Thursday, July 30, 2015

Tips for Knowing Whether that Blue Crab is from Maryland and Virginia


It's official.  Virginia Governor Terry McAuliffe thinks Maryland's blue crabs should be called Virginia crabs.      

Yup, that's right, Virginia Governor Terry McAuliffe is not only making a play for Washington's football team (which plays in Largo, Maryland); he's now claiming bragging rights to the delicacy on which we Marylanders put our old bay.

How dare he?

Ok, he's Terry McAuliffe.  That's a dumb question.

A better question is how the purist Marylander can you tell if his or her blue crab is from Virginian?

Based on my misspent youth in Virginia, I've put together a handy dandy list of sure-fire signs your crab is from the Old Dominion.

A Virginia crab would...

  1. Like grits and think you're a communist for putting anything besides salt and butter on them.
  2. Expect the ice tea to be sweet
  3. Confuse paprika for Old Bay
  4. Re-enact the War Between the Crabs on the weekends.
  5. Drive like a maniac and blame it on Maryland and DC residents
  6. Brag about low taxes while complaining about the horrible condition of state roads
  7. Love Jesus and liquor
  8. Make you feel guilty for not loving Jesus enough
  9. Say 'bless your heart' instead of 'F*&K you! 
  10. Cast votes that confuse the heck out of the rest of the country

But never fear, Maryland and Virginia crabs will always set aside their differences to hate on West Virginia Catfish.      



Friday, July 24, 2015

Let's Talk about Gentrification and Race

In the last month the Washington Post has published 3 stories about race and gentrification.

The first detailed a man who put up anti-gentrification signs in his Brightwood yard.  When a Washington Post reporter asked him why he put the sings up he explained, "I don’t want people to come in and diminish the affordable housing stock for black Americans, because [black Americans] have nowhere else to go,   There are plenty of places for white Americans to go.”

The second detailed the changing demographics of DC's Chinatownn neighborhood.  Basically, Chinatown isn't very Chinese anymore.  Only 300 Chinese people live in the neighborhood, down from 3,000.  And, the last building still housing a significant number of Chinese people--many of them low income tenants--is up for sale.   

The third was a column in yesterday's paper by metro columnist Courtland Milloy.  Milloy observed that there is something vital missing from the revitalization of 14th Street--black people.

Although I usually avoid the comments sections on anything posted on the internet, the comments in these articles tell us a lot about how ordinary citizens view gentrification.

Some people don't want to acknowledge that gentrification involves racial change at all.  It's all about the money, they say.

Others think black folks are being whiny.  One commentator dismissed Milloy's article by saying "It [14th Street] was a complete sewer" before the millennials arrived.  Others think black folks are being racist--"Racism on public display" said one commenter on the Brightwood article.  

Still others look for the bright side.  Sure, black folks often end up leaving gentrifying areas, but they profit handsomely when they sell their houses for millions of dollars.  

Then, there are the people who come at it from left field.  A reader of the Chinatown article applauded the declining Chinese population as a sign of diversity--"We are seeing here the realization of President Obama's dream to integrate neighborhoods. Washington is becoming more diverse.  We should all celebrate that."

What should we make of all of this?  Or, put another way, what are the unspoken rules that govern how we can talk about gentrification?  From the comments sections of these three articles I see 3 informal rules in play:  First, most people acknowledge gentrification involves racial change (in DC that means a growing white population and a declining black one).  Second, black people shouldn't talk about it.  Third, if they do talk about it, they'll be sanctioned politely (e.g. by being reminded that they sold their houses for a profit) or impolitely (e.g. by being reminded what a mess their old neighborhood was before the white millennials arrived). In short, we can talk about gentrification, but we can't talk about gentrification and race. 

I think this is silly and unfair.  

People form attachments to place.  Black people do this.  White people do this.  So do Asians and Hispanics.  We all do it.  

My mom still lives in the house I grew up in.  There's been a lot of turnover in her neighborhood, but I still look at every house and remember the kid who lived in it when I was young.  Three houses down is "Benny's house."  Across the street from Benny is "Lawrence's house."  It doesn't matter that Benny and Lawrence moved out of the neighborhood before I graduated high school.  That's how I see those houses. 

The couple who owned the house my husband and I bought in Silver Spring once had the previous owner stop by for a visit.  The woman wanted to see what her old house looked like inside.  She'd loved the house and wanted to make sure it was still being taken care of.  

People fall in love with places--rooms, houses, streets, entire neighborhoods.  They become a map of our heart.  The place you had your first kiss, or the place you started a family.  So, we shouldn't be surprised that black people who grew up in, or lived in neighborhoods that used to be predominantly black feel vertigo, sadness, and even anger that their neighborhood isn't the same anymore.  

We also shouldn't be surprised that newcomers aren't always welcome.  The racial shifts that occur with gentrification don't happen in a void.  Gentrification isn't a random, value-neutral resorting of the population.  Historically, black people concentrated in cities (or certain neighborhoods in them) because they had little choice.  Redlining, landlord bias, and limited resources meant their housing choices were circumscribed.  These neighborhoods might not have been the places their residents would choose in a perfect world, but that's where they ended up. And, overtime, they made those places their own.  So, when the newcomers arrive, the 'old-timers' often feel like they're back to square one.  The place they made their own is suddenly no longer theirs.  They can't afford the higher rent their landlord wants to charge.  Or, they can't cover the new, higher property taxes.  Or, they can afford to stay but now feel out of place.     

Instead of ignoring, scolding, or deriding people unhappy with gentrification, we should have some empathy.  We've all felt a connection to a place.  Gentrification often rips that apart.  I know empathy alone won't solve the problems that accompany gentrification, but it's not a bad place to start.  Based on the comments sections of these three articles, it is in short supply.