Gentrification Makes Meanies of All of Us:
Curbed.com recently ran an open letter about gentrification which just about brings about the worst in people on both sides. Sure, the old junior high nerd in me eats stuff like this up…
Don’t rent to anyone that was in a frat or sorority. don’t rent to anyone who wears black pants, a blue shirt and a gold tie to work. don’t rent to anyone who gushes about the opening of a sushi restaurant on franklin without at least considering that every new business catering to recent arrivals ratchets up the cycle of neighborhood replacement. don’t rent to anyone who works in equity trading, i-banking or finance in general. don’t rent to anyone who describes things as “sketch” (a term only used by people who aren’t from the area they’re describing). don’t rent to anyone who wears a dirty white baseball cap. don’t rent to anyone who played lacrosse (unless they’re indians). don’t rent to anyone who like totally talks in that cringe-inducing neo-valley girl voice.
And, in spirit, loves this…
rent to artistically-inclined people. rent to actors and musicians and painters and writers and designers and carpenters and chefs and gallery curators. rent to social workers and nurses and people who work at non-profit organizations. rent to people who are interesting, people who are intelligent, people who have hobbies, people who have dreams that consist of something other than making partner. rent to people who aren’t living here as a pitstop on the way to a luxury condo. rent to people who have heard of the caribbean day parade, of the riots, people who have a rudimentary understanding of the area’s history. rent to people that will contribute to the neighborhood in some way, shape or form.
But ya know what? I live in Haight-Ashbury, the shining example of the latter, at least 40 years ago. Haight-Ashbury has gone from the Grateful Dead’s neighborhood in 1967 to a theme park for suburban teenagers, a toilet for homeless kids and a fantasy for ex-hippes lucky enough to have bought a house up the hill 3 decades ago. The Haight no more resembles the birthplace of free love in 2006 than Hollywood Blvd. resembles where Gene Kelly attended premieres. That a supermarket sits vacant two blocks from my house because the neighborhood won’t late a Trader Joe’s move in (it’s both non-union and will bring “gentrification”) tells me it’s delusional and dangerous to think otherwise.
I don’t think gentrification is an either/or. I don’t think we have to rip the guts out of a neighborhood to make it friendly to a higher paying clientele because no one moves to a place like the East Village in search of a funky Starbucks. But there is nothing “real” or “authentic” about homeless teens and drug dealing in front of the local bodega. It means that the neighborhood and by extention, the city, isn’t doing its job providing a viable alternative to its residents. It also creates an environment people are affraid to raise families in, furthering the dangerous perception that a city neighborhood is for 20 somethings, gay couples and the retired but anyone with “serious priorities” should head for the suburbs. No city can survive that way.
The sad truth is also that there are way more boring people than interesting ones. Why a straight-edged fellow moves to a funky neighborhood then complains there’s no Banana Republic, I’ll never know. But as long as there is a paucity of interesting places to live and a surplus of people looking to gain social capital by moving there, I don’t see how we are going to escape this miasma known as “gentrification.” The question more me is can we come up with some practical, workable solutions that involve neighbors, business and government, instead of just calling each other names? (via Buzzfeed).