I’ve
struggled over the last few weeks with what to write in this essay, it’s really
been haunting me. I feel embattled by culture and by my own feelings. I moved
here when I was still a teenager. Portland was exciting, new and even a bit
gritty. Things here were more rockabilly and less twee. I suppose it must have
been before the era of the IPA and brunch. To me it is not a surprise that a
recent national study found that Portland was the most gentrified city of the
century.
During my
first three years I saw our rent increase twice, which was not ideal but it
hadn’t priced me out of the neighborhood. As time wore one though, I witnessed
the distinct character of the Portland that I was enthralled by as a teenager
and young adult change. I would say that the change has been more drastic than
gradual.
In college
I learned what gentrification is and I also learned about the historical (and
perhaps continued) redlining of certain districts in Portland that systemically
disenfranchised the Black community. I would point out the Mississippi,
Alberta, Albina, and Irvington neighborhoods as specific and ongoing examples
of this gentrification.
What is (perhaps
to some) not surprising is that this is now happening to other neighborhoods all
around the city, mostly in Southeast but also much of the Downtown area is
becoming gentrified. I think gentrification is still a dirty word in Portland,
I swear it’s a conversation to clear a room or get looked at like you dropped a
couple of f-bombs.
However it
seems like now people care about it a little more now (see the somewhat
offensive “Le Tour de Gentrification” of last summer) and some recent articles
in local and regional papers. Perhaps this is because it’s not just happening
to the POC neighborhoods. Portland seems to be full of perennial White guilt
and avoidance of race-based discussion. But then, we have “Oh no, not our food carts”.
Anyway,
gentrification is happening all over the city to some extent as the city
government tries to attract new companies and higher-earning citizens to come
invest in Portland. Two examples of neighborhoods being gentrified that are
personal to me are the Stark street area downtown and Division Street in
Southeast.
The stretch
of Stark Street from what is now a McMenamin’s Crystal Palace to Living Room
Theatres was the gay street. It was colloquially known as Vaseline Alley or the
Pink Triangle. It is still home to the Roxy but also hosted five gay
establishments including the bathhouse that the McMenamin’s corporation turned
into a hotel/restaurant. There was
also a wonderful goth night at the Fez Ballroom which is also now closed. The
last gay bar on the street is Scandals, and there are rumors that it too will
be closing its doors soon.
As a queer
person, I used to hang out on this street. It felt like home. Sure it was a bit
wild and sometimes nasty, but it was familiar and safe. Now I don’t recognize
the street of pavement covered in bougie hipster coffee shops, eateries (one of
which whose owner has some questionable ethics) and the Ace Hotel. These new
places, they’re not built for my communities. They serve the influx of new
residents who move from places where these kinds of businesses are an expected
norm.
Now to
Division Street, which is a growing example of this norm. This stretch of asphalt
had been, for a long time, gritty and exciting but not so suburban. I remember
walking its lengths many times, past the porn theatre and various dive bars.
One of my favorite cafés was on Division. At this point the clientele has
changed so much that I do not feel comfortable or welcome in there anymore.
Along with
the demographic changes of the neighborhood, developers have lined lower
Division with condominium complexes, all with the same boxy style to where it’s
difficult to see where one ends and one begins. Parking has become an issue for
residents as tourists and others flock to the neighborhood to stand in line for
hours at the new Salt & Straw or browse the many pop-up boutiques.
The
neighborhood is becoming unaffordable to long-time residents and the new
businesses and living quarters that are being built are a harbinger of
this. The rents are ridiculous.
Just take a look at the prices of meals at the new restaurants, look at the
clothes people are selling or the cars lining the side streets. It’s not a
working-class or artistic community area anymore.
Two things
happened recently that really galvanized my desire to write this essay. I had a
conversation with a colleague of mine who was from Portland. We both used to
hang out at the same spots downtown when we were younger.
Talking
with her got us both nostalgic and we discussed how all the places we used to
frequent were either closed or were now so different that we didn’t recognize
them anymore. Some of our old haunts and activities included going to the two
underage clubs, smoking cigarettes in the back room of Anna Banana’s, staying
up ‘til 2am at Portland Coffee House on Broadway and Alder, dancing to salsa
and bachata at Andreas over on Belmont. Sadly, these are all fantasy of distant
memory now. A sports pub has replaced Andreas, and Portland Coffee House is now
called Public Domain, closing around 9pm and definitively no longer welcome to
the previous community of assorted freaks, students, street kids and artistic
types.
It is this
culture shift that I see in the Red & Black Café closing, the other recent
event that has contributed to this essay. While the owners of the café did not
specify why they are closing up shop, they did say that business took a nosedive
once the New Seasons market and Starbucks opened for business on the street.
The Red &
Black café has served many of our alternative communities in Portland for a
long time. I know them as a safe space away from bigotry and police violence as
well as functioning as type of community center for like-minded citizens. I
think what scares me the most about their closing is that to me, it signals a
visible shift in the politics of the city. I perceive Portland as becoming more conservative, a
neoliberal kind of conservative to be sure but we’re definitely not as radical
as we used to be.
It is
because of this shift in both demographics and politics that I fear for the
soul and character of this city. Many of us have lived here for so long and are
invested in the long-term health of our communities here, but when things
change so drastically and it becomes unwelcoming to us, especially for those of
us who are minorities, where are we supposed to go? Seattle, Oakland, Austin
and other similar areas aren’t much different.
This is why
gentrification matters to me, and why I won’t stop criticizing the Portland
city commission, the business commission or the mayor’s office. It’s why I
involve myself in writing, organizing and trying to fight bad policy that affects
our communities. I live here; this town raised me and taught me so much.
Gentrifiers
beware: We want our city back!
"Sure it was a bit wild and sometimes nasty, but it was familiar and safe."
ResponderEliminarLiving in a part of my town where gentrification is happening, too, I am having similar thoughts. It is not that I feel less safe, I just look at the new people and realize they just don't get what has been going on here before they came. They walk the streets as if they had invented the place.
I love your writing (and it is easier for me to comment here than on tumblr)
Paulina