but as long as Capitalism is the deciding factor in where people can live, it's not going away.
There might be a solution in the Acts community model, but that means looking at a system of equality of God's economy instead of ours.
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