2014 Shaping the Future of New York Fridays: 11:00-1:45 Boylan Hall, 2231

Though it has essentially become a fundamental and characteristic staple of urban living, urban renewal is still accompanied by conflict each and every step of the way. The conflict so inherent to urban renewal is most often propagated by two groups intrinsically at odds with one another: local community residents and big businesses.  Their clash often seems to stem from a basic difference in perspective. Urban renewal projects are generally embarked upon with the intention of both personal and communal enrichment, yet, simultaneously, the politicians and businessman usually driving the project tend to ignore the thoughts and needs of the community already in place.

Interestingly enough, this struggle was more or less exemplified in recent years by the uproar over Forest City Ratner’s Atlantic Yards Project in Downtown Brooklyn.  The project began with a brief promise by Frank Gehry, the architect-in-chief, to “build a neighborhood from scratch,” apparently brushing off the existence of the well-rooted community already there. Community activists soon got up in arms and implored Forest City Ratner to develop the neighborhood, not destroy it. Aided and subsidized by the New York City government, the developers eventually, and inevitably, prevailed.

The circumstances in Downtown Brooklyn typified the general conditions of many urban renewal projects. Forest City Ratner poured obscene amounts of money into developing the neighborhood, and they paid displaced residents nearly 2.5 times the market value for their homes. But the subsequent gentrification forced out many other community members as well, including those not accounted for by the city politicians and developers. The neighborhood development drove rent through the roof and tore apart many tight-knit, decades-old communities.

At its core, urban renewal has become a trade-off between money and prestige, and the fostering of protective, united communities that can prove instrumental in the development of our children’s minds and ideals. It is a sad, unfortunate truth, but, as we have all come to learn, money talks. And everyone else remains silent.

Before I had taken this class, I had a very limited understanding of what “public health” meant. What came to mind at hearing this term were ideas like healthcare, insurance and the qualities of hospitals. When I think of health, in general, my first thoughts center around physical health, and what it means to live with or around disease. I think of statistics, of maps, of populations and large groups of people.

What is striking to me, then, about readings like Root Shock and even the reading we had for last week, is that they focus intensely on the emotional aspect of public health as well as the individual aspect of public health. Dr. Fullilove presents her findings on a very personal level, regaling the reader with various tales of individuals she has encountered while doing her research and the way urban renewal has specifically affected their own lives. Her argument is centered around the concept that the emotional changes that come with losing one’s home within a community pose severe consequences to the quality of life that individual will face moving forward. While it may be obvious that a tragic outbreak of cholera in Victorian London because of unsanitary conditions is a major public health issue, I believe the displacement of communities, usually low income minorities, in twentieth century America is an issue not as many people recognize as being one of public health. I certainly did not.

“Kindness worked through the collective as both buffer and glue. It was a force for tolerance and respect…[But] in the aftermath of urban renewal, individuals were preoccupied with making a new life, and perhaps they could not be as kind as they had been previously.” This passage in the reading really struck me, and is an excellent example of the point I am trying to make. To focus on the level of kindness present within a community may sound like something very personal, a well as something trivial, in discussing the health of the residents of that community. But Dr. Fullilove focuses on it extensively, describing different people’s reactions to the decline of kindness in their renewed neighborhoods. What the reading for this week shows is that emotional health is just as pressing an issue as physical health, and individuals demand our attention so that we can learn from their personal stories and fix the problems of the collective. After all, isn’t it individuals who make up our statistics?

It seems that a reoccurring theme in many of our class readings and discussions has been the exploration of how individual factors, such as social bias against the “other” as exemplified in “white flight”, can join together to create a system that is biased on so many levels that it becomes an institutionalized system of selective oppression. That is, there are often commercial/economic motives involved in decisions made by the government (98), which is also influenced by social biases. These social biases are then reinforced by government and business policy, connecting the loop right back to the beginning of the vicious cycle that is “urban renewal”.

Fullilove is careful to note the pattern of American domination and marginalization of minorities and groups with less money or power, beginning with the Native Americans that were driven into reserves (57-59) to the early 2000s.  As long as major businesses are making a profit,as long as the politicians make policies that will win them public support, people groups that are disadvantaged or have less power, privilege, and/or opportunity have little to no say in shaping any policies. Even as supportive, friendly urban communities were built in the face of pressure and discrimination, they were torn down to make way for luxury shops and art museums.

The thing is, when artists begin to attract wealthier people to the area, they can no longer afford to live in their own neighborhood. This is not limited to the 1960s or even the early 21st century; urban renewal has changed form to become gentrification, and it is happening now, here in Brooklyn.  Art is not confined to framed canvases, and even the graffiti artists can no longer afford to live in the same neighborhoods. And artists getting kicked out is the least of it, as gentrification that is once again large-scale and supported by the political and commercial industries that are interested in gaining wealthy citizens and “beautifying” certain urban areas. These are the policies of gentrification that affect minorities and poorer populations with less political and social influence and opportunity.

Two recent documentaries explore the themes of gentrification and the history of urban renewal in Brooklyn, as well as the negative impact these policies and beliefs have on communities of local artists.  In 2013, it was the gentrification of Williamsburg that affected, along with blacks and hispanics/latin@s, artist communities that filmmaker Sue Friedrich explored (and expressed anger towards) in her film Gut Renovation. Then, later in the year, director Kelly Anderson’s film My Brooklyn was released, taking a close look at housing discrimination and racially biased projects and connecting it to the history of urban renewal in the mid 20th century. Once again, many factors, biases, and influences have come together to, essentially, make the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. And once again, racial policies and their long-lasting negative effects have not disappeared, they have merely changed names and changed forms. Equality could be achieved if society was willing to accept minorities, aid the disadvantaged, and whistle-blow any biased policies that were noticed and acknowledged.

And recently, even Spike Lee has something to say about gentrification. (0:00-3:55)