Letter to a Young Gentrifier

Members only?

Recently I received the following email:

I just read your post about your block party, and it sounded like great fun despite all the neighbor tensions going on. I felt a little guilty, however, when I read that the new young white kids on your block did not show up to your displeasure. I am a new young white kid trying to start out in the big city and finding a great new home in the bed-stuy area. I love it and can't say enough good things about it. I'd rather continue living here than in any part of Williamsburg. But I'm not from around here, and I'd never seen a block party in my life until I moved here two months ago. My block hasn't had one yet, but I've seen neighboring blocks holding them, and I've always felt so timid about going to see what they're all about. I don't know anyone, and I'm not sure if I'd even be allowed to join in if I hadn't been participating in the block association (much like your neighbors felt in relation to your Chinese neighbors).

I'd like to start getting more involved in the community, but I'm just so freaking clueless about how to begin, and I'm a little afraid that people will think I'm here to gentrify the place up. Thoughts?

Thoughts? Yes!! Many many thoughts. Many of them paradoxical, some of them whimsical, all of them cyclical. So please bear with me, or skip to the end, whatever you prefer. Where do I begin? Okay, here I go...

Dear Young Gentrifier (for despite your best intentions, that is what you are):

I too am a gentrifier, albeit, not so young. And no longer quite so new. In fact, as I begin my fifth year in Bed-Stuy, and my 250th post about our hood, I feel a tear or two welling up. I moved here excited about this new vista I had never explored. I unpacked my boxes, patted my 8 month pregnant belly, weeded our front yard and a month and a half later gave birth to my first child. A momentous event, a metaphorical event, for as I gave birth to new life, so did I begin one myself. At first I was just happy to be so widely welcomed on my block as a new mother - a position my old circles of single, childless, youngish, bar-hopping, club-going, ladder-climbing hipster creatives clearly were uncomfortable with if not heartily disapproved of. I did NOT look upon my move here as landing the Mayflower in a land of wild savages and converting all to my religion. If anything I think that I'm discovering God here in Bed-Stuy just when I'd thought that he/she'd closed shop and gone fishing.

A large part of that has been writing this blog. And deciding to walk every street of Bed-Stuy, to see for myself the truth behind all the hype. So far, I've only walked half the streets of our hood and to my surprise I've fallen in love. So much so, that although I'm certainly not blind to the neighbourhood's faults, I can't bear to hear anyone talk shit about it. Not the NY Times, nor Joe Jackass in Park Slope or Manhattan. I've become fiercely protective of where I live and am starting to identify with a certain person whom I'd previously thought to be my nemesis (and who still writes in every now and then to keep me on my toes). Now when I see trash, feces and vandalism in our playground I am profoundly dismayed that a few of my fellow residents choose to crap in their own backyard, literally and metaphorically. When there's a poor turnout at our local community garden on 'new member' day, I despair. I'm angry that the elementary school we are zoned for is in such bad shape that I cannot in good conscience send my son there. When three young female passengers shoot the cabbie who was taking them home in the face, it makes me want to cry. Yes, of course for the cabbie, but also the negative press that Bed-Stuy continues to receive which reflects especially badly on the people of colour who live here. Once, I flippantly wrote that I enjoyed our bad rep, because it kept certain people out. Which, for several years is how I felt about New York in general. But despite the proliferation of bedbugs in Willliamsburg, muggings in Chelsea, lack of amenities in Tribeca, our hood is deemed the worst. And sometimes I wonder if our bad rep is keeping us from moving forward and making our neighbourhood a better place for all of us, both long time residents and newbies. Besides the fact that the northern side has never quite recovered from the damage inflicted during the riots of '77.

But I digress. A lot. Let me attempt to get back to the point. I am yellow, so am spared the white guilt burden in living here. However, living here does make me hyper aware of my colour, as much so as when I grew up in an all white suburb in Vancouver. For here I am still a minority, and clearly a newbie. Thus worthy of much distrust and scepticism as far as the long time residents go. Lucky for me, I have two assets that help break past those walls. One, a young child which helps remove certain communication barriers in this family-oriented hood. And two, my partner, Big Joe, whose efforts in this community have not gone unnoticed nor unappreciated. Would I be nervous about joining another block's block party? Absolutely. Terrified, in fact. I prefer to make myself as invisible and non-threatening as possible and move silently past. Big Joe, on the other hand will walk right in with a big smile and start chatting. Now which do you think is the more effective approach?

Kate had some important things to say (plus this great link on how to be a good neighbour) in her comments on my post about the article in the Times.

These are all blessings I have found here in my two years in the Bed-Stuy community – and I found them just by demonstrating respect and care for my neighbors. Not all communities are so healthy that they can respect you and care for you back, but this one is. And maybe I don’t totally “fit in” here (my sangria and chili-lime corn were met with some hesitation and dubious looks at the block party), but I like to think that I can offer what I have, all the same, and it will be received in good faith. Dear Gentry: if affluence makes you thoughtless, snobby or unkind, then Bed-Stuy is not for you. If difference makes you afraid, and fear makes you treat neighbors like criminals or animals or statistics, then Bed-Stuy is not for you. If you are “waiting for a surge,” then Bed-Stuy is not for you. But if you want to be a humble, loving part of Bed-Stuy as it exists today, then I predict you will feel welcome, safe, enriched and happy.

Seek community.

In short, my dear New Young Gentrifier, you get what you give. Join your block association or start one. Smile and say hello to your neighbours. Bring something yummy to your block party. Start a CSA. Share those cookies you just baked with the kids down the street. Do some guerilla gardening. Get the city to plant a tree in front of your house, if there isn't one. Buy your bagel and morning coffee at that mom and pop cafe instead of Dunkin' Donuts. Take a Sunday walk around the neighbourhood, to a part you've never been to before. Check out your community board meeting. Look past the surface differences of your neighbours and celebrate what you have in common. Welcome them and they in turn will welcome you. Mind you, I also need to practice what I'm preaching. To put aside my fears of rejection and stick out my hand in friendship. To participate more in my community. To pick up more trash instead of complaining about it. As for that block party down the street, smile, and say hello. Yes there may be one or two people who will look askance at your presence because of your newness or colour, or lack there of. But at the same time, there will be many more who'll genuinely smile back. Good luck, to both of us.

Peace,
Bed-Stuy Banana

If anyone else would like to offer their thoughts, I've opened up the comments.

*Update 8/20/08 - I just noticed that the Neighbor's Project in Chicago linked to me and added some good suggestions:

The one thing that I'd add is that, before undertaking any neighborhood improvement project (small or big), talk to your neighbors and, if it's a bigger project, local community organizations to see whether it fits in to any existing community visions. As in, avoid imposing, and look instead for opportunities to strengthen existing plans and efforts that benefit everyone.