Gentrification: Always a Dirty Word?

Is gentrification the same everywhere?

Gentrification refers to the economic revitalization of urban neighborhoods. More affluent residents move in and more up-scale businesses follow. In the 21st century, gentrification is often a dirty word: code for classism, economic discrimination, racism. Just look at the growing tensions over gentrification in San Francisco, particularly the Mission District, where technology giants and their extraordinarily well-off employees can swing the entire economic fate of a neighborhood in a flash.

But should gentrification be equally vilified, no matter the situation? No matter the city?

First of all, let us not forget that gentrification is not all bad. Using existing--often historic--housing stock to its fullest extent. Crime reductions. School improvements. Economic development. Improvement of community resources like shared spaces and parks. Gentrification is also part of the process of reversing the hollowing out of urban America. White flight and excessive suburbanization ravaged city communities and left abandoned once-bustling urban cores. Bringing reformed suburbanites back into the urban fold is good for the future of a city.

So can we take the good--the revitalization--and skip the evils of neighborhood dissolution and economic force-outs of long-time residents?

What is generally given as the prime evil of gentrification is the elevated rents that push out poorer residents. But what if you had a city whose peak population in 1950 was 860,000+ and now houses just 319,000? What if housing stock was abundant and provided a buffer against rent spikes?

A new report has asserted that gentrifying neighborhoods buck this trend in STL. (The authors call such neighborhoods "rebound districts". They are defined by a large improvement in economic and vacancy trends over the last twenty years after spending time in the bottom half of neighborhoods for at least some time after 1950). These areas maintain minority and poor populations because of "loose" housing markets, i.e. plenty of housing stock. Although demand surges, landlords and developers can tap into previously unused or under-used housing and provide for the new tenants without displacing the old.

Do things stay the same? Well, no. Minority populations still shift. Rents may still rise. If done poorly, gentrification can obscure the neighborhood culture that the affluent pioneers considered so chic. But if done right, perhaps gentrification does not need to be spoken of in hushed tones. Especially in rust belt cities like St. Louis (an aside: apparently "legacy cities" is the new term for formerly-industrial cities on the mend. In other news, I apparently have an entire new website to read dedicated to legacy cities.) the excess housing stock may lead to a different fate for gentrifying neighborhoods than in cities already bursting at the seams like San Francisco or New York.

Look around this city and you'll find scores of boarded up houses. Beautiful brick that has withstood time, but cannot forever. Many buildings are well over a hundred years old and retain a timeless aesthetic and a connection to the city's roots. You'd have a hard time convincing me that we should fight economic and social trends that would fill those houses and bring renewed life to sputtering neighborhoods.

Urban Media

Public radio is like a city.

The pledge drive for St. Louis Public Radio ended yesterday. (And it's not too late to pledge!) And I just spent the last two days, as I often do on weekends, listening to roughly eight hours of programming. Actually, that might be a conservative estimate. So I have public radio on my mind, you could say.

I listen to public radio not only to get my news--although it is my primary news source. I listen to get different perspectives, to expand my horizons and to see the world from a new point of view. I listen to On the Media so I understand the broader implications of mainstream and alternative media portrayals of events. I tune in to This American Life to hear how other people live and connect to one another.

Public radio provides something that few other media outlets can, or do anyway. It gives perspective. A local newspaper or broadcast may focus narrowly on nearby events. A lot of times these are sensational stories like murders that absolutely deserve to be covered but are teased out like twisted candy to attract visitors. A national paper or broadcast casts a wider net and tells you what is happening to people around the world and about the political machine marching toward new legislation that will affect you. And the network alternative, cable news, caters itself to self-selecting political ideologies or, like CNN, simply stoops to reach the lowest common denominator.

But public radio can offer a wider perspective. Partly because of its funding model, which at least for KWMU is about 50% individual donors with the remainder from corporate sponsorships, government funding and foundational support. This leaves public radio stations a good deal more independent and capable of covering issues with fewer conflicts of interest. And partly from what I can only assume is tradition. Or another way of phrasing that: choice.

Public radio chooses to provide a human narrative to many of the stories they cover. You hear people in their own voices, beamed into your home from another city or the other side of the world. You hear the pain when they describe loss and their joy when they overcome it. It is an intensely emotional medium.

Public radio is like a city because it provides you with those new experiences you only get from other people. Happening across an engaging, moving story on the radio is like running into a stranger at a coffee shop and striking up a conversation. You didn't know it was going to happen, but by being at the coffee shop, by surrounding yourself with new people, you let it happen. And it enriches your day, maybe even impacts your life.

When I put on the radio on Sunday afternoon I'm always hoping for those same experiences. To hear about problems and solutions and suffering and triumph and the bizarre and wonderful ways that my fellow human beings live grounds me in the wider society. I find this diversity invigorating, much as I do city life.

The Cosmos

The all-encompassing scientific exploration show Cosmos rebooted today. Hosted by Neil deGrasse Tyson, it's an examination of astronomy, life, and the scientific method.

I thought it was excellent and it will be appointment television for me now. And the power of this kind of show is in shaping a huge audience's view of what science is and what it means for us. Emphasizing both persecution of scientists and the huge advances made by the incredibly young scientific method in the last few centuries, NDT (can I call you NDT? NDGT?) calls attention to how science functions within the broader society of humanity.

And his monologue at the end about Carl Sagan, host of the original Cosmos (which I definitely need to watch) was powerful and struck a personal chord with me. Carl Sagan, among a select few others like Richard Feynman, was one of the most influential and accomplished science communicators. My professional goal is to be an effective science communicator and I draw inspiration from greats like Sagan.

Science is an enterprise that functions within society. It requires researchers, theorists, journalists, communicators, policymakers, lawmakers, and voters. It requires time and money and, above all, iteration. Science requires support and skepticism. And it should instill in all of us a sense of wonder and curiosity and awe about our universe and ourselves and our future. At least if people like me do our job right.

If you are reading this and are on the fence about Cosmos, I say dive right in. It is important, crucial really, to let oneself bask in the infinitesimal smallness of our existence and our unique ability to probe nature for its truths. 

March Garden Plans

Spring!

Okay, so we're actually in the middle of a(nother) Winter Storm Warning. Albeit one that is, for once, quite a bit lighter than predicted.

But, nonetheless, it is March. And peeking over at my handy vegetable planting guide provided by Gateway Greening, I see lots of activity starting in March. Along with the rest of the country, I am anticipating the explosion of outdoor activities, and happiness, that the highly anticipated spring will bestow upon us. For me, that particularly means making things grow.

This year I expect I’ll have to tack a couple weeks onto the traditional planting dates because of the bitter cold. But that means that very soon, peas go in the ground. They can handle some snow and they hate the heat. With our luck, we’ll transition smoothly and quickly to some freak heat wave like we experienced two years ago. Time will tell.

Peas first. Then lettuces, and the cole crops like broccoli and cabbage. (Side note: I definitely used to think the term was “cold crops” because, you know, they liked the cold.) Beets and carrots. Radishes and turnips. I could be eating fresh salad in 45 days give or take. Just as important, I’ll be digging into fresh, if cold, soil in a couple weeks. There are few things better.

Unlike last year, I am not starting any seeds indoors. I don’t really have the room in my new apartment and I’m planning to move apartments again. The greenhouse at Washington University has traditionally had a seedling sale on Mother’s day and I am hoping to snag some vegetable seedlings there in May. With my move I may have two gardens going on simultaneously, if I am that much of a masochist. I am getting a jump on early spring planting in my current space. But I certainly hope to find another community garden or have access to a yard wherever I move to continue the warm summer crops.

Although maintaining two gardens in two different locations in the city is probably well beyond my organizational skills, it is a good opportunity to learn more about gardening more quickly than I otherwise would be able to. That is one frustrating thing about gardening, you only get one shot each year.

My other outlet will be helping the Bell Demonstration Garden on Saturdays. I started volunteering last summer and hope to do so again starting this spring. Yet another opportunity to learn from people who really know what they’re doing in the garden.

I’ll update on the garden throughout the season and I hope that documenting it will allow me to reflect on what does and does not work!