Furthering the disruption of urban Black geographies and climate change
Gentrification is largely seen as a socio-economic issue affecting urban areas. It is also a political-environmental issue that has devastating effects on Black communities and working class communities across the U.S. Gentrification is not only happening in the U.S., it’s happening all over the world: from Brixton in London to Matonge in Brussels and even the coastal Colombian city of Cartagena. Although Black people can also be gentrifiers, and gentrification affects people who are non-Black, it has disproportionately detrimental effects to Black communities (especially in the United States). The history and reality of residential segregation along with other social-political issues already affecting our communities compound the effects of gentrification. Issues such as: mass incarceration, lack of access to healthy food and green spaces, underemployment / youth unemployment, residual generational trauma and entrenched systemic racism.
Additionally, the process of gentrification further exasperates the precarious conditions caused by climate change. People of color, globally, are at higher risk for the consequences of climate change. Through Black geographies we can identify the intersections between climate change, environmental injustice and gentrification. Expanding our idea of what constitutes the environment can help us address environmental and climate issues in a more holistic and systemic way. In order to do this we have to explicitly name the interconnectedness of the built environment with urban racialized spaces.
Our environment is more than just the natural elements of the earth like the forests, rivers, and wilderness. More than half of the human population lives in cities and most (if not all) of the human population lives in human-built settlements of some sort. Most of the places humans reside are built environments. Thus, it is a grave miscalculation and incomplete analysis to speak of environmental injustices and not include (or completely disregard) urban issues. Urban areas have intense effects on the health of the overall environment, they work in relation to rural areas, and they are embedded in ecosystems even though they often disrupt them. In order to mitigate some of the effects of climate change and fight systemic oppressions we have to start in urban places where the intersections of all these crises catalyze.
Here are five ways that gentrification affects our environment:
Mass Displacement and Homelessness
Mass displacement and homelessness is an emergency in the Bay Area. The number of unhoused people grows rapidly as more and more empty skyscrapers show up in Oakland. Abandoned buildings are left rundown because individuals can no longer afford them, along with growing tent settlements under all of the major highways, in the parks and on the sidewalks. People are forced to use spaces that are not meant for living, and spaces meant for living are left unoccupied because they are not affordable. This not only makes it more difficult to manage the waste and strain on our public spaces, it also means that space is not used effectively.
Increased Construction and Hasty Development
There is construction everywhere, which means increased amounts of debris and toxins in the air. Gentrification usually fuels hasty development that often necessitates the use of inexpensive materials to construct more buildings faster. Buildings and their construction account for more than 30 percent of carbon emissions in the world. The increased construction necessarily increases energy use and displacement. During this process, buildings or sometimes whole blocks (recently a main thoroughfare in downtown Oakland on Broadway street between 11th and 12th), have tenants removed. Then a wall goes up around the block as it is redeveloped, and when it comes down the space is something completely different. It’s hard to mourn a changing landscape when it changes so quickly and drastically that you can’t even remember what was there. Gentrification tries to work against urban memory, unless it can be appropriated and used in the name or trendy design of the new spot. Calling a cafe ‘Hella Coffee,’ or some other dumb shit doesn’t help or actually acknowledge the people who created this vernacular and were displaced in the process of techno-hipsterizing this city.
Speculative Real Estate and Precarious Real Estate Locations
Not only is there an increased amount of construction, much of it is speculative—meaning that property is bought and developed with the hopes of selling it at a higher price even if the current population cannot afford it, or there is no demand for it. It is now common to hear about gentrifying cities having thousands upon thousands of square feet of empty office spaces while the unhoused population grows. In many cities, especially in major cities like New York, these skyline apartments and condos are purchased by wealthy elites from China and Western Asia (aka the Middle East) as investment properties. So these buildings can be more than half owned, or completely owned, by people who do not even live in the cities (or countries) where they are built.
Waterfronts are often prime real estate for gentrifying cities. Since the industrial economy has been declining for decades, ports and formerly industrial areas (i.e. Brooklyn Navy Yard and Hunters Point) have land that is devalued, thus can be purchased for cheap and redeveloped into hip new neighborhoods with trendy new names that locals do not use. Names meant to disconnect these areas from their past connotations. (Like what the fuck is “Uptown”? There’s only like seven blocks in downtown Oakland, three of them are uptown? This doesn’t make sense geographically). Anyway, precarious locations for real estate means construction is happening on unstable and sometimes unsuitable land. Land that is either close to water, which is problematic for the rising sea level and soil erosion, and / or land that is contaminated.
In some cases real estate agencies will hire people from the community, who will eventually be pushed out, to do the dangerous work of “cleaning” the contaminated land to make way for condos or ‘mixed-use’ buildings they can’t afford to live in. Propaganda will say this is community development because people are getting temporary work. But it’s actually using people who are seen as disposable and unskilled to risk their health to clean up devalued contaminated land that will fatten the pockets of already wealthy elites; and the people who did the dangerous toxic work to prepare the land will never have access to the profits of it. Womp!
Continuous Growth and Extended Commutes
The earth’s resources are not unlimited and neither is human existence. This idea that we can continue to consume frivolously, continue to build on every inch of land that exists, continue to “grow,” is why we are in the crises that we are in. The word “growth” has been appropriated by capitalist language; plants grow but not continuously and they do not scale. This belief in infinite growth has led to displacement, which leads to extended commutes resulting in more traffic and more transportation pollution. People who are displaced usually still work in the cities they can no longer afford to live in so they are forced to spend more time in the car, more money on gas, less time with family, and less time for rest. None of these are good for our environment.
Social Tension and Community Insecurity
The effects of gentrification change the landscape and demographics of a city, which also means that feelings of community and safety are at risk. People being displaced and those of us who see our communities changing feel tension. This is in part due to new residents coming in who feel entitled to our space and, in some cases, do not want much to do with those of us who have been here. It is also common new residents have limited or no understanding of the specific cultural and political histories. We (historic residents) feel like the communities we are apart of are disintegrating and disappearing which causes frustration and warranted anger. There is a continual sense of precarity, scarcity and feeling like we may not belong here anymore. For those moving into these areas that are being gentrified, they may feel unsafe or like they are unwanted. All of these emotions create social tension and community insecurity that adds to our inability to take care of the environment, to take care of home.
But can we live, though
Some of us are still here, and we’re staying. We are trying to stay and trying to help others to stay. Some of us are here thriving, some of us are just here surviving, some of us are in transition and some of us no longer live here. Our presence is a response in and of itself. Our presence is a form of resistance and resilience that, for Black people especially, is now encoded into our genetics from dealing with legacies and current realities of displacement and dispossession. We are constantly responding, sometimes in ways that people don’t even register as responses. Turf dancing was a movement in response to urban issues, as a way to claim space in these streets—our streets. Making space for art by artists from and of the neighborhoods here, acknowledging the history of the Panthers and their legacy, rallying with moms for housing and real estate equity, capturing images of people being joyful and dancing… all of these are ways we continue to live despite the daily violence of gentrification, a form of environmental racism and economic disenfranchisement. Whenever some gentrification bullshit happens, I’m just like: can we live though!
Why am I speaking?
Rather than rattling off irrelevant institutional accolades like a masters in urban geography, I’ll just say I’m born and bred in West Oakland, California. My qualifications and realization of the necessity to make these connections lie in the fact that I’m a Black Jamerican whose first house was on 14th and Linden Street in a neighborhood called Acorn. I am recognizing and paying homage to the Ohlone people who have inhabited this land for centuries, have been stewards of what is now called The Bay Area and harvested acorns, which are endemic to this area and much more sustainable than almonds. So I’m from Acorn and although I call myself an Oakland native, I know whose land this is. I’m speaking because so much of my identity is connected to this place and is being disrupted. Spaces here, in Oakland, are being usurped and appropriated by gentrification—this is incredibly concerning to me. Erasing our presence and stories.
I’m speaking to add to the digital record of how the consequences of capitalism, in this case: gentrification, continue to wreak havoc on Black, Brown and indigenous geographies. I’m speaking because I’m an environmentalist who has seen too many organizations and people who claim to care about environmental / climate justice ignore or dismiss gentrification as a relevant environmental issue. I’m speaking because I have had more privilege, opportunities, and access to resources than many of the people I grew up with. It is my belief that I am obligated to share that privilege, the resources and access I have. I am speaking because, as Zora Neale Hurston said: “If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”
It’s a series
If you or someone you know is interested in talking to me about your experiences with gentrification: what you’ve done to survive it, thrive in it, succumb to it or have been displaced because of it… all of these are testimonies I want to hear. This series is a collaboration between us and any witnesses who what to be in solidarity by taking space with us. Because we have to take space, bruh—it will not be given. Holla at me, tell your friends and family!
