The importance of home and community can shift with stages in life and major events, as the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted for many of us. Aging can be one of those stages, as people’s needs and wants change. In 2021, the AARP’s Home and Community Preferences Survey showed that 77% of adults aged 50 and older want to “remain in their homes for the long term.” This desire to “age in place” has been consistent for more than a decade.
To learn more about this body of research, we spoke with Marisa Turesky, a Ph.D. candidate in USC Price School’s Urban Planning and Development program. Her dissertation Locating Lesbian Lives shares the process of aging back into the closet through 29 oral histories. Turesky recently won the ACSP’s award for “Best Student Work on Diversity, Social Justice, and the Role of Women in Planning” [read the paper here]. You can connect with Marisa Turesky on LinkedIn, Twitter, or at turesky@usc.edu.
Community-based and led research and interviews
As a new LA resident, Turesky wanted to learn about the local lesbian community. At the Mazer Lesbian Archives, she discovered stories and personal histories of lesbians having to go back into the closet as they aged. Ever since “I have been trying to understand why this ‘traumatic phenomenon’ was happening.” This became “how might housing, communities, and neighborhoods contribute to [older lesbian adults’] comfort and safety?” As the Archives “was mostly run by older lesbian volunteers who shared the community history,” the space became a community space.
Turesky interviewed some of these older lesbian adults about “their attachments to places in the past, in the present, and into the future.” Given her focus on community engagement, she structured her interviews to let the participant set the agenda. “They would draft a list of the places that were important to them in the past and into the future, and then they would walk us through it,” she said. “Instead of me asking them ‘Is home important to you? Why?’ or ‘Is the park not important?’ or ‘Do you go to the bars?’ I followed their lead.” This approach helped Turesky avoid assuming “what the participants are ‘supposed’ to notice.” This enabled them to “share their priorities, even if they are not familiar with the terms” used in the academic planning literature.
Community spaces are crucial but endangered
Turesky focuses on the relationship between loneliness and aging in place. Parts of the literature see social isolation and loneliness as interchangeable experiences. Her research shows social isolation as “an objective measure of how many ties one has” and loneliness as “the subjective experience of whether [those ties] meet intimacy expectations.” This is reflective of the fact that when one lacks community, densely populated areas are not guaranteed to assuage the feeling.
Loneliness is something everyone experiences, but older adults are more prone to it because social spaces are not built for them. “Urban spaces generally are designed for younger people,” particularly when considering LGBTQ+ spaces. Gay bars, some of the only gay spaces, are disappearing across the U.S. Even when available, “older adults often feel socially excluded in spaces so dark, noisy, and often inaccessible to disabled people.” These problems multiply for marginalized identities like race, ethnicity, economic factors, and disability. It is clearer why older LGBTQ+ adults particularly value the safety and comfort found in their homes. Turesky’s research adds a gender-focused and queer lens to the literature on aging in urban spaces.
ACSP 2022 Presentation
Intersectional research
Turesky noticed the literature gap on “the different purposes and meanings” that people give to their housing. This variability “depends on [their] contexts and identities.” She relates intricacies to social isolation, loneliness, and fear of losing community connections. Turesky sees housing affordability and accessibility as a key way to support older lesbian adults and other LGBTQ+ adults to age in place. The goal should be that people can not only find houses but also stay in them. “By homes,” she expands, “I do not mean only the shelter; home is about community development, care, our related facets of urban life, and linking people with the services, resources, and places that they want to be in and stay at.” The planning field often assumes that people will just get up and move when spaces stop serving them without any harm. Turesky hopes hers and the broader research will highlight how some people want to age in that same broader home and community that they had when they were younger.
“By homes,” she expands, “I do not mean only the shelter; home is about community development, care, our related facets of urban life, and linking people with the services, resources, and places that they want to be in and stay at.”
For LGBTQ+ folks, it can be harder to build trusting relationships given the disproportionate rates of violence they face. “It has been really hard [for some participants] to imagine moving” from developing relationships with neighbors and friends, with people you can rely on to look out for you, “to paying someone to [care for you].”
An exciting example local to the Triangle
Turesky closed our interview with a high note for housing for older LGBTQ+ adults. She noted some upcoming research on separate queer housing spaces, and the Triangle area is home to one such place. Village Hearth Cohousing, found in North Durham, is an LGBT-focused community for people over the age of 55. “For some participants, co-housing comes up every time her group of older lesbian friends gets together.” Co-housing provides a community space and affordable, inclusive, and safe housing options. Safety in housing is often front of mind for LGBTQ+ people, who face unequal rates of wealth inequality and violence. “When they were younger, they wanted their own space,” Turesky reflects, “but now that they are older, they are more afraid of being alone, running out of affordable care in the coming years, especially if they do not have a partner to help support them.” These spaces, while not exclusive to LGBTQ+ adults, center inclusive needs. This allows them to age together without diminishing this important part of their identity, particularly if they are in relationships where they want to express affection freely. “Some residents have expressed feeling safe enough to hold their partner’s hand or give them a kiss hello and goodbye in these quasi-public spaces!” Turesky shares.
Researchers and activists like Turesky mark a brighter future for planning for older LGBTQ+ people. “Urban planners should think about ways to mitigate barriers to these creative approaches and alternatives to market-rate housing,” Turesky concludes. To improve conditions, we must recognize that senior housing spaces are “often entrenched in anti-Black racism, homophobia, and misogyny.” Planners should continue to build and support spaces for all ages, abilities, and sexualities by exploring creative housing options, accessible community building, and beyond.
Candela is a first-year master’s student in the Department of City and Regional Planning at UNC-Chapel Hill. She is interested in fair disaster planning, particularly around floods. Born and raised in Uruguay, she received her B.S. in Environmental Science and Policy from the University of Maryland, College Park. Outside of work and school, she enjoys cooking, listening to audiobooks, and organizing around social issues.
As cities grow and develop and the national economy fluctuates, the industries that occupy cities change too. When the economy is booming, built structures of immense scale are constructed to accommodate the surge in industry. However, when the economy subsides, there is rarely the economic energy necessary to dismantle or repurpose those same structures. The Tarheel Army Missile Plant (TAMP) in Burlington, North Carolina is an example of such a structure.
TAMP is a 22-acre complex located only two miles away from the core of the city. It includes 16 buildings and contains nearly 800,000 square feet of space. It was once a booming factory site, but now it is a vacant, crumbling liability for the community.
There are many risks and uncertainties related to a facility of this immense size and heavy industrial use. For many years, these unknowns prevented any pursuits of site reuse. After 28 years of minimal activity, it took a dedicated plan conducted through the American Institute of Architects (AIA) Sustainable Design Assessment Team (SDAT) program for the site to begin to see incremental redevelopment progress. Despite flaws, the plan allowed multiple public and private organizations to take a role in reshaping activity at the site.
TAMP’s History
Originally constructed as a rayon textile factory in 1928, TAMP became an aircraft plant for Fairchild Aviation during World War II. Following the war, it was again repurposed by Western Electric through government contracts to become a primary production site of communications and missile guidance equipment during the Korean and Cold War. The Strategic Arms Limitation Treaties (SALT I and II) would eventually diminish its activity and mothball the sprawling facility (AIA 2019, 6-12).
The varied industrial and military uses of TAMP contributed to the site’s high risk of environmental contamination conditions (AIA 2019, 18). Each industry that operated at the site brought with it a series of risks. Manufacturing activities on the site were conducted by contract companies with the understanding that any long-term environmental responsibility would be borne by the federal government.
The combination of this risk transfer and the war industry economic factors during WWII, the Korean War, and the Cold War allowed the facility to expand and serve as the largest employer in the City of Burlington for decades. When operations ceased following SALT II, the economic factors that kept the factory complex in use diminished. Then, in 1991, AT&T Lucent (formerly Bell Laboratories and Western Electric) terminated activity at the complex, leaving it vacant.
A Complicated Complex of Buildings The TAMP site has numerous environmental contamination issues. Disturbing any of the paved surfaces and ground can potentially release environmental contamination into the surrounding environment. While future technologies may reduce the cost and time required to bring the site into compliance for residential use, uncertainty about when these technologies will mature prevents action by the private sector (AIA 2019).
The scale and design of the site is also a barrier to private sector redevelopment. To streamline manufacturing operations, many of the buildings were connected to each other. This design element requires that any redevelopment done today must encompass all the buildings simultaneously. Also, the secretive nature of the military manufacturing at the site meant that the complex was built with limited external accessibility. That limits access to the buildings if they are redeveloped for a mixture of use types. Also, the building’s scale and durability– which were constructed to wartime specifications – makes demolition and redevelopment complicated and expensive. Together, these design factors result in an indivisible site which poses challenges to partial and phased redevelopment.
While the US Army Installation Management Command (IMCOM) maintains responsibility for the legacy environmental issues at the site, that remediation and responsibility is ultimately shared by multiple state and federal agencies. Current environmental activities are managed for IMCOM by the Department of Defense following the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (CERCLA) procedures. These procedures are implemented by the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality (NCDEQ). The site is subject to permitting and use policies established by the City of Burlington. In addition, the site is on the National Register of Historic Places. This designation enables access to historic tax credit financing, and also requires that work on the site must preserve the site’s historic assets. This complex web of responsible agencies creates a highly challenging and interdependent regulatory environment for any activity at the site.
The combination of these development barriers has resulted in minimal activity at the TAMP site. In 2004, it was sold to Hopedale Investment, LLC and used for storage of industrial equipment. It was then sold in 2013 to Saucier, Inc, of Tallassee, Alabama (AIA 2019). Saucier undertook salvage operations at the facility to generate revenue from the significant quantity of valuable metal remaining in and on the site. They concluded salvage operations in 2015 when no more materials could be cost effectively extracted from the facility.
While the site is considered a historic asset, it represents a significant liability for the federal government and the City of Burlington. Private sector storage and salvage activities on the site only increased the liabilities and risks related to the site (AIA 2019, 6-12). The City of Burlington determined that while it did not maintain any ownership or active control of the site, it was best positioned to take planning action that could impact redevelopment.
Taking a Phased Approach The City of Burlington engaged the American Institute of Architects (AIA) through their Sustainable Design Assessment Team (SDAT) program to produce a plan for the reuse of the TAMP site. The SDAT Team produced the A New Future for the Western Electric Facility plan. The plan recommended a phased approach that enabled redevelopment progress while also allowing for additional time to address the environmental risks and uncertainties.
In the SDAT plan, the team recognized the attachment the community had to the facility (AIA 2019, 25). By focusing on aspirational imagery of what could be built within the historic structure, the SDAT team utilized elements of visioning to build community support for their plan. Community feedback received during community engagement sessions became the basis for the earliest phases of the plan and informed the later designs. By dressing up the grounds and structures with art and imagery that recalls the site’s history, this plan provided an opportunity to show visible progress while invisible background engineering and analysis activities progressed in preparation for later phases.
Community Engagement Flaws The site is surrounded by low-income households and families with children. It is located one quarter of a mile from the East Lawn Elementary School. As a result, much of the feedback that they received from residents included comments about a design for children’s activities, specifically a children’s museum like the one that opened in the county in 2012 (Abernethy 2012). Faced with significant feedback for this specific site use, it became central to the first phase and design depictions. The significant flaw with this inclusion occurred when the team included an image of a building bearing the identical name of the recently constructed nearby children’s museum (AIA 2019, 31).
This flaw was noticed by prominent community leaders when the plan was publicly released. These stakeholders, who were not involved in the SDAT steering committee but were needed as critical advocates and potential financial backers, immediately rejected the plan. Unfortunately, this element would linger in local decision-making and support discussions for private engagement with the plan. Developers and investors from outside of the community, however, did not interpret the plan with this same level of negativity.
Progress Amid Unanticipated Challenges At the beginning of the SDAT process, the TAMP property was owned by Saucier, Inc. In 2018, before the SDAT report was complete, Saucier, Inc. sold the property to David Tsui, who expressed interest in completing the report (Bollinger 2018).
However, Tsui was not the competent and reputable developer that the SDAT process was expecting (Groves 2022). Instead, Tsui, who had been indicted previously on federal fraud charges, tried to resell the property speculatively based on its completed SDAT. Also, in an unsanctioned and dangerous effort to attempt to address the source of the environmental contamination, Tsui conducted the unpermitted demolition of several buildings on the property. Disrupting the soil and structures aggravated the environmental concerns and led to increased environmental scrutiny of the property.
Following the unsanctioned demolition, the City of Burlington ordered Tsui to stop all non-permitted work on the site. Investigations identified other causes for concern and inadvertently attracted the attention of reporter Lisa Sorg with NC Policy Watch (Sorg 2021). Sorg researched and published a series of articles detailing the environmental and health dangers of the plant. This additional attention provided the necessary traction for the City of Burlington to accelerate the NCDEQ remediation work on site. While this progression was not in the phased SDAT plan, it achieved similar progress to the plan recommended.
The accelerated cleanup efforts are an example of how the planning process often realizes related actions differently from the proposed plan. While the environmental contamination still represents the largest barrier to the site’s redevelopment, the progress generated by the SDAT plan continues to regularly attract development interests from around the country.
Conclusion After decades of minimal activity, it took a dedicated plan conducted through the American Institute of Architects Sustainable Design Assessment Team program to enable development progress on TAMP’s site. With a web of stakeholders involved, the immense facility required planning to identify the phased steps necessary to make the project digestible by the local and national development community.
While the major uncertainties of the environmental contamination on the site remain, the SDAT report has enabled advocates like NC Policy Watch and the City of Burlington to apply pressure on the responsible federal government agencies to accelerate the pace of remediation. The exact timeline on when the site will return to a productive state remains unknown, but through the planning process, this once seemingly impossible project is now on the road to redevelopment at an accelerated pace.
Citations
Abernethy, Michael. 2012. “Children’s Museum Celebrates Grand Opening.” The Times News, October 6, 2012. https://www.thetimesnews.com/story/news/2012/10/06/children-s-museum-celebrates-grand/34162879007/.
AIA. 2019. “A New Future for the Western Electric Facility.” AIA SDAT. https://www.burlingtonnc.gov/westernelectric.
Bollinger, Luke. 2018. “Western Electric Site Sold, Burlington to Receive Grant to Assist Redevelopment.” Triad Business Journal, June 1, 2018. https://www.bizjournals.com/triad/news/2018/06/01/western-electric-site-sold-burlington-to-receive.html.
Groves, Isaac. 2022. “Burlington’s Contaminated Western Electric Site Years Away from Cleanup and Development.” The Times News, March 1, 2022. https://www.thetimesnews.com/story/news/2022/03/01/redevelopment-of-western-electric-plant-in-east-burlington-would-take-years-and-there-is-a-lot-left/9324568002/.
Sorg, Lisa. 2021. “Clear and Present Danger: Former Army Missile Plant Has Polluted a Black, Latino Neighborhood in Burlington for More than 30 Years.” NC Policy Watch, September 8, 2021. https://ncpolicywatch.com/2021/09/08/clear-and-present-danger-burlington-missile-plant-english/.
Ian is an inventor, serial entrepreneur, planner, and Master’s student at UNC DCRP. After founding Burlington Beer Works, the first co-operatively owned brewery and restaurant in NC he made the jump into public service when he was elected Mayor of the City of Burlington, NC in 2015. He served 3 terms leading the launch and expansion of the city’s Link Transit bus system, construction of a greenway network, and modernization of planning, zoning, and development ordinances. He is passionate about place-making, walkable communities, and trains. He loves riding trains and visiting railroad museums all around the world.
Edited by Kathryn Cunnigham
Featured Image: Tarheel Army Missile Plant. Photo Credit: Kerry Alfred.
Back in 2017, UC Berkeley Chancellor Carol Christ and City of Berkeley Mayor Jesse Arreguín announced a housing development project at People’s Park. This project, set to start construction in late 2022, will redevelop the park into housing for students, low-income residents, and the unhoused. The City also promised to preserve 60% of the land for historical commemoration and green space.
Not everyone supports the decision to transform People’s Park into housing. The park has a long, storied history. Locals know and love this downtown Berkeley park. They consider it to be the “most consistent place of support that exists in this city” (Ravani and Talley 2022). To them, it is not just a park, but a “…a symbol of activism that is worthy of protection” (Liedtke 2022). It also already serves as a (unsanctioned) housing ground for 55 unhoused people.
With the understanding that this project is controversial and sensitive, the University and the City attempt to gain support from the public and mitigate adverse reactions. They describe the move as a rational choice. This approach to decision-making is a classic example of planners deploying the Rational Comprehensive Model (RCM). Behind the scenes, however, planners will recognize a more muddled process. This private process resembles less rational paradigms like the garbage can model and the Organization Comprehensive Model. The public should be empowered to see the difference and react appropriately.
What is the Rational Comprehensive Model? We might recognize RCM in the general sequence of purportedly rational steps that the powers that be took to get to their decision. In Smart Choices: A Practical Guide to Making Better Life Decisions, authors Hammond, Keeney, and Raiffa describe the process for making well-grounded decisions in a rational manner. Their process is as follows: a unified party recognizes the problem, develops solutions, identifies the trade-offs among the solutions using selected criteria, and then ultimately picks the remaining solution as the most rational choice. UC Berkeley and the City of Berkeley followed a very similar process to come to their final decision.
In this example, the problem the City and University seek to solve is clear to any outsider: Berkeley and the greater Bay Area faces an extreme housing crisis. A sub-crisis of student housing is “driving up rents and displacing long-time Berkeley residents” (Dinkelspiel 2021). Leaders are paying attention. Upon taking office in 2017, Chancellor Christ committed to doubling the number of university beds in the housing system within 10 years. She has made public her view that the university holds responsibility to address this issue and increase the supply of the below market-rate housing in the area (Kell, 2022).
To address this problem, the university formed a Housing Task Force in 2017 to “enumerate and evaluate potential sites for development …[and] establish criteria that should guide decision making around the development of housing” (Christ et al. 2017). In essence, the task force followed what Graham identified as the RCM process: they established alternatives to the problem and then identified criteria to evaluate the alternatives. This sequence imbues the solution with a sense of rationality and thoroughness.
Another hallmark of RCM, according to Graham Allison of Harvard Kennedy School, is a unified front. In his essay, Essence of Decision: Cuban Missile Crisis, Allison describes how parties involved in RCM are unified and are taking the rational path forward. He further explains that rationality is derived from the unified party’s preferences, and these preferences then dictate and justify their decisions. The institutions at the heart of the People’s Park decision, including the Mayor and UC Berkeley Chancellor, are certainly presenting a unified front to the public.
While Mayor Arreguín and Chancellor Christ serve as representatives for the City and the University respectively, they maintain that the two of them – and the two entities they represent – are wholly united in the management and the success of this project. Chancellor Christ said in a UC Berkeley press release, “We are thrilled and humbled by the coming together of this new alliance in support of a new People’s Park…Together, we will provide a true win-win-win …” (Kell 2022). Similarly, Mayor Arreguín said that the “partnership that’s formed is dedicated to solving critical issues facing the city and campus, and to doing so together” (Kell 2022). These leaders project confidence. Confidence fosters trust. The Mayor and Chancellor may hope that their unified approach will generate goodwill for the project among the public.
By presenting a unified front and displaying their rationality, the University and the City would garner public support for this contentious project. The private decision-making process, however, is riddled with power jockeying and inconsistencies. Here, planners recognize another decision-making model: the garbage can process. In this process identified by J.G. March, solutions beget problems, and not the other way around. That is, the City and UC Berkeley seized on People’s Park—the asset and potential solution—and crafted it to respond to the problem and context at hand.
In the People’s Park project, critics of the plan believe that the university always planned on developing People’s Park despite publicly identifying and analyzing alternatives because “an unspoken justification for UC’s dorm is to displace homeless people who hang out at the Park” (Montigue 2021). Many locals say that while they support building more student housing, their central argument against this plan is that they do not think the university examined all their developmental options before ultimately deciding on the park. These critics list the Chancellor’s Mansion, the former site of Tollman Hall, and Clark Kerr campus as viable sites. These were not considered in the housing analysis. Instead, the critics believe that UC Berkeley is intentionally engaging in forced removal of the park’s residents by zeroing in on People’s Park without giving a good enough explanation for why it is being developed over the other options they analyzed–and the options they overlooked.
Planners might recognize another decision-making process at work: Allison’s Organization Comprehensive Model (OCM). In this model, participants influence decisions through political gamesmanship. Those in positions of power bargain for the best-case scenario for their interests. While the University and the City put on a united front for the public, there is an underlying power-struggle and negotiation between the two entities that ultimately resulted in this decision.
UC Berkeley and the City of Berkeley signed a 2021 agreement that succinctly relates their negotiated outcome. The University agreed to pay the City $82.64 million over the next 16 years. This sum of money would support City services and various city-related projects. In exchange, the City agreed to withdraw from two lawsuits they are involved in with the University over enrollment and development issues. The city will also not go forward with their plans of filing a lawsuit for a separate issue, nor will they oppose the People’s Park housing project (Dinkelspiel 2021). This latter piece of the agreement is critical for the University. It guarantees the City’s support for UC Berkeley’s highly contentious project and others like it down the line.
In the case of the People’s Park project, the Chancellor and the Mayor are not the amiable partnership they project to the public. The two institutions, often at odds, engaged in a series of political back-and-forth’s to get the best-case scenario for their respective parties. The City gets a large monetary sum as well as a win for the mayor’s legacy. This project does add more affordable housing, and voters in Berkeley see this as a priority.
The University benefits from the agreement because expanding enrollment is a means to increase tuition revenue. Tuition revenue is critical because it accounts for 31% of the campus’ total funds, while state funding only provides 12% of the school’s funds (“People’s Park and the Future of the Public University” 2022). Currently, the university is $2 billion in debt (Dinkelspiel 2022), so more revenue from students, particularly from international students and out-of-state students who pay three times more than in-state students, is an appealing incentive. Because a higher capacity for more beds on campus justifies increased enrollment, getting the support of the project from the city has future monetary payoffs for the school.
The impression of rationality gives people comfort. Officials hoped the community would believe this decision was rational, practical, and thoughtful if they presented it as a unified front and offered several alternatives. Behind the scenes we find a better explanation for this decision. People’s Park presented a solution, and they matched it to the housing problem. Along the way, the University and the City both accrued perks.
The public should be aware of this discrepancy between the public and private decision-making processes for the People’s Park housing project. It offers a helpful reminder that “players who make government decisions…” do not make them “…by a single rational choice but by the pushing and pulling that is politics” (Allison 1999).
Citations
“About Berkeley | University of California, Berkeley.” n.d. Accessed September 29, 2022. https://www.berkeley.edu/about.
Allison, G. T. and P. Zelikow (1999). Essence of Decision: Explaining the Cuban Missile
March, J. G. (1997). “Understanding How Decisions Happen in Organizations”. In: Organizational Decision Making. Ed. by Z. Shapira. Cambridge University Press, pp. 9–32.
Kathryn is a first year Master’s student with the Department of City and Regional Planning whose interests include climate change adaptation, parks, and public space. She studied Environmental Studies at Williams College, and before coming to graduate school, she was in the San Francisco Bay Area managing sustainability projects for a law school. When not in class, she enjoys reading, running, and checking out all of the many concert venues the Research Triangle has to offer.
Edited by Lance Gloss
Featured image: People’s Park. Credit: Jeff Chiu (AP)
Looking for some podcasts to listen to while walking to class, doing chores, or avoiding homework? Check out some of our favorite urbanist (or urbanist-adjacent) podcasts and featured episodes below. And if you’re looking for, even more, our September 2020 post includes a few more recommendations.
99% Invisible 323- The House that Came in the Mail Again Design is everywhere in our lives, perhaps most importantly in the places where we’ve just stopped noticing. 99% Invisible is a weekly exploration of the process and power of design and architecture.
Starting in 1908, the company that offered America everything, Sears, began offering what just might be its most audacious product line ever: houses.
Decoder Ring (Slate Podcasts) The Mall is Dead (Long Live the Mall) Decoder Ring is a show about cracking cultural mysteries. In each episode, host Willa Paskin takes a cultural question, object, or habit; examines its history; and tries to figure out what it means and why it matters.
In this episode, author Alexandra Lange explains the atriums, escalators, and food courts of the singular suburban space of the mall.
How to Save a Planet (Gimlet) Make Biking Cool (Again)! Join us, journalist Alex Bumberg and a crew of climate nerds, as we bring you smart, inspiring stories about the climate change mess we’re in and how we can get ourselves out of it.
In this episode, the hosts look at how cycling developed its dorky reputation and counter it with some propaganda of their own.
Next City (Straw Hut Media) The Business That’s Owned by an Idea Each week Lucas Grindley, executive director at Next City, will sit down with trailblazers to discuss urban issues that get overlooked. At the end of the day, it’s all about focusing the world’s attention on the good ideas that we hope will grow.
This episode discusses Artisan Firebrand Bakery, an Oakland bakery owned by a “perpetual purpose trust” where the majority owner is the business’ mission itself.
Created and hosted by award-winning journalist Farai Chideya, Our Body Politic is unapologetically centered on reporting on not just how women of color experience the major political events of today, but how they’re impacting those very issues.
This episode features author Dr. Marisa Franco, who shares insights on the mental and physical benefits of social interactions and community building and how in times of loneliness, people are prone to inadvertently sabotage these critical bonds.
Outside’s longstanding literary storytelling tradition comes to life in audio with features that will entertain, inspire, and inform listeners.
This episode presents the story of a very enterprising librarian who came to a struggling town in Maine and took action on a novel idea: What if, in addition to loaning books, we started lending outdoor gear?
Jeff Wood of The Overhead Wire interviews public officials and advocates about transportation and urban planning policy.
This episode features Dr. V Kelly Turner, Director of Urban Environment Research at UCLA’s Luskin Center for Innovation, and covers how to think about, measure, and regulate urban heat.
The War on Cars brings you news and commentary on the latest developments in the worldwide fight to under a century’s worth of damage wrought by the automobile and to make cities better.
In this episode, the hosts take a look back at author Ray Bradbury’s dystopian vision in his short story “Pedestrian” and talk about how walking contributes to our essential humanity, and what we lose when we build environments that make it impossible for people to walk.
Technopolis is a podcast from CityLab about how cities are changing with new technology.
In this episode, the hosts have a discussion with John Zahurancik from Fluence Energy and Rushad Nanavatty of Rocky Mountain Institute on renewable energy for future cities.
What else should we be listening to? Share your recommendations in the comments below!
Emma Vinella-Brusher is a third-year dual degree Master’s student in City and Regional Planning and Public Health interested in equity, mobility, and food security. Born and raised in Oakland, CA, she received her undergraduate degree in Environmental Studies from Carleton College before spending four years at the U.S. Department of Transportation in Cambridge, MA. In her free time, Emma enjoys running, bike rides, live music, and laughing at her own jokes.
In anticipation of Volume 47 of the Carolina Planning Journal coming out next month, this week we are featuring another book review from Volume 46, The White Problem in Planning. Veronica Brown reflects on Peter L’Official’s Urban Legends: The South Bronx in Representation and Ruin.
Book Review by Veronica Brown
A few televised moments speak to their era so well that they surpass television history and stand in for an entire period in American history. Surely the 1988 World Series, in which the camera panned from Yankee Stadium to a burning building in the South Bronx as Howard Cosell announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Bronx is burning,” is such a moment. Except for the fact that Cosell never said his most famous line. Peter L’Official debunks this story in the introduction to Urban Legends: The South Bronx in Representation and Ruin, an exploration of how during the late twentieth century, various media constructed a South Bronx that stood in for both the concept of urban decline and for the place itself. When presidents visited the rubble of Charlotte Street, as L’Official writes, they “did not visit the ‘South Bronx’ as much as they did the site of the nation’s shorthand for urban ruin” (129). Through thoughtful analysis of the period’s visual art, books, and movies, L’Official provides a necessary reexamination of the South Bronx’s history that also serves as a compelling argument that places are constructed not only through plans but through their artistic representations.
In the strongest two chapters of the book, L’Official pairs the photographs of Jerome Liebling and Roy Mortenson and the conceptual work of Gordon Matta-Clark with examples of what he terms “municipal art” (14), or work with a function that is bureaucratic as much as aesthetic. This “art, at work” (46) includes the Department of Finance’s project to photograph every lot in New York City from 1983 to 1987 in order to standardize the city’s tax assessment system. In this “administrative mode” (77) of photography, life emerges at the corners of straight-on photos of South Bronx buildings caught in the process of abandonment. Passersby move from one photo to the next as the city photographer progresses down the block. Situating these tax photos within a rich tradition of artists depicting urban ruin, including through conceptual photography, L’Official creates a “dual-purposed ethic of viewership” (76). This mode of looking considers the art-historical canon as well as sociopolitical upheaval in the urban environment. In another inspired pairing, L’Official uses the work of Gordon Matta-Clark and the Occupied Look program, two forms of urban trompe l’oeil, to demonstrate how perception and perspective shaped understandings of the South Bronx. Through Occupied Look, the actual windows of abandoned buildings were covered with panels with painted-on windows. Occupied Look presents itself as an easy subject for derision, but L’Official rejects cynical mockery, instead comparing the initiative to Gordon Matta-Clark’s building cuts in the Bronx Floors series. L’Official’s deft exploration of these various artistic interventions in Bronx abandonment proves municipal art projects as worthy of analysis and also figures the period’s conceptual artists as key urban theorists of twentieth-century decline.
In later chapters, L’Official turns to popular media depictions of the South Bronx, including books and movies, and continues to home in on well-chosen details. In a particularly gratifying turn, the main character of Abraham Rodriguez’s Spidertown (1993) has a scavenged Occupied Look window mounted on his bedroom wall, literally reversing the direction of the faux portal and co-opting its furtive purpose as he hides his cash behind the panel. The 1981 films Fort Apache, the Bronx and Wolfen each center on Charlotte Street, a block sufficiently metonymic for urban distress that Jimmy Carter staged a photo opportunity there when he visited the borough in 1977. In Fort Apache, the Bronx, both character and setting assume the identity of Charlotte Street. Pam Grier, the ultimate blaxploitation star, plays a sex worker named after the street. The film received significant protests from the local organization Committee Against Fort Apache, which argued that the film was reductive and offensive. Charlotte Street, however, had become a studio backdrop rather than a neighborhood with residents, a transformation made clear through the construction of a new building that appeared to be burnt-out for the production of Wolfen. Although L’Official does not extend his analysis of Charlotte Street to Ed Logue’s zealous development of the corridor into a row of single-family homes in 1987, recently detailed in Lizabeth Cohen’s Saving America’s Cities (2019), the aestheticization of the street through its movie appearances demonstrates why the American aesthetic ideal of the white-picket fence would be all the more appealing as a solution to the borough’s problems.
Full of both rich detail and exciting ideas, Urban Legends is an enjoyable book for any audience interested in the South Bronx, but the book provides a particularly important meeting ground for urban planners and historians of visual culture. As L’Official argues, the South Bronx “has been hard to ‘see’ clearly beneath the layers of myths, stereotype, and urban legend” (245). Urban planners have historically failed to see the Bronx and used its representation to obscure a clear vision of countless Black and Latinx urban neighborhoods across the country. This pattern has fostered rampant exploitation of these neighborhoods, including current gentrification and displacement in the South Bronx. What is perhaps most useful for planners to take from Urban Legends is an understanding of how representations will continue to construct the space. When L’Official asks “What vision of the Bronx will live on” (247), planners should recognize this vision will not only be constituted through their efforts but also through art and popular media.
Find Volume 46 of the Carolina Planning Journal online here.
Veronica Brown is a 2021 graduate of the Master’s of City and Regional Planning program. She received her undergraduate degree from Smith College, where she studied the psychology of contemporary visual culture. Before coming to UNC, Veronica worked in communications at the Whitney Museum of American Art.
For the better part of a century in the United States, exclusion, restriction, and fastidiousness were core values within the accepted best practices around zoning and development. While national trends seem to slowly be reversing course toward less aggressive regulation of uses and limitations on density, the built, legal, and economic environment in communities across the country strongly reflect this history. Even in places that actively seek to be bastions of progressive culture and policy, the legacy of older philosophies persists. And the most severe and obvious of these reflections is the current crisis of affordability in housing.
As a small town with a consciously welcoming culture adjacent to the state’s flagship university, Carrboro, NC, is emblematic of this wider trend. Despite broad community consensus on the need for affordable housing for all residents, housing prices have risen faster than median incomes for decades and new housing construction has been outpaced by population growth for just as long. Carrboro has not been idle in the face of this problem; many policy initiatives have been attempted to address the scarcity of affordable homes. But due to more significant dynamics within the town and the country, these solutions have consistently come up short either in design or implementation.
In an effort to explore and address this archetypical wicked problem, this project from 2021’s course on Zoning For Equity uses mapping, statistics, legal analysis, and investigative journalism to determine why affordable housing is so difficult to come by in an environment so seemingly amenable to its creation. Through the medium of ArcGIS StoryMap, Feel Free (To Be Cost Burdened) describes the background of Carrboro’s housing crisis, the most notable attempts that have been made to address it, and the trends and policies that continue to negate the impacts of those attempts. The StoryMap then goes beyond analysis by offering a suite of potential solutions, ranging from immediate and practical tweaks to Carrboro’s zoning code to grand reworkings of America’s conception of the relationship between property rights and human rights.
In addition to existing as a static artifact of research, Feel Free (To Be Cost Burdened)has entered the world of planning politics in its own right; Its creators presented it to both the Orange County Board of Health and the Carrboro Affordable Housing Advisory Board in early 2022. Hopefully, this project can be revisited and revised to reflect breakthrough successes in Carrboro’s fight for housing affordability in the near future.
Henry Read is a Master’s student in the Department of City and Regional Planning, with a focus on land use policy. He is fascinated with the minutia of development regulation and doesn’t understand why so many people think zoning is boring. He hopes to work in the public sector after graduation, and would like to be remembered as the guy who got your town to stop requiring bars to have customer parking and start planting native fruit trees in parks.
Edited by Jo Kwon
Featured image: Feel Free (To Be Cost Burdened) StoryMap
This week, we are featuring another book review from Volume 46 of the Carolina Planning Journal, The White Problem in Planning. Nora Louise Schwaller reflects on Conor Dougherty’s Golden Gates: Fighting for Housing in America.
Book Review by Nora Louise Schwaller
There is no state where an individual working a full-time minimum-wage job can afford a one-bedroom housing unit without paying in excess of 30% of their income, the standard benchmark for affordability. While stagnant wage growth has contributed to this issue, an increasing imbalance between supply and demand in the housing market is a major feature of the problem. In Golden Gates: Fighting for Housing in America, Conor Dougherty focuses on the ever-growing housing shortage by sharing stories from those living in the cities of the Bay Area, California. In doing this, Dougherty lends insight into the economics, laws, history, and human experiences behind the rising housing prices and reasons why ‘The Rent is Too Damn High’.
Dougherty is well suited to this task. He is both a Bay Area native and current resident. He works as an economics reporter for the New York Times, focusing on the West Coast, real estate, and wage stagnation. His experience allows him to write with both the sober perspective of a researcher and the insight of someone who has lived in the midst of this evolving crisis. This background gives him credible authority to note that he has never seen it quite so bad.
In San Francisco, the average rent for a 1-bedroom apartment is $2,650. Dougherty delves into the history of how we got here with clear-sighted nuance. The real-life characters in his book veer to polarized ends of the debate (e.g., affordable housing advocates who don’t want to see developers make a profit, or local residents who use racist dog-whistle comments to discuss the “horrors” of new housing construction). However, Dougherty balances the risks of displacement and homelessness with the practicalities of having the means to make money in and from a competitive housing market. In doing so, he gives fair consideration to those who often become the local villains of housing scarcity – the techies in their Google Buses, the developers, and suburban natives – by contextualizing them in the biases and incentive structures of local governments that often limit dense construction.
Dougherty anchors his book with Sonja Trauss, the founder of the Yes in My Back Yard (YIMBY) activism movement. The book begins with her first appearance at a public hearing where she spoke in favor of more housing just about anywhere in the Bay Area. She was nearly 30 then, an economics PhD drop-out oscillating between teaching math and working at a local bakery. At this time of her life, she was long on passion but short on concentration – with a list of discarded hobbies that included weight lifting, role playing games, and participating in comedy troupes. Affordable rent advocacy focused her, and before long, she was showing up at any public hearing on residential construction, from affordable mid-rises to high end apartments, asking them to build anything so long as it was more.
Her organization, coined San Francisco Bay Area Renters Federation (SF BARF), gave a voice to the disparate group of people who were hurt by the non-building of homes that they could have lived in, or that could have at least put downward pressure on rents. This was a marked shift in housing advocacy that expanded the conversation around new construction far beyond local residents and the project developers, the typical stakeholders. Her ‘build everything’ position, habit of inserting herself in local fights, and colorful comments put her at odds with traditional affordable housing non-profits, local residents, city councils, and developers. But her movement was designed to get attention, and she succeeded in attracting local reporters and big time donors.
While Dougherty does an admirable job noting the privilege of the YIMBY movement, which is predominantly white and often funded with tech money, this is not the main focus of the book. Still, he contrasts SF BARF with an impactful chapter covering advocacy by and for low-income service industry employees, who are often at the greatest risk of displacement. This includes an in-depth story centered on an apartment building that was bought and flipped in a majority Hispanic neighborhood. Through this process, Dougherty describes the actions and perspectives of the developers, the residents who suddenly found themselves faced with $1,000+ increases in monthly rent, the residents’ children, and local activists and charities. This chapter is reminiscent of influential reporting from the turn of the 19th century, such as the work captured in How the Other Half Lives by Jacob Riis, or mid-century activism work, such as The Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs. However, in this ending, the Robert Moseses of the world carry the day.
Dougherty makes clear that the housing shortage, and the displacement, homelessness, and inequity that follows it, calls for a human rights discussion centered on the conscience of the nation. While he discusses solutions such as imposing rent control, reducing building restrictions, changes to the building industry, and increasing multi-family zoning, they do not form the central thesis of the book. Instead, GoldenGates ends on how the housing crisis is, in many ways, about what we are willing to provide for those of us who have the least when it comes at the cost of those with more affluence and power. These moral questions are contrasted with the mismatch of incentives for addressing wide-spanning issues at the local level when the responsibility for the problem is diffused across states, countries, or even the global population. This point is captured by Steve Falk, a city planner for Lafayette, California, who resigned in the face of resident outrage during discussions on increasing density near a BART (light-rail transit) stop: “All cities – even small ones – have a responsibility to address the most significant challenges of our time: climate change, income inequality, and housing affordability” (116).
Golden Gates is on Time’s list of 100 Must-Read Books of 2020, is an Editor’s Choice of the New York Times, and is on Planetizen’s list for Top Urban Planning Books of 2020. These accolades are well deserved. The book is accessible to readers working outside of this subject area, and interesting to those, such as planners, working within it. Even housing scholars will find new insights and unfamiliar stories, while those without such a background will be able to pick it up and find themselves invested in the intricacies of local planning and the friction of the democratic process.
Find Volume 46 of the Carolina Planning Journal online here.
Nora Louise Schwaller is a PhD candidate at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill in the Department of City and Regional Planning, and a registered architect in the state of North Carolina. Her research interests focus on migration, climate change adaptation, and equitable recoveries.
This memo provides a brief summary of the history and background of zoning laws, both federally and within the state of North Carolina, as well as the impacts of NC’s current exclusionary zoning status quo on housing affordability, economic opportunity and development, racial and class disparities, as well as its environmental consequences. This memo also addresses counter arguments raised by proponents of exclusionary zoning practices, and specific measures the NC General Assembly can take to eliminate exclusionary zoning within the state.
Background
“Zoning” broadly refers to the range of land-use regulations designed to restrict the types of buildings that can be built on certain parcels of land as well as their design, height, size, and use. The most common residential zoning in NC, as well as much of the United States, is R1 zoning. R1 zoning only permits low-density, single family detached homes. Outside of formal zoning, other regulations exist, including parking minimums, maximum height limits, setback requirements, and minimum lot sizes. All of these regulations often work to promote low-density, urban sprawl.
In contrast, “upzoning” refers to liberalizing existing zoning regulations to permit higher density construction and potentially mixed-use development. Other states, such as California, as well as many municipalities (including Portland, Oregon and Minneapolis, Minnesota), have implemented upzoning policies. Upzoning can look radically different from place to place, as some municipalities only permit the development of duplexes or additional dwelling units (ADUs), while others go further to allow much higher density construction in what were originally R1 areas.
The History of Zoning
Zoning laws began cropping up throughout the United States beginning in the early 1900s, with the first being passed by the Los Angeles municipal government in 1908. In 1923, the North Carolina General Assembly (NCGA) permitted local city governments to develop zoning codes, and by the end of the century, a dozen NC cities had adopted such codes.[i] Zoning was supported and strengthened by the 1926 Supreme Court case Euclid v. Ambler, which established that local governments’ policing powers also encompass zoning powers. Beginning in 1934, when the Federal Housing Authority (FHA) was created, residential zoning was solidified by federal influence as the standard method of improving property values and ensuring only “desirable” development was permitted. As suburbanization spread and the “Baby Boom” population growth increased population density, zoning laws became increasingly common. By 1960, the majority of NC cities and towns had implemented zoning policies.[ii]
Zoning in Modern North Carolina
Modern zoning codes in NC, as in much of the United States, tend to be long and complicated. Local zoning codes, even for small cities and towns, typically exceed 100 pages in length. Zoning has also become increasingly powerful, as legislative changes and constitutional rulings have expanded the permissible uses of zoning codes to include aesthetics and historic preservation.
NC is somewhat unique compared to other states in that the state-level government has a considerable amount of power over localities, even when it comes to local zoning codes. In NC, local governments have no inherent power, all of their power is derived and permitted by the state government. The state government has granted broad authority to local governments to develop zoning laws; however, the state government also has a considerable history of interfering in local zoning conflicts.[iii] Attempts by Cabarrus County to zone based on school county were struck down by the NC’s Supreme Court on the grounds that the state-granted zoning authority did not explicitly include the ability to zone according to “efficient and adequate” provision of public facilities.
The NC state government also outlines strict procedures regarding the enactment and enforcement of local zoning laws. All rezoning attempts require a public hearing, two public hearing notices (with the exact dates specified), a review and comment period for the planning board, specifications for how many city council members must approve for a rezoning ordinance to pass, and a public statement explaining why rezoning is reasonable and within the public interest.
Housing Affordability
The connection between land-use policies and housing costs is hotly debated; however, there is compelling evidence that exclusionary zoning increases the costs of housing. At a theoretical level, exclusionary zoning restricts the supply of land that is available for construction, which — by extension — reduces the supply of housing. The argument follows that, if developers could build multifamily apartments without these supply constraints, housing stock would better match demand and prices would go down.
The empirical data on this relationship is broad and varied. Rothwell (2008) finds that upwards of 20% of the variation in metropolitan housing growth is attributable to anti-density regulation, and that these same regulations inflate housing prices during demand shocks.[iv] Quigley and Raphael (2003) find that every additional land-use regulation in California increases the prices of owner-occupied housing by 4.5% and increases the price of rental housing by 2.3%.[v] Glaeser and Gyourko (2005) exploits gaps between housing and construction costs to determine the role that land-use regulations play in increased housing costs in several metropolitan areas in the US.[vi] They argue that these regulations play a significant role in the inflation of housing costs, especially in New York City. Ihlanfeldt (2003) conducts a broad review of the literature on the association between land-use regulations and housing costs and finds mixed but compelling evidence that exclusionary zoning increases the cost of housing.[vii]
Upzoning is not a substitute for affordable housing policies targeted at low-income households; however, upzoning will be a necessary prerequisite for developing the affordable housing supply we need. These restrictive zoning laws often create the legal support for “NIMBY” (not-in-my-backyard) activism that opposes affordable housing construction on the grounds that these developments violate existing zoning regulations.
Racial Equity
This history of residential zoning is deeply tied to racial segregation. Zoning laws have historically been used to lock Black and other non-white populations out of economically dynamic areas, justified by white property owners arguing that the presence of Black residents would lower property values. Further, white urbanites feared the demographic changes that happened during the Great Migration, which motivated the implementation of explicitly racialized zoning laws. White homeowners used privately-held, government-supported covenants to prohibit homes in their neighborhood from ever being sold or rented to Black families.[viii] Even after the practice was legally prohibited in 1948, local white community members found extralegal ways to exclude non-white families. Their tactics included intimidation, threats, and even violence and firebombings of Black residences, all of which were overlooked by local authorities.[ix]
Although explicit racial segregation by law is no longer allowed, modern zoning restrictions still act as a form of de facto segregation. Single family zoning artificially inflates the costs of housing and prohibits alternative forms of housing to be constructed. This type of zoning is prevalent in economically prosperous suburbs, but the high housing costs lock out low-income families, who are often disproportionately Black or Brown. Even without racist intentions, single family zoning has racially disparate impacts. These impacts are not small, either. Economic opportunity research from Raj Chetty’s Moving to Opportunity study finds that moving low-income families to wealthier neighborhoods increases the likelihood of college attendance for children and increases children’s future earnings by 31%.
Beyond locking low-income people of color out of economic opportunity, single family zoning promotes environmental and public health inequalities. The history of toxic land-uses being permitted primarily near low-income, Black communities is well-documented.[x],[xi] This system is bolstered by a zoning policy that excludes large swaths of the local population from wealthier (and, by extension, healthier) communities. This inequity has serious impacts on the long-term health outcomes for low-income Black and Brown families. Racial minorities in the US have higher rates of asthma, lead exposure, certain cancers, and a wide range of other health problems related to environmental factors.[xii]
Environmental Impacts
Single-family zoning promotes and upholds inefficient land uses that incentivize urban sprawl. This sprawl has a wide range of environmental impacts, including impacts on water usage, energy efficiency, carbon emissions, and wildlife habitats. Suburban households, compared to both urban and rural households, produce the most carbon emissions.[xiii] Without legalizing denser urban environments, global climate change mitigation goals cannot be met.
Firstly, single-family zoning promotes the construction of large housing units, while actively prohibiting the construction of smaller housing units. The range of zoning regulations includes not only what type of housing gets constructed, but also minimum lot requirements, setback requirements, and parking minimums, all of which further encourage the use of more space. This increased lot size and house size per household increases the per capita carbon emissions of individuals.
Urban sprawl, especially in the United States, has also promoted urban design that necessitates individual car ownership. Transportation accounts for 29% of US carbon emissions, making it one of the biggest contributors to climate change.[xiv] In the US, much of this is driven by car dependency. Simply switching to electric vehicles, while certainly beneficial, is also not sufficient to address climate change concerns. The infrastructure needed to maintain car-centric design requires the extensive use of asphalt, energy-intensive batteries, and large swaths of land dedicated to parking and roads. Instead, allowing for denser development would encourage individuals to choose less energy and land-intensive transportation options, such as walking, bicycles, e-bikes, or public transit.
Climate change should be of utmost concern to the state of NC. Our coastlines are uniquely vulnerable to increased rates of natural disasters and increasingly intense storms. Hurricane Matthew killed 26 NC residents and cost NC $1.5 billion.[xv] Hurricane Florence in 2018 killed 15 NC residents and resulted in $22 billion in damages.[xvi] As these types of weather events become increasingly common and more severe, NC needs to take preventative measures by decreasing our carbon footprint. Fundamentally changing our urban design to become more dense and incentivizing alternative transportation methods is one of the most important tools that we have for combating climate change.
Population Growth
NC has seen the sixth largest population increase over the last decade, with most of this increase attributable to net migration from other states.[xvii] The State Demographer projects that 84% of population growth over the next nine years will be from net migration. Much of this population growth is driven by the placement of high profile companies in NC’s two major urban centers: Charlotte and Raleigh-Durham.
The geography of NC’s population is also shifting, causing further pressure to build more housing in urban centers. More and more individuals are living in urban areas, much of this change driven by inmigration. The state of NC should target Wake County, Durham County, Mecklenburg County, Guilford County, and Forsyth County to a.) propel the construction of new units to accommodate newcomers and b.) preserve existing affordable housing to prevent gentrification and displacement.
Arguments for Exclusionary Zoning
One concern is that upzoning will not meaningfully address the need for affordable housing.[xviii] The housing that would primarily be permitted would be market-rate, and therefore not accessible to the poorest members of the community. Upzoning is not enough, and as such, my proposal ties upzoning legislation from the NC state government to directives for local governments to substantially increase their housing costs based on market studies. Furthermore, my proposal includes affordable housing mandates based on local needs. Upzoning is a necessary prerequisite for creating the housing abundance NC needs in the coming years.
An additional concern over upzoning is a fear of gentrification. The research on the role of upzoning in gentrifying urban centers is mixed.[xix] However, urban economic research indicates that a “filtering” effect occurs over time.[xx], [xxi] As new, market-rate housing units are constructed, the older housing in the area becomes more affordable and prevents displacement by directing wealthier individuals to these new units. This is not a complete solution for the problems of affordable housing, however, it can still provide increasing housing affordability for middle class individuals and potentially reduce demand for lower-income units.
The Policy Solution
To address the above problems facing NC, I recommend that the NC General Assembly pass Senate Bill 349 alongside two amendments: 1.) require local governments to tie housing construction to market study predictions of demand, and 2.) require all private developers to set-aside 10% of units as affordable housing units for those making 50% AMI.
Implementing this policy is a necessary and meaningful first step to pushing NC into the future. These reforms will increase housing affordability as well as the supply of affordable housing, allowing more households to access economic opportunities in NC’s urban centers. These reforms will also act to reduce NC’s carbon footprint, moving NC away from car-centric infrastructure to more dense, sustainable development. Finally, removing these exclusionary zoning ordinances is a necessary step towards racial equity and expanding economic opportunity to all.
[x] Taylor, D.E. (2014). Toxic communities : environmental racism, industrial pollution, and residential mobility. New York University Press: New York, NY.
[xi] Rothstein, R. (2017). The Color of Law: A forgotten history of how our government segregated America. Liveright Publishing: New York, NY.
[xii] National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine; Health and Medicine Division; Board on Population Health and Public Health Practice; Committee on Community-Based Solutions to Promote Health Equity in the United States; Baciu A, Negussie Y, Geller A, et al., editors. (January 2017). Communities in Action: Pathways to Health Equity. Washington (DC): National Academies Press (US), The State of Health Disparities in the United States.
Elijah Gullett is a fourth-year undergraduate student majoring in Public Policy with minors in Urban Studies and Environmental Justice. His academic interests include fair and affordable housing, sustainable development, and LGBTQ+ urban life.
Edited by Cameron McBroom-Fitterer
Featured image: Redlining map in Durham, NC. Courtesy of National Archives and Records Administration.
In response to the post-2008 housing crisis, a pro-building, pro-development movement, often referred to as “Yes-In-My-Backyard” (YIMBYs), has grown significantly over the last few years. Self-titled YIMBY organizations (some more formal than others) have popped up across US cities to advocate for the abolition of “exclusionary” (single family) zoning, as well as other state and local regulations that slow the development process.[i] The regulations they oppose vary, but typically include parking minimum requirements, building height restrictions, community input requirements, and historical preservation review boards. YIMBYs argue that exclusionary zoning increases the price of housing and furthers class and racial segregation.
On the other hand, there are more “traditional” housing justice activists who focus their energies on affordable housing programs, anti-displacement, anti-gentrification, and tenant organizing.[ii] Housing justice advocates and YIMBYs have often found themselves at odds, with YIMBYs supporting the construction of “luxury” developments as a way to increase overall housing supply. Housing justice advocates often find themselves at the other end, protesting the construction of luxury housing, arguing that these developments propel gentrification forward and do not contribute at all to housing affordability.
In this piece, I argue that housing justice advocates and YIMBY activists need one another, and that each other’s positions are strengthened by the inclusion of the other. Previous attempts to create affordable housing and prevent displacement have often floundered, so it only makes sense that a new approach would be presented. Synthesizing these two approaches can help create a pragmatic and effective movement for affordable housing.
Where do they differ?
Housing justice activists often deride YIMBYs for their “neoliberal” approach to affordable housing, suggesting that YIMBYs believe increasing the supply of market-rate housing will be sufficient to solve the affordable housing crisis.[iii] YIMBYs criticize traditional housing activists for halting housing development and being “NIMBYs” (Not-In-My-Backyard) activists. Eric Adams, the New York City Democratic mayoral candidate, recently derided anti-gentrification activists for protesting new housing developments, arguing that this seeming hypocrisy is part of the problem of affordable housing in NYC.[iv]
Where do they converge?
The goals of housing affordability, sustainable urban development, safe streets, and transit diversity cannot be achieved without broad coalitions; despite their different ideologies, both sides fundamentally need each other for the subsequent reasons.
Firstly, and most importantly, affluent NIMBY homeowners who oppose all new housing construction (affordable or market-rate/“luxury”) are central to stalling new housing. Affluent, older individuals who have the finances and stability to attend town hall meetings regularly have far more sway over local decision-making. This pattern isn’t just anecdotal: research[v] indicates that the individuals who are more likely to attend local political meetings are not representative of their own communities. They are typically white, wealthier people who are disproportionately homeowners.
This reality poses a stark problem for affordable housing advocates, regardless of their more specific positions. Renters, who have the most to gain from increased housing supply and affordable housing production, are highly underrepresented in local democratic proceedings.[vi] They are less likely to live in the same place for long periods of time, they do not pay property taxes directly, and they are excluded from homeowners’ associations that give local community members so much leverage in political decision-making.
The underrepresentation of renters -the people most directly impacted by affordable housing policies – makes it all the more necessary for YIMBYs and housing justice advocates to work in tandem. On their own both sides are doomed to fail in the face of this entrenched power dynamic, but together they can create a sustainable movement for housing affordability. Furthermore, building this local political power provides the capacity for future tenant organizing to prevent evictions and displacement, and give tenants more leverage over landlords.
Also, the two sides’ policies often depend on each other. For example, local housing justice advocates across the country fight in favor of new affordable housing construction, but these projects are often shut down by local NIMBYs. Affordable housing faces other problems too: local governments may try to shut down housing along racist and classist lines through targeted rezoning,[vii] and the often arduous process of affordable housing permitting and construction disincentivizes building new affordable units.[viii] In these cases, the YIMBY policy toolkit is vital. Reducing permitting and land-use regulations and easing the process of residential development can make all the difference.
That being said, YIMBY advocates should engage more deeply with housing justice advocates’ criticisms. While data is beginning to show that new housing construction lowers nearby housing prices,[ix] this relationship is not fully solidified. A case study from Chicago found the opposite to be true, suggesting local context matters. Furthermore, the YIMBY argument about housing market “filtering” – where housing units that begin as market-rate become increasingly affordable as they age – does not appear to always hold.[x] Some housing markets, such as Los Angeles and Washington, DC, appear to filter “upwards,” and older units become more expensive. In these locations, market-based approaches are likely insufficient and should be supplemented with additional interventions.
Final Takeaways
America’s housing problems are huge and varied, ranging from a looming eviction crisis to broad housing unaffordability for renters, and will require a broad coalition of advocates to confront them.[xi] Under these circumstances, infighting amongst factions who both believe that more housing, whether affordable or market-rate, is necessary to address these issues is unwise. Instead, the two movements should work together to protect low-income renters and build towards a future with abundant housing for all.[xii]
Elijah Gullett is a fourth-year undergraduate student majoring in Public Policy with minors in Urban Studies and Environmental Justice. His academic interests include fair and affordable housing, sustainable development, and LGBTQ+ urban life.
Edited by James Hamilton
Featured image: YIMBY & tenant activists rally for and against SB827 in California. Courtesy of Joseph Smooke
Between 1935 and 1940, more than 200 cities in the United States were given Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (HOLC) “residential security” maps, which are more commonly known as “redlining” maps.
Redlining was the practice of designating neighborhoods in each city by one of four grades, which reflected the “mortgage security” of local borrowers. Neighborhoods receiving “A” were colored green on the maps and defined as the best or being of minimal risk for banks. “B” areas colored blue were still desirable, “C” as yellow were considered declining, and “D” colored red were deemed hazardous. These classifications were determined by data that included local housing quality, sale history, but most significantly, by racial and ethnic data. Because of this criteria, areas graded “C” or “D” often exhibited higher than average minority populations. Areas that graded below an “A” were frequently denied access to loans or mortgages, which prevented home purchase, investment, or improvement. If today’s city officials are to tackle the racial and class inequality that exists, it is paramount that they understand the long term effects of these maps. The following post will focus on a case study in Miami to illustrate the property value impacts of 1930s redlining.
Miami, similar to many metropolitan cities in the United States, received a redlining map in 1937. To better understand how Miami was impacted by redlining, I downloaded the historically redlined areas as polygons from the Digital Scholarship Lab at the University of Richmond through the Mapping Inequality website. I then overlaid these polygons on the 2020 parcel data of Miami. Next, I found the overlapping areas, carried over the relevant attributes, and made a visualization of the ghost of the redlining past (see Figure 1).
I then used R statistical software to determine if being redlined has had an effect on a parcel’s value per acre (VPA). For this study, parcels graded “A” or ”B” are referred to as non-redlined and “C” or “D” as redlined. I found that homes and other properties which were redlined have statistically significant (p < .001) lower VPAs compared to non-redlined homes. In fact, homes that were redlined have VPAs that are nearly $345,300 less than non-redlined parcels. This amount increases to a difference of $546,500 when controlling for a parcel’s distance to the central business district and the year it was built. For a more in-depth breakdown of property VPA by redline grade, see Figure 2 below. This means that a policy created and implemented in 1937 still has a significant impact on property owners 83 years later. To be clear, I am not claiming that redlining is 100% responsible for disinvestment in these neighborhoods. I am just calling attention to how past racist federal programs are continuing to impact communities to this day.
Figure 2. Violin graph of VPA by redline grade
There are four general takeaways that I would like readers to think about after seeing how redlined neighborhoods in Miami exhibit lower VPAs.
1. Property ownership and generational wealth transfer are two of the top ways to gain wealth in this country. By living in a neighborhood that was redlined, these children may inherit a less valuable home than families in non-redlined neighborhoods. This inability to pass down a home of increased value may be a product of 1930s era redlining and can further wealth disparities across this country.
2. Just this year, Scientific America named Miami as the “most vulnerable” coastal city in the world as it faces increases in flood severity and frequency across the city (Cusick 2020). With an increase in flooding, we can also expect an increase in more individuals relying on flood insurance and FEMA payouts to repair or rebuild their homes post disaster. Both of these aid sources base their funds distribution on a property’s current value. Hence, if you are living in a formerly redlined neighborhood, you are predisposed to lower payouts and homes may remain in greater disrepair than in non-redlined neighborhoods.
3. Having a lower property value places you at a higher risk of neighborhood gentrification. If a developer notices that your community can be bought out at a much lower price than surrounding areas, it’s possible that you may be displaced before others.
4. Ignoring the racial history of redlining and its continued effects is doing a disservice to the residents of these communities. Moreover, it stands to perpetuate racial wealth disparities and continued disinvestment in communities, which have been systematically disenfranchised.
As the research on the enduring impact of redlining continues, it is imperative that the findings are considered by a wide audience. Academics, private consultants, city officials, and community organizers should all be aware of the impacts that redlining has had on communities. This is reinforced by the fact that those currently affected by redlining were not even alive when the practice took place. Looking forward, I am hopeful that an increased understanding of redlining can bolster efforts to dismantle wealth inequality in this country. Lastly, redlining research is not the silver bullet for wealth inequality. To dismantle the systems that perpetuate inequality across our society, research, organization, and reparations of all forms must be sought.
Pierce Holloway is a first-year master’s student at the Department of City and Regional Planning with a focus on Climate Change Adaptation. Before coming to Chapel Hill he worked as a geospatial analyst for Urban3, working on visualizing economic productivity of communities and states. Through his coursework he hopes to explore the nexus between adaptation for climate change and community equitability. In his free time, he enjoys long bike rides, trail running, and any excuse to play outside.
