Kelsey and I live in what many would consider a “transitional” neighborhood. Our street is packed with people from many different cultures and walks of life. The first trendy coffee shop just opened. I hear several different languages when I’m riding the bus through the neighborhood. I have a great view off the back of my porch and can walk to work. I used to think this was all great. Now it makes me feel conflicted.
Living in a “transitional” neighborhood as a relatively young liberal-arts-educated Euro-American is a strange thing. My appearance (light colored skin, Birkenstocks, fancy rain jacket) associates me with the yuppies and yipsters who are slowly infiltrating the neighborhood, while my current-state reality as a renter (who can’t afford the cost of a 2 bedroom 1 bath starter home) in the neighborhood associates me with the other immigrants, refugees, and working class who live in the ‘hood.
The strangeness is accentuated by the fact that we have been given our “90 days notice” which is the polite way of our landlord legally telling us “I'm gonna give you to the count of 3 months to get off my property before I level the place with a house-eating machine just like I did the cute bungalow next door!” (see photo below). 6 brand-new (most likely unimaginative) townhomes will replace our crusty old building, and will probably sell for $450,000 (no view) - $550,000 (view).
You can imagine our frustration at having to move. As my previous post makes clear, we love our apartment and our neighborhood, but are constantly confronted with the reality of being in this weird space where we don’t really fit in to the two camps. We certainly aren’t poor, but we can’t afford a home.
I think there is a difference though between us and the working poor in our neighborhood. It’s rooted firmly in our upward mobility. Because of our family background, undergraduate education, and (sadly) the color of our skin, our incomes will most likely rise along with the number of choices we will have. Will Kelsey and I stay on the south side of the city and continue to explore issues of gentrification, racism, classism, etc., or move to a “trendy” part of town that’s got cool restaurants, music venues, and lots of fancy rain jackets?
For a more eloquent posting on similar issues that has inspired me please see my good friend (and real life writer) Kendra’s post entitled ”Capitol Disillusionment.”
Living in a “transitional” neighborhood as a relatively young liberal-arts-educated Euro-American is a strange thing. My appearance (light colored skin, Birkenstocks, fancy rain jacket) associates me with the yuppies and yipsters who are slowly infiltrating the neighborhood, while my current-state reality as a renter (who can’t afford the cost of a 2 bedroom 1 bath starter home) in the neighborhood associates me with the other immigrants, refugees, and working class who live in the ‘hood.
The strangeness is accentuated by the fact that we have been given our “90 days notice” which is the polite way of our landlord legally telling us “I'm gonna give you to the count of 3 months to get off my property before I level the place with a house-eating machine just like I did the cute bungalow next door!” (see photo below). 6 brand-new (most likely unimaginative) townhomes will replace our crusty old building, and will probably sell for $450,000 (no view) - $550,000 (view).
You can imagine our frustration at having to move. As my previous post makes clear, we love our apartment and our neighborhood, but are constantly confronted with the reality of being in this weird space where we don’t really fit in to the two camps. We certainly aren’t poor, but we can’t afford a home.
I think there is a difference though between us and the working poor in our neighborhood. It’s rooted firmly in our upward mobility. Because of our family background, undergraduate education, and (sadly) the color of our skin, our incomes will most likely rise along with the number of choices we will have. Will Kelsey and I stay on the south side of the city and continue to explore issues of gentrification, racism, classism, etc., or move to a “trendy” part of town that’s got cool restaurants, music venues, and lots of fancy rain jackets?
For a more eloquent posting on similar issues that has inspired me please see my good friend (and real life writer) Kendra’s post entitled ”Capitol Disillusionment.”
