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Gentrification of San Francisco - Wikipedia

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The gentrification of San Francisco has been an ongoing source of contention between renters and working people who live in the city and real estate interests. A subset of this conflict has been an emerging antagonism between longtime working-class residents of the city and the influx of new tech workers.

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The second theory proposed by London and Palen is based on a sociocultural explanation of gentrification. This theory argues that values, sentiments, attitudes, ideas, beliefs, and choices should be used to explain and predict human behavior, not demographics, or "structural units of analysis" (i.e., characteristics of populations) (London and Palen, 1984).

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How local governments stand up to their power over the lives of the residents to private interests

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How local governments stand up to their power over the lives of the residents to private interests

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To live in a city is to watch it change, sometimes quickly and in troubling ways. These changes, more often than not, are the product of decisions by city planners on which longtime residents often have little input or sway. This process is usually referred to with a commonly used term: gentrification. But there is no single answer to the questions of what gentrification really means, what causes it, who controls it, and how it actually changes neighborhoods and the people who live in them.

How to Kill a City: Gentrification, Inequality, and the Fight for the Neighborhood, a new book by the journalist Peter Moskowitz, brings some much-needed clarity to thinking about a slippery concept. "While urban renewal, the suburbanization of cities, and other forms of capital creation are relatively easy to spot (a highway built through a neighborhood is a relatively obvious event), gentrification is more discreet, dispersed, and hands-off," he writes. Moskowitz adds to the growing canon aimed at understanding and explaining the process of gentrification, and he not so subtly suggests that while gentrification naturally brings some improvements to a city,including more people and money, it also frequently kills some cultural traditions and diversity, the precise characteristics that make cities so dynamic and desirable in the first place.

Moskowitz tells of how gentrification has swept through some of America's biggest cities, writing case studies of Detroit, San Francisco, New York, and post-Katrina New Orleans. In each city, there are specific problems and circumstances that helped the process along, but it's striking how similar the choices made by politicians, business leaders, and developers and their effect on poor really are across the country. Gentrification, in each of these cities, dismantles and displaces existing neighborhoods and communities in order to make way for new residents who are mostly whiter, and always richer, than those who predate them. And the same choices seem to be made again and again.

While Moskowitz includes the important stories of those who called a neighborhood home long before coffee shops and luxury condos appeared, it's his outline of the systemic process of displacement that is the most devastating. He convincingly shows how the choices that a city and its government make in the name of a booming economy assign value to some residents and not others: From choices on where and how to fund affordable housing, to invest in public schools, to support new local businesses, but not old ones, the process that goes by the name "revitalization" is often something more pernicious.

In How to Kill a City' s section on New Orleans, Moskowitz highlights the uneven treatment of poor neighborhoods and rich ones in the post-Katrina period, noting that some who saw a need for economic revitalization have said that the storm cleared out some of the less desirable neighborhoods, leaving room for them to be rebuilt without as much concentrated poverty and blight. But they were also being rebuilt more slowly and in a way that ultimately left their previous residents adrift. On top of that, Moskowitz writes, changes to the city's basic services, particularly its school system, disadvantaged poorer families, who were burdened by undue amounts of paperwork. The city also dismantled the teacher's union, which had helped build part of New Orleans's black middle class.

In his chronicle of Detroit, Moskowitz shows how gentrification differs in a city that is steadily emptying out because of economic hardship rather than a natural disaster. He notes that in a 2010 attempt to recast the city as an urban center on the rise, rather than one facing a staggering financial failure, the city's mayor, Dave Bing, proposed shrinking the boundaries of Detroit in order to focus on the downtown area while cutting out the struggling outer ring. The idea, though it was shot down, has had long-lasting implications for how people conceptualize the city, Moskowitz argues, with developers, city planners, and corporations focusing most of their energy and money on a relatively small section of it. "The new Detroit is now a nearly closed loop," he writes, "It is possible to live in this new Detroit and essentially never set foot in the old one." And after filing for bankruptcy, the city's government has had less power to plot out the city's future, leaving it in the hands of developers and nonprofits, who may still have a somewhat limited view of what qualifies as Detroit.

San Francisco and New York, in many ways, have problems and opportunities that are the opposite of Detroit's. Instead of wanting to gin up economic growth in concentrated areas, residents there are struggling to contain it. As San Francisco becomes a hub for bigger, richer companies and their employees, the displacement of longtime residents has vastly outpaced any efforts at maintaining or creating affordable housing in the city. And despite stable economies, liberal leanings, and high involvement in municipal politics in both New York and San Francisco, policies that could potentially help poorer residents have been much slower to come and less robust than the influx of new private capital that devours neighborhoods and displaces residents. In just about every city Moskowitz examines, he finds that choices by city and state governments limited the creation of affordable housing and changed public-housing policies, giving poorer residents little refuge in increasingly expensive cities.

Ultimately, Moskowitz says that a big part of the problem when it comes to the unremitting pace of gentrification is that it is a process that often involves the investments and decisions of the private entities, including developers and big corporations, that decide to set up shop in new neighborhoods. In some ways, that's great for areas that are floundering, but when city leaders become too reliant on the plans and dollars of the private sector, the people who had been living and working in these neighborhoods all along have no one to look out for them and the lives they've built. Private organizations have different interests and responsibilities when it comes to making plans to spruce up a neighborhood. And that can mean that their investments don't happen an egalitarian manner, or benefit a diverse group of residents.

Regarding this point, Moskowitz writes:

Believing that hipsters can reverse the consequences of late-stage capitalism is a more attractive thought for city planners in cash-strapped cities than realizing that many American cities are, for now, screwed thanks to postindustrial decline and growing inequality. Gentrification may provide a new tax base, but it also reshapes what cities are, turning them into explicit supporters of inequality, reliant on it to self-fund, yet still unable to meet the needs of their poor. A real solution to the economics of American cities would require more work-more taxes, more laws, more intervention from the federal government. Those things are hard. Gentrification is easy.

Moskowitz says that while gentrification is a problem in just about every developed country in the world, its propensity to become a full-blown crisis in American cities has a lot to do with insufficient housing regulation. "In nearly every other industrialized nation besides the United States, there is near-consensus that purely private land markets will not meet the needs of the poor, and so measures have been taken to ensure that at least some land remains off the market or subject to regulations that make it affordable."

And in that vein, Moskowitz has some ideas for how to lessen the sting of gentrification: expanding and protecting access to public lands and giving residents more of a voice in the city via community boards and similar organizations, to name two possibilities. Moskowitz also wants cities to heavily regulate housing and to raise taxes, wages, and spending on the poor. He doesn't expect that all, or most, of these plans will come to fruition. But implementing any of them, he writes, would constitute progress.
Related Video

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The Steady Destruction of America's Cities

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To live in a city is to watch it change, sometimes quickly and in troubling ways. These changes, more often than not, are the product of decisions by city planners on which longtime residents often have little input or sway. This process is usually referred to with a commonly used term: gentrification.

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Group 4

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The Netherlands' second city is increasingly divided on plans to replace affordable homes with more expensive properties

On Thursday, Rotterdam city council will vote on whether to replace 20,000 affordable homes with 36,000 properties for middle- and upper-income households.

The vote is the latest step in the city's focus on "improving" neighbourhoods, by combining gentrification with rules preventing some low-income households from moving into poorer neighbourhoods.

Rotterdam, the Netherlands' second city, is an increasingly divided one: while many neighbourhoods around the centre are gentrifying and the city is a rising star on the international tourist map, it is also home to some of the country's poorest neighbourhoods.

Late last year, a diverse grassroots movement emerged to oppose the city's housing plans. A petition calling for a referendum obtained more than 13,000 signatures, resulting in a vote on 30 November.

But the odds were stacked against the referendum. While organisers wanted a vote on the potential disappearance of the 20,000 affordable housing units, the question they posed to Rotterdammers wasn't clear. the vague nature of the question: "Are you in favour or against Rotterdam's housing vision?" was likely to have discouraged many people from voting, because they didn't fully understand what they were voting for.

The city also stipulated a 30% turnout to validate the referendum. Because those in favour of the housing vision could win based on a low turnout, there was little incentive for the yes campaign, including the city's government, to encourage people to vote.

In the end, 72% voted against the housing vision. However, only 17% of the electorate voted, well below the required 30%. The council vote this Thursday, 15 December, is expected to ignore the referendum and find in favour of adopting the housing plans as official policy.

The grassroots campaign offers several insights for those dealing with gentrification in cities around the world. Tenants' associations, while active in initiating campaigns, need to do more to engage with people in their communities. Participation levels in these associations are very low in Rotterdam and a primary objective for this movement is better organisation of residents, particularly tenants in social rented housing.

Debates often focus on the positive side of gentrification, but it is a political issue over who has access to a city

However, on the positive side, because opposition and resistance was focused on a city-wide issue, rather than a specific development or estate, gentrification and displacement became major topics of conversation across the city.

Rather than it being an abstract academic or political debate about social justice or a fair city, the referendum was about specific housing plans which will affect tens of thousands of Rotterdammers for years to come. As a result, the question: "Whose city is Rotterdam?" was discussed in homes, community centres and cafes.

It was also a genuinely bottom-up initiative, spearheaded by local tenants' associations. The campaign connected a diverse group of people who all had connections to the issue of gentrification.

This is important because the organisers of the referendum have announced that they will protest against every demolition project in the next 15 years. As the referendum created widespread attention, it will be easier to mobilise more people to stand with them.

Rotterdam's housing referendum was initiated by those who rarely feature in mainstream and professional debates about the future of the city. Too often, these focus exclusively on the positive side of gentrification, but it is a political issue over who has access to a city.

As urban scholars who investigate the human cost of gentrification, we believe it is essential to connect diverse voices into coalitions to fight for a city that is open and accessible for all.
Brian Doucet is a senior lecturer at Erasmus University College. Sign up for your free Guardian Housing network newsletter with news and analysis sent direct to you on the last Friday of the month. Follow us: @GuardianHousing Marguerite van den Berg is an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Amsterdam. Gwen van Eijk is an assistant professor of criminology at Erasmus University Rotterdam. Topics

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Brian Doucet, Marguerite van den Berg, Gwen van Eijk

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Rotterdam's anti-gentrification movement must learn the lessons of its failed referendum

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The Netherlands' second city is increasingly divided on plans to replace affordable homes with more expensive properties On Thursday, Rotterdam city council will vote on whether to replace 20,000 affordable homes with 36,000 properties for middle- and upper-income households.

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Group 4

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As demographic data from the 2010 census starts to come in, it will show a startling trend - cities that have long been the African American capitals of the US are undergoing drastic change. On the south side of Chicago, in New York's Harlem, across New Orleans and in Washington DC, the black population is in rapid decline.

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What we don’t understand about gentrification | Stacey Sutton | TEDxNewYork

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What makes Molenbeek such a hotbed for Islamist radicalism?

The most obvious reason is the deep divisions in Belgian society. The country suffers from a form of linguistic apartheid that divides the Dutch-speaking Flemings and the French-speaking Walloons. Listening to their respective media outlets and politicians, you could be forgiven for thinking that the country of Belgium doesn't exist. The two communities live completely apart.

This also leads to administrative dysfunction: Belgium has no less than six governments: a federal government, a Flemish government for the Flanders region, a government of the French community, a government of the German-speaking community, a government of the Walloon region and a government of the Brussels-Capital Region.

This fragmentation of political authority is replicated at the municipal level, partly because the country has always had a strong tradition of local government derived from the belief that political leaders should be close to their communities and know their people's needs. However, this tradition has fostered an environment in which politicians strive to secure their own fiefs and preserve their own positions.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in Brussels itself, which is governed like a small city-state - with 19 districts, each with its own mayor, and six police authorities, which only reluctantly work together, and sometimes not at all. Political distrust between mayors from different parties or between rich and poor city districts sometimes translates into a total lack of communication and coordination.

Hans Bonte, the mayor of Vilvoorde, a northern suburb of Brussels where several foreign fighters come from, calls the capital's security arrangements "a perfect example of organized chaos."

Among the deficiencies of the Belgian intelligence community has been a lack of Arabic speakers at the Belgian State Security Service, as well as a failure to recruit former radicals or even people from Muslim backgrounds. Painfully aware of the problem, Justice Minister Koen Geens recently told the Flemish daily newspaper De Morgen that the government is now in the process of recruiting Arabic-speaking analysts: "Recruiting specific profiles takes time. They have to be screened, pass the tests," he said. "We are working on this."

That police and intelligence officers largely left radicals alone, assuming that potential jihadists could be easily monitored by informers, has proved another tactical blunder - one for which some blame the Socialist mayor of Molenbeek from 1993 until 2012, Philippe Moureaux. Critics say that Mr. Moureaux, a popular figure in Molenbeek, was responsible for the hands-off policy for fear that more intrusive policing might anger the district's Muslim voters.

Johan Leman, a sociology professor emeritus at the University of Leuven, argues that it's too easy to pin all responsibility on the former mayor: "This is bigger than one man." Mr. Leman, who is also the chairman of Foyer, an organization that works to integrate minorities in Molenbeek, says that it was a police and intelligence problem: "When I warned police and security personnel in 1999 about the danger of the radical sheikh Bassam Ayachi, they didn't seem alarmed."

In Mr. Leman's view, both the Flanders and Brussels governments have done far too little grass-roots work to prevent the radicalization of young people. Only the Flanders government has a specific integration program, which is responsible only for the Flemish part of the country. In Brussels, people can enroll in a voluntary integration program. The Walloon government focuses on broader socioeconomic integration, but has no specific integration policy.

What is striking about the homegrown jihadist activities in Molenbeek is that the district has functioned as a kind of base camp for attacks on France, rather than on Belgium itself. Apparently, Brussels is deemed a safe hide out conveniently close to France - the real target.

The latest attacks in Paris have deeply embarrassed Belgian politicians. Interior Minister Jan Jambon promised this week on a Belgian TV channel to "wipe Molenbeek clean."

But acting in haste could be counterproductive. Most of Molenbeek's inhabitants are appalled by what has occurred in their midst. Tough talk and clumsy actions could alienate vital allies in the Muslim community.

Belgium needs a multifaceted response that brings together the different police authorities, targets potential jihadists and strengthens the security community by hiring Arabic speakers. But there must also be investment in grass-roots initiatives involving Muslim youth and preachers to prevent radicalization in the community.

This is Belgium's chance to cast off its reputation as Europe's leading exporter of jihadists. But if it is handled badly, Brussels could become a target, rather than a base, for Islamist terrorism.

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Opinion | Molenbeek, Belgium's 'Jihad Central'

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What makes Molenbeek such a hotbed for Islamist radicalism? The most obvious reason is the deep divisions in Belgian society. The country suffers from a form of linguistic apartheid that divides the Dutch-speaking Flemings and the French-speaking Walloons. Listening to their respective media outlets and politicians, you could be forgiven for thinking that the country of Belgium doesn't exist.

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When industrial activity moves out of central urban areas, property developers tend to move in quickly to build high-end housing. But things don't necessarily have to turn out this way. With financial support from the city authorities, a group of enthusiasts in Brussels turned exactly this kind of site into a socio-cultural activity centre to benefit local youth.

"Young people need space. Space to play, party and express themselves, but also to experiment, fail and learn. The problem is that access to space is not democratic," says Pepijn Kennis, a 27-year-old member of Toestand (meaning "state of being"), a Brussels non-profit that specialises in the reactivation of abandoned buildings and places. "We give free space to whoever wants to organise regular activities that are open to all."

Toestand's biggest project yet is Allée du Kaai, a complex of several warehouses and open space along the Brussels canal, a rapidly changing part of the city. Just across the street is Molenbeek, the scrutinised multicultural district branded as "jihadi central" following its association with a number of gunmen involved in the Paris attacks last November; the attacks in Brussels last week sharply reignited tensions in the area, which suffers from high levels of poverty and unemployment. Although much of the area surroudning Allée du Kaai is marked by deprivation, with families cramped into tiny housing units without access to good public space and services, there are also pockets of gentrification. Across the canal sit new housing developments and a new contemporary art museum is due to open. Toestand's goal has been to bring together different population groups in a city facing growing inequality.

The Allée du Kaai site has been active for about two years. There are roughly 30 associations setting up activities in a total area of 7,000 sq m, totalling more than 40,000 visits last year. Walking around it on a busy day, you can feel a sense of creativity and potential in the air. There's a bike repair workshop taking place, as well as a cooking class. Elsewhere kids are skating, or learning to print on T-shirts. A local band is rehearsing in a back room. There is even a tiny cinema in a former city bus. Others are playing ping-pong, strolling on the waterfront, or just hanging around against the backdrop of big graffiti walls.

The atmosphere may be vaguely reminiscent of large artistic squat houses - think the old Tacheles in Berlin - but Toestand is actually paid by local authorities to manage the site. "We have a contract with the Brussels Region Environment agency," says Kennis. "They are planning to make a park here, but that's not going to happen anytime soon, so in the meantime they wanted to do something meaningful with the place." Besides the Brussels Region, the Flemish Community Government is also supporting the project.

We believe the city - the public space, the party, the park - should be for everybody, not just the select few

Pepijn Kennis, Toestand

In a city with more than a million square metres of empty office space and an estimated 30,000 empty housing units, Toestand is not the only actor of temporary use. As is the case in many other cities around the world, pop-up culture has taken root in Brussels - but many examples tend to be very commercial, from summer-only gin and tonic bars to all kinds of concept stores.

The kind of social calling that Toestand brings to the table, however, can probably only exist with support from city authorities. Private owners are usually extremely reluctant to make buildings public, even if they're abandoned. They fear the temporary occupants won't vacate the place as soon as more lucrative plans take shape. Allée du Kaai is also exceptional in the sense that the land it occupies will remain wholly public after Toestand's activities move on, because the buildings will give way to a park.

For all the community work it does, Toestand originally formed from a party collective. As students looking for places to party, but not financially able to rent a regular club for a night, they ended up in abandoned buildings. But from the onset, there was also a great deal of idealism involved. "Even back when we just did parties, we wanted them to be open for everybody", says Kennis. "We believe the city - the public space, the party, the park - should be for everybody, not just the select few."

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The skating activities helped attract a wide array of local young people to the site. Photograph: Toestand

"We like to see our abandoned places as a kind of a parallel city. A new society, away from the neoliberal, capitalist order that fails its citizens. It fails them because there are not enough affordable housing options, artists cannot find space to work and social services are cancelled because all the money goes to banks. We'd like to be a laboratory for the city of the future, a utopia where it's not all about the money and inequality is left at the door."

Recent events in Brussels have only strengthened the determination of the youngsters of Toestand. "The mood is a bit darker and things are more quiet than usual, but everything goes on because we feel it's more important than ever to keep doing what we do," says Kennis. "In times of polarisation, it is important to bring people together and embrace the city's diversity. Our government is investing millions in bringing more policemen and military on to the streets, but that won't solve the economic and cultural exclusion that has alienated people here."

To bring together different people in Allée du Kaai, Toestand decided to work together with associations active in local communities, but at first it wasn't easy to engage people from the neighbourhood and build a network. The skate park, however - as well as hip-hop and breakdance events - proved helpful in attracting a variety of young people.

Another people-connector are the rabbits on the site. "They were brought here by Ismaël, a local teenager, and his dad," says Kennis. "They were keeping rabbits on the balcony of their tiny flat and asked to bring them here as soon as they heard about our space. One day the chef de cabinet of the regional minister of environment was visiting and started talking with Ismaël. Turned out they both know a great deal about rabbits, so they talked for quite some time about how to feed them. This is at the heart of our philosophy: creating a space where people can meet and interact. Even people who'd probably never cross paths in the normal world."

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A performance in an Allée du Kaai warehouse during the family-friendly Sjoemelage festival in 2015. Photograph: Lander Loeckx/Toestand

When new spaces or structures are built - such as rehearsal rooms or skate ramps - local young people are recruited as volunteers to help out, building a sense of co-ownership as well as friendships and skills. Then again, the young idealism behind the site is sometimes knocked. After several break-ins, fences were put in front of the windows. The place also faced a few acts of vandalism. "Bored teenagers can get angry and break things", says Kennis. "It's a learning process for everybody. I guess we can continue because we are young and naive."

Toestand remains true to its own challenge to bring all kinds of people together. This is unique in a city that's not only divided along income but also along language lines and where most associations typically just cater to one community. "Everyone warned us we would get trouble", says Kennis. "Nobody is doing what we do, because people are afraid to lose control. But for us this is important. We want to be open for everyone. After all, this place will eventually be turned into a park. So we might as well make it a public space already. But one with a roof, for the time being."

There are doubts, however, about how inclusive the planned public park will really be - with fears that it could simply be dominated by incoming residents from new luxury developments. Toestand have worked hard to integrate local people in Allée du Kaai, but the demographic shifts could cause an appropriation of the public space that replaces it.

Even with the minor drawbacks, authorities seem pretty happy with Toestand's work. Contracts are signed for two other temporary projects that will start this spring. One is also in an abandoned building, the other is a public space that's underused right now. "The idea is that we set up activities to put it on people's mental map, and see what works and what not. This will be taken into account by the planners that will eventually redesign the square."

Both new projects will last four years. Meanwhile Toestand grew from two employees to 10, and is set to grow even more. "We started as a crazy student experiment with no building. Now authorities are very interested and we get more offers for buildings than we can handle."
This article is part of the special Guardian Cities collaboration with the Young Urbanists and was commissioned by Kieran Toms. Check out other stories from the collaboration on Twitter at #GuardianYU Topics

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Hip-hop and rabbits: the youth group transforming Brussels' vacant buildings

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Originally party organisers, Toestand are now working to bring communities together in parts of the city newly associated with terror attacks, but also subject to creeping gentrification. The group's Allée du Kaai project shows how the gift of space can work wonders

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Pros and Cons of Gentrification in Dutch

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Pros and Cons of Gentrification in Dutch

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Death of Alex Nieto, consequence of gentrification

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Death of Alex Nieto, consequence of gentrification

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"Safer For Who?" - A Look at Gentrification in San Francisco's Mission District

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This video is dedicated to Alejandro Nieto. A young man who was murdered by SFPD on March 21st, 2014 in Bernal Heights Park. http://justice4alexnieto.org/ Students at the University of San Francisco completed multimedia projects about the Mission District, a primarily Latino neighborhood which has experienced vast changes due to the recent tech boom.

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Documentary about what gentrification does to residents

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Documentary about what gentrification does to residents

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What It’s Like To Get Kicked Out Of Your Neighborhood

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Documentary pros and cons of gentrification

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Documentary pros and cons of gentrification

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Urban Displacement San Francisco Map | Urban Displacement Project

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Northern California's booming jobs and housing market necessitates a careful look at the causes and consequences of neighborhood change to protect residents that are most vulnerable to potentially being displaced. Wages of low income residents have not kept pace with the sky-rocketing housing prices resulting in massive demographic shifts in the mega-region, from San Francisco to Sacramento.

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Article about gentrification in San Fransisco (writer against it)

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Article about gentrification in San Fransisco (writer against it)

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San Francisco's gentrification has reached a ridiculous new extreme, making it the most expensive city in the country,[i] outstripping even Manhattan, the home of Wall Street and its corporate tycoons.

The affordability crisis is so extreme that many of those who rode into the Mission District on the first wave of gentrification, during the dotcom boom in the 90s, are now crying foul. Even they can't afford the 2-bedroom apartment on Valencia Street renting for $11,500/month.[ii] They find themselves priced out of their lofts and community networks, by a whole new wave of highly paid tech workers who ride in on the Google bus every evening, driving rents and home prices to dizzying new heights.

If a well-paid tech worker can't stay in the Mission, what are the prospects for someone like Jessica, a student whose mother works as a janitor? Born living at 24 th and Harrison, she came to Causa Justa :: Just Cause to find our what her family could do to keep their home. They battled valiantly, but were ultimately pushed out of their home of 23 years by an investor who forced them to accept a buy out, by threatening to Ellis Act the entire 9-unit building.

The Ellis Act, passed by the real estate lobby in 1986 allows landlords to remove rent-controlled units from the rental market, and turn them into condominiums for sale. It's a real estate speculator's dream, and a long-term tenant's nightmare. Particularly in gentrifying neighborhoods, where real estate prices spike and there's a profit motive to kick out long-term tenants.[iii]

Jessica's working class Latino family is deeply committed to staying in San Francisco. The city is more than just their home. It's home to their extended family of aunties, godfathers, cousins and in-laws. It's where they have worked in service-sector jobs since the 80s, when so many Central American immigrants arrived to the Sanctuary City[iv], infusing local politics with internationalist ethics. It's the web of community networks, public schools, and neighorhood-based social services that supports kids as they grow up, and adults as they become elders. It's that way-beyond-nuclear type of family we call "community."

Community is that palpable sense of connectedness you feel at the Palestinian-owned corner store on Mission Street. At the Spanish-only Thai grocer on 16 th street, where decades-long neighbors run into each, buying freshly fried plantain chips made by a Honduran neighbor, hard-to-find Vietnamese hot sauce, or prickly delicious Rambutan fruit, while catchy Arab pop and Northern Mexican Rancheras blare onto the street. Community is the lunch counter that has served southern Barbeque to SRO residents ever since the days that same building was a tenement, housing African-American migrants who came here from the South to build the naval shipyard in Hunter's Point.

Their descendants are now scattered as far as Antioch and Sacramento, over-represented in homeless shelters, absent from the streets of the Fillmore, SF's former center of Black culture, now decorated with painfully ironic "Jazz Legacy" street signs for tourists.[v] Community is the traditional Mexican Tres Leches cake the inter-racial queer couple buys at the Chinese bakery every year, wishing a transgender partner "Happy Birthday" to celebrate their gender transition.

Community is the social fabric made up of each of these inter-twined threads. It's not something you can put a price on. But there is a price - a huge price.

In order to stay in San Francisco, Jessica's family now pays 40% more for their housing. Did janitors' wages go up 40% this year? Did the cost of living decrease 40%? Did mom-and-pop stores that serve families like Jessica's get a 40% decrease in skyrocketing commercial rents, so they could lower prices? Not a chance. Instead, Jessica's family makes it work the way thousands do, by living in more crowded, less habitable conditions, cutting costs on everything from healthcare, to transportation, to food.

For the thousands of families like Jessica's, the battle to expand tenant rights is more important than ever. Yes, building affordable housing is important. But, by itself, it is just not enough. Non-profit developers struggle to make ends meet and keep units off the market, and, ironically, they need to raise money from the very same corporate interests that are razing our communities. Inclusionary zoning - a few affordable units within huge market-rate developments - is at best a drop in the bucket, and, most often a window-dressing used to justify huge luxury developments that accelerate the pace of gentrification. While all of these reforms have a place in a larger strategy, tenant rights are crucial today more than ever. The single most aggressive way to increase affordability and defend thousands of working class families in San Francisco is to regulate the rental market.

Last year, Causa Justa :: Just Cause lead an effort to win a "hassle-free" housing law -penalizing landlords who harass, making it harder for them to push working class people out & double the rents in gentrifying San Francisco. We also won a subjective battle. We proved to ourselves, to elected officials, and to our communities who are under attack that displacement is not inevitable, that regulations in market housing can curb displacement, and that impacted communities can lead the fight to build a different kind of San Francisco - one that holds community at its heart.

Who are we up against?

Is it tech corporations, real estate developers, local government? Recent protests against the Google Bus highlighted this question, and made national headlines. Some blame tech workers - highly paid, primarily young white people who are pouring into long-time working class communities of color; workers who too often treat our communities like a colorful "ethnic" backdrop for their corporate lives. Some blame the real estate industry - the most active wing of the finance sector that has a stranglehold on California's economy. The ruthless industry is famous for creating the foreclosure crisis, embodied now by "flippers" that circle like vultures around Mission District Victorians after a working class family has been evicted, setting up sandwich board signs that signal the conversion of a rent-controlled unit into a million-dollar condominium.

This question came up at a meeting I recently attended, where Mission-district community-based organizations met with tech sector representatives, convened by District 9 Supervisor, David Campos. Google, Facebook, AirBnB, and a host of smaller crowd-source start-ups approached Supervisor Campos, wanting to fix the image problem tech has earned for itself in the Mission District. Rather than letting the big companies make a token gesture for PR purposes, to his credit, he brought mission community organizations together so we could express our concerns directly.

It was enlightening, to say the least, to speak directly to representatives of these companies. I noticed that smaller start-ups tended to have a very different character than the big corporations. And yet, somehow, in the public eye, huge tech corporations retain a kind of "perpetual start-up" image - as if its passion, creativity, genius, that drives them, not the billions of dollars they make in profit. A little research revealed that the giant tech corporations are, in fact, known for cartel-like behavior. A huge lawsuit is currently pending, seeking compensation for tens of thousands of engineers whose wages were kept artificially low. CEO's from Google, Apple, Intel, and Adobe are being sued for violating the Anti-Trust Act, conspiring with each other so that none of them would recruit engineers at each other's companies with higher wages, thus repressing engineer wages throughout the industry in order to increase profits.[vi] Not to mention wi-fi buses that shuttle workers from SF to Silicon Valley squeeze at least two more hours of work out of each employee. It was ironic, then, to hear company reps defend tech employees from community criticism. If you wanted your employees to be treated more respectfully, shouldn't you start by doing so, yourself?

What these tech corporation representatives (many in new "community liaison" positions just created a few months ago in response to public pressure) heard from the community was how tech workers flooding into the Mission creates the profit motive for landlords to push people out. Whether the individual tech workers are conscious of it or not, they are complicit in the process of gentrification. The Google bus protests struck a nerve because they highlighted how the Tech sector is facilitating the forced displacement of families like Jessica's, all while using city infrastructure built with taxes her family has paid, for decades, while tech companies have dodged taxation. The recent ruling by the Metropolitan Transport Agency requiring these huge corporate buses pay $1 per stop was like a slap in the face to the community. Jessica herself pays $2 each time she rides Muni or gets on the bus - each individual bus rider pays DOUBLE what these tax-dodging multi-billion corporations pay. [vii]

Both the Tech and the Real Estate Industries have to take responsibility for the affordability crisis in San Francisco. Blaming Real Estate is an easy out for Tech companies that claim to be "innovating for social good" but ignore the impact their boardrooms of innovation have on surrounding communities. Meanwhile, Real Estate happily lets Tech workers take the blame for their reckless profiteering, hiding behind the myth that the housing market is some kind of force of nature, instead of a real time series of power relationships that human beings have responsibility for. In the background of each wave of gentrification, each massive increase in rents, each conversion of a rent-controlled apartment into a luxury condominium is an incredibly powerful finance industry that shapes not just San Francisco, but California as a whole.

Who will defend the heart of San Francisco?

Local governments need to step up to the challenge of holding corporations accountable. Accepting gifts from Tech Industry tycoons as a way to let them avoid real taxation is neither sustainable as a strategy, nor defensible morally. Letting Real Estate throw in a couple affordable units as a way to avoid real regulation in the housing market is not just insufficient to meet the affordability needs - it's fueling the displacement of working class communities of color.

In his "State of the City" address, Mayor Ed Lee promised to defend tenant protections, fight the Ellis Act, and build affordable housing. Without a strategy of corporate accountability, these promises will be impossible to keep. What does the city gain by depriving itself of tax revenue? Billions of dollars come through San Francisco this way, pushing working class communities out and filtering into private hands. Promising to provide "Housing for All" without an aggressive corporate accountability strategy is like handing out free umbrellas in the face of a Tsunami.

And it's bigger than just the Mayor. Every one of us has a role to play in the battle for the heart of San Francisco. Concerned individuals, direct action collectives, neighborhood associations, small businesses committed to the community, tech workers exploited by their bosses, we all have a responsibility. Causa Justa :: Just Cause organizes people like Jessica, people directly impacted by the crisis, who instead of being victims are, through community struggle, becoming protagonists in the fight for the heart of San Francisco. We know that supporting grassroots leadership is the only way we will change the balance of power in the long term, and we built an organization to play that role in the movement. And there are many more roles to play - from legal and policy work, to direct action in the streets, to building affordable housing, to cultural and community healing work. If we work together, we are stronger. As we learned in the late 90s in the mission, we must work together at a scale bigger than any one neighborhood if we are to contend with the powerful forces driving gentrification.

Today, we have citywide organizations like San Francisco Rising and the San Francisco Anti-Displacement Coalition, poised to fight the battle for the heart of San Francisco. If local government isn't representing us well, then we can make ourselves heard - at the ballot box, in the streets, at corporate headquarters and bus stops, in church halls and city hall.

Gentrification is not natural. Displacement is not inevitable. Everyday people, when we come together, can change the course of history.

Join Jessica, and hundreds of impacted tenants as we come together to build grassroots power, Sat, Feb 8 th, at the citywide San Francisco tenant convention!

Live elsewhere in California? Sign the petition to repeal the Ellis Act.

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Gentrification and The Battle for the Heart of San Francisco | Maria Poblet

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San Francisco's gentrification has reached a ridiculous new extreme, making it the most expensive city in the country,[i] outstripping even Manhattan, the home of Wall Street and its corporate tycoons. The affordability crisis is so extreme that many of those who rode into the Mission District on the first wave of gentrification, during the dotcom [...]

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A red baseball cap provides Azmani Ridoin with only minor relief against the dazzling autumn sun as he squints across an artificial football pitch to scrutinise every move being made by his players.

Like any self-respecting coach, he has little time for slackers as he furiously blows his whistle at the guilty while throaty barks of " voilà " are hurled at those whose efforts deserve recognition. Once the routine drills of sprinting, skipping and ball control are over, the 24 youngsters break into two groups for an intense practice match that is intermittently stopped as Ridoin remonstrates with his charges, who are struggling to adapt to a new tactical formation.

It is a tough, no-nonsense approach that some may consider harsh given the tender years of those on the pitch, but it is paying dividends. The under-12s of Académie Jeunesse Molenbeek are reigning champions and currently top of their league - and last season they lifted the trophy in a 24-team tournament in Spain in which children from Real Madrid, Barcelona and other leading European sides also competed.

Ridoin calls an end to proceedings and his players trudge off the pitch in sweat-drenched shirts to be met by more straight talking and what have become his trademark words: "Discipline on the pitch means discipline off it," he warns. "Focus on your studies and keep good company. And remember: you play for the whole of Molenbeek."

As he reminds them of the kick-off time for their next match, Ridoin, 46 and an engineer by profession, justifies his tough-love methods.

"They are still young and do not understand the problems they will face as they get older because in Belgium it's hard to be accepted if you are Muslim," he says. "We want them to be well-educated, strong individuals who will overcome any hurdles in a positive way."

The weary youngsters make their way home, chatting and passing a ball, along streets that first hit the headlines last year when 130 people were killed in the terror attacks in Paris. The ringleader, Abdelhamid Abaaoud, and three of the other suspected attackers grew up in Molenbeek, including Salah Abdeslam, who, after a four-month manhunt, was arrested in his home neighbourhood just five minutes from the Sipelberg stadium where the Académie train and play.

Molenbeek's notoriety did not end there, however. Some of the bombers who took part in the attacks on Brussels airport and a metro station in March, killing 32 people, were found to have links to the area. Ayoub el-Khazzani, a Moroccan national suspected of opening fire on a train between Brussels and Paris last August, was also from Molenbeek, while Mehdi Nemmouche, who is accused of killing four people at a Jewish museum in Brussels in 2014, once lived in the area.

Figures later published showed that of the 543 Belgians who had gone to fight in Syria - the highest per head in Europe - 47 came from Molenbeek's 100,000-strong population.

Within days of the Paris attacks, the compact Brussels district was flooded by police, soldiers and an army of journalists from around the world. The various undesirable sobriquets they gave the area have stuck: "The Islamic state of Molenbeek"; "Europe's jihadi capital" and "Europe's jihadi heaven," to name but a few.

In the 12 months since the Paris attacks, on 13 November 2015, the people of Molenbeek have been trying to rebuild its battered reputation and also get to grips with the underlying problems they say pushed some of its young men towards violent Islamic fundamentalism. And football has become key to this.

Académie Jeunesse Molenbeek was founded in 2004 by Omar Tizguine - who is also the club secretary - and a group of friends who felt they were being discriminated against by other Brussels teams on account of their Moroccan backgrounds.

Over the past year its numbers have more than doubled to above 500 as players flood to join its ranks, driven by parents, imams and the wider community who maintain that delinquency, poor education and social alienation allowed the likes of Salah Abdeslam and his brother Ibrahim, who blew himself up in Paris last November, to be exploited by Islamic State recruiters.

Around 41% of the residents of Molenbeek - which is a short walk from Brussels city centre - are Muslim (compared with 6% for Belgium as a whole), the bulk of Moroccan descent. The area suffers from 30% unemployment, compared with the national average of 8.5%, while youth unemployment is even higher, at 40%.

Despite high levels of deprivation and petty crime, those entering a district dubbed by many as a "hostile Muslim enclave" will be in for disappointment if they are expecting an aggressive reception from fundamentalist hotheads.

Molenbeek's sedate, well-swept streets are lined with cafes serving visitors mint tea, Moroccan delicacies and a warm smile. Any heated conversation, if they want one, is mostly likely to centre on football. Chic eateries and even a boutique hotel have sprung up among its apartment blocks, halal butchers and greengrocers, suggesting a modicum of gentrification.

Over a traditional Moroccan breakfast of sweet milky coffee and pitta filled with cheese and honey, Tizguine's face contorts with anger as he recounts what he and other locals refer to as the "collective punishment" meted out to them. "All of us have been portrayed as terrorist monsters and stigmatised by politicians and the media," he railed. "I fully accept that we have problems but there is good and bad in every community.

"For one whole month after the Paris attack I was asked every day by journalists if I had gone to Syria, ever thought about going there or knew anybody who had gone there. People think we are all members of the Islamic State. But I let football do my talking and we are using it to make our community a better place to live."

Utilising the beautiful game to overcome the Molenbeek "monster" stereotype has become central to the club's ethos. All players are instructed to shake hands with opponents before and after games, arguing with match officials is prohibited and visiting teams are often treated to food and drinks. The result is that all 10 teams of the Académie Jeunesse Molenbeek, from the seven-year-olds to the over-18s, have the best disciplinary record in their respective leagues, while last season it was voted the friendliest club.

Virtually all its players are Muslim and live locally. As part of the club's drive to tackle the more endemic problems they face, each has to show his school report and attendance record at least once every three months to prove he is keeping up with his studies, while coaches regularly meet with parents to discuss their social development and address any behavioural concerns.

Tizguine said: "Our priority is not football but discipline and keeping children off the street. Many boys in Molenbeek are poorly educated and unemployed: they get into bad company and this makes them vulnerable. We make it clear that if you do not focus on school and don't behave in all areas of your life, you cannot be part of this club."

Mohamed Tabakkalt, the club's sporting director, added: "Since the Paris attacks, parents are scared for their sons and they want to get them involved in something positive. We are struggling to keep up with the demand because so many boys want to join us."

Molenbeek's "terrorist" tag, however, has weighed heavily at times over the past year. Attempts to recruit white footballers from outside the area in order to create more integrated teams have failed, while existing white players have left because of fears that it's a dangerous place to visit. Earlier this year, all 26 teams scheduled to take part in an annual girls' tournament cancelled for the same reason, while the boys' teams did not organise one at all. Players from Académie Jeunesse Molenbeek have also been verbally abused on the pitch, called "terrorists" and "gangsters".

The club has also had to have some difficult conversations with its players over the past year, most of them nothing to do with football. Meetings have been held to address concerns raised by inquisitive youngsters seeking explanations about Molenbeek's links with Paris, Brussels and other attacks and the impact it has had on their lives. The likes of Salah Abdesalam, who is awaiting trial in Paris, are held up as anti-role models.

The club's work is supported by Françoise Schepmans, the mayor of Molenbeek, who has launched a wide-ranging plan centred on education and sport to try to combat some of the problems young people in the area face.

Like many of her constituents, she also believes that delinquency and poor education within Molenbeek, rather than an ingrained, widespread sympathy for violent Islamic extremism, explain the radicalisation of Abdesalem and his cohorts.

This was borne out recently by the findings of a comprehensive two-month survey of Molenbeek residents from all religious backgrounds by the European Institute of Peace. The majority felt a lack of opportunities, social isolation and poor education were the main reasons for violent Islamic extremism. The top three issues they listed as affecting them were unemployment, poor education and antisocial behaviour, with the majority calling for a stronger police presence to make their community safer. Around 90% said they did not trust politicians and journalists because of the way they had portrayed their home district.

Schepmans said: "If you look at somebody like Abdesalam, he was part of a group of petty criminals and we had no way of knowing that these delinquents would become such violent radicals.

"We have a lot of young people in Molenbeek who are poorly educated, which affects their job prospects and pushes them into delinquent behaviour. They are on the streets, commit petty crimes and can be easily led. Education is the priority for us, but sport has an important role to play because it can motivate them in other areas of their lives, helps tackle delinquency and brings prestige to an individual and an area."

An extra 50 police officers have been drafted into Molenbeek to deal with petty crime, leading to a threefold increase for the first half of this year in arrests for minor offences. New facilities and programmes for football and other sports are also being rolled out over the coming months, with funding from the Cruyff Foundation, which was founded by former Netherlands captain Johan Cruyff to help youngsters in deprived areas.

For the Académie Jeunesse Molenbeek, the prospect of financial assistance could not be better timed. It costs £130,000 a year to run the club but it only receives £30,000 in grants from the local authority. The remainder is supposed to be made up of annual player subscriptions of £300, but only half its players can afford to pay the full amount.

Officials often have to dig into their own pockets to keep the club afloat and ensure that it continues to grow. As they battle to get Molenbeek back on its feet and restore its reputation in the eyes of the world, they have vowed not to turn any boy away.

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Salah Abdeslam, captured on CCTV in Molenbeek market a year before the Paris attacks. Photograph: AP

This article was amended on 4 November to amend an incorrect caption.

Topics

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How Molenbeek fought back against Isis - with football

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A red baseball cap provides Azmani Ridoin with only minor relief against the dazzling autumn sun as he squints across an artificial football pitch to scrutinise every move being made by his players. Like any self-respecting coach, he has little time for slackers as he furiously blows his whistle at the guilty while throaty barks of " voilà " are hurled at those whose efforts deserve recognition.

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See neighborhood maps and gentrification data for Boston.

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Article about Boston that I used for the schedule and information

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Article about Boston that I used for the schedule and information

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A glance at Uphams Corner shows Boston's building boom hasn't made its way here - yet.

A check-cashing business sits at the corner of Dudley Street and Columbia Road, and across the street, the Payless ShoeSource on the first floor of the Pierce Building is gone, a victim of the retailer's filing for bankruptcy protection in 2017. Two former bank buildings are empty, and what was once an indoor swimming pool houses part of the neighborhood library branch.

But city officials know the waves of gentrification are approaching, and so do the residents of this Dorchester neighborhood, who worry an influx of affluent renters could spur a rise in rent that will drive out longtime low-income residents.

In an effort to avoid that fate, the city and its partners are trying to act preemptively, acquiring property before the private real estate market pushes prices too high. The city aims to redevelop the properties based on recommendations from residents, said John Barros, chief of economic development for Mayor Martin J. Walsh and an Uphams Corner resident.

If the effort is successful, city officials envision it as a potential model for neighborhoods on the brink throughout Boston.

"This is a response to the past couple of years of gentrification and displacement," said Juan Leyton, executive director of the Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative, a nonprofit organization that is collecting residents' suggestions for development plans. "We're looking for development that won't displace people."

The delicate balance the city seeks in Uphams Corner - promoting economic development without sending existing residents packing - has proved to be difficult in nearby neighborhoods. In Dudley Square, Boston poured $120 million into the Bruce C. Bolling Municipal Building and moved 500 Boston Public Schools workers into the space. Still, two early tenants, Tasty Burger and Dudley Dough, have already closed, and residents say crime remains a problem.

In Uphams Corner the process began last year, when the city purchased the former Bank of America building on Columbia Road for $250,000.

A community land trust run by Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative bought the former Citizens Bank branch across the street for $1 million under the condition that whatever goes there remains affordable.

Those sites, plus the city-owned Strand Theatre and a municipal parking lot, provide three to four acres where the city could build the library branch, which is expected to cost $18 million, Barros said.

"That is new for the city to be buying key buildings," said Jeanne DuBois, former executive director of Dorchester Bay Economic Development Corporation. "I think if the city can take it off the market and kind of buy time, that's a good thing."

Residents have told city officials at planning meetings that they hope the neighborhood becomes a destination for arts and culture, but one where commercial and residential rents are affordable.

Between 2012 and 2016, the median residential rent in the ZIP code covering Uphams Corner was $1,216 per month, about $150 less than the citywide median, according to Census Bureau figures.

A city report released last year said that Uphams Corner is one of the most diverse neighborhoods in the country, but that its residents lag behind citywide averages in terms of earnings and educational attainment. The median household income for the area is about $41,000 a year, the report said.

The city hasn't released specific plans for the properties it controls, but neighbors have expressed preferences. A date for starting library construction hasn't been set, a library spokeswoman said.

In one scenario, the library would set aside performance and rehearsal spaces for artists and a design lab for graphic arts. Another idea calls for building affordable housing above the library branch. There's also been discussion of building a structure connecting the new library to the Strand Theatre. Some residents hope designs for the library include a rooftop garden or interior courtyard.

The former Bank of America building could be used for housing. The Walsh administration included the property in a pitch it recently released to collect ideas for redeveloping 83 city-owned buildings to ease the city's housing crunch.

Some revitalization work has begun. Construction started in May to improve the Strand, a former movie house that opened in 1918. The city said it is spending about $3 million for upgrades, including installing an elevator and sprinkler system.

During construction, the theater can't accommodate as many performances and rehearsals, said Julie Burros, the city's chief of arts and culture. Later this year, she said, the city plans to seek a new operator for the 1,400-seat theater, saying it is difficult for city government to run the space.

The Dorchester Bay Economic Development Corporation, which owns the Pierce Building, said it is planning to gut and renovate the property and is seeking a new tenant for the space once occupied by Payless ShoeSource

"We would like it to be community-oriented and community-driven and not contribute to forces of gentrification," said Perry Newman, the organization's chief executive.

Worries about gentrification ran high among residents at a recent planning meeting, where organizers displayed index cards that neighbors used to express their hopes, fears, and questions about the future of Uphams Corner.

On the cards, residents wrote about worries like seeing the neighborhood being transformed into "another Seaport" or a place where "you can't get a meal unless you spend $30."

Japonica Brown-Saracino, who teaches sociology at Boston University, said building affordable housing is one way to keep residents in a neighborhood.

"When economic revitalization is done well, it should benefit many of the people who are already in a neighborhood," she said.

Some residents said the area has already started to change.

Bob Mickiewicz, 62, said rising rental prices have already forced some people to move.

"If I had to move here today from the outside, I couldn't afford to live here," he said. "It's already unaffordable."

But Bob Haas, 73, a community activist who moved into a dilapidated house on Monadnock Street during the 1970s, said the time is right to breathe new life into the neighborhood.

"There are so many beautiful historic buildings," he said. "I think there's a window of opportunity right now."

Laura Crimaldi can be reached at laura.crimaldi@globe.com. Follow her on Twitter @lauracrimaldi.

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This is how the city plans to beat gentrification in Uphams Corner - The Boston Globe

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A glance at Uphams Corner shows Boston's building boom hasn't made its way here - yet. A check-cashing business sits at the corner of Dudley Street and Columbia Road, and across the street, the Payless ShoeSource on the first floor of the Pierce Building is gone, a victim of the retailer's filing for bankruptcy protection in 2017.

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Boston gentrification benefits and damage

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Boston gentrification benefits and damage

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Word list / difficult words from articles

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Word list / difficult words from articles

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Articles and videos about Boston gentrification for the mini lesson

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Articles and videos about Boston gentrification for the mini lesson

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Article about Boston that I used for the schedule and information

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Article about Boston that I used for the schedule and information

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The American dream is always associated with the idea of a suburban home with a white picket fence. The stereotypical home remains a dream, however, as housing policy after housing policy firmly reminds us.

San Francisco, a city racked with housing dilemmas, indicated a move in the right direction after the US Department of Housing and Urban Development announced an "anti-displacement" preference for residents applying for federally financed housing. The point of contention surrounds the construction of the Willie B. Kennedy Apartments being constructed in the Western Addition section of the city, an outlying neighbourhood in the throes of gentrification. The complex itself is partially federally funded.

The policy would allot 40% of the development for seniors from "the Western Addition, Bayview, Russian Hill, Mission and South of Marker neighbourhoods," according to an NPR article. The majority of residents in the Western Addition are African American, bringing equal opportunity of all races into the question.

Gentrification is a curious thing. We see it every day in Boston, as our rents increase, a trendy cafe pops up on the corner and then it's game over. Our "struggle" needs perspective. We move in on the first of September and leave sometime before July. We are not permanent residents, we have the means to pay for high rents and we're willing to live in squalid conditions. We are students, and we are ruining the lives of Boston residents.

The diaspora of students is particularly seen around the neighbourhood of Allston, which is perceived as one of the last bastions of affordable living within city limits. Walking to class, you might pass a family putting a child on a school bus. Though you may also see this in nearby Brookline, the margin of rents between the proximal neighbourhoods is astounding. Before long, that family living in Allston because of the affordable rent will most likely be gone.

Other unique areas, like Chinatown, exist because of affordable housing. If it were to disappear, massive groups of people would be without a home and without an identity. Since the days of Ellis Island, like individuals have flocked to certain neighbourhoods. But because of the extreme lengths people will go to live around metropolitan areas, these cultural strongholds are quickly vanishing.

Much of Boston seems to be extremely racially homogenous, and the parts that do not fall under this characterisation seem to be experiencing gentrification. Though San Francisco's policy instigates conversation, it is missing a larger point.

The issue is already deeply rooted if individuals are applying for federally funded housing; it means they have no choice. By providing federally funded housing for gentrified areas, those residents, primarily minorities, have already been displaced from their homes. A substantive solution needs to be discovered before the crisis reaches this critical point.

Yet, as is the case with many systemic societal issues, this is merely one link in the chain being pulled above the water. To see the whole, and how interconnected the links are, you must make the whole chain visible. Race, inevitably, is interwoven through things like education, employment and, of course, housing.

San Francisco's department of housing and urban development is initiating conversation around affordable housing, and acknowledging the fact that race is a major part of it. This is good for now - but what about the next 10 years?
This is an edited version o Are you experiencing or resisting gentrification in your city? Share your stories in the comments below, through our dedicated callout, or on Twitter using #GlobalGentrification. f a leading article originally published by the Daily Free Press, an independent, student-owned and student-operated newspaper at Boston University. The article represents the opinions of the Daily Free Press editorial board, and is reprinted with their kind permission. Topics

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A student view of Boston's gentrification: 'We are ruining the lives of city residents'

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The American dream is always associated with the idea of a suburban home with a white picket fence. The stereotypical home remains a dream, however, as housing policy after housing policy firmly reminds us.

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Hispanic population

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There goes the neighborhood. When wealthy interlopers start building luxury condos and juice bars in formerly gritty and eclectic neighborhoods, tensions can get high. Test your knowledge of the gentrification process with this quiz.

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Information about population

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The hipsters who have taken over Brooklyn have done so largely at the expense of lower-income Hispanics, a new report claims.

The Hispanic population is still increasing citywide - from 2,428,756 in 2013 to 2,489,090 in 2016, the analysis by the National Institute for Latino Policy notes.

But in Brooklyn, the number of Hispanic residents has halted and even started to decline.

The Hispanic population in Brooklyn has dropped from 513,242 in 2015 to an estimated 505,183 last year - a 1.6 percent reduction, NILP president Angelo Falcón said.

Falcón claims that escalating housing costs - spurred by gentrification - have driven lower-income Hispanics out of once the predominately Latino neighborhoods of Bushwick, Williamsburg and Sunset Park. Puerto Ricans, in particular, had a strong presence in those areas.

An economic report on neighborhoods conducted by city Comptroller Scott Stringer in April backs up Falcón's claim: The Hispanic population in Williamsburg plummeted 16 percent from 2000 to 2015.

In Bushwick, the Latino population shrank by 13 percent over the 15-year span while the white population increased 610 percent from 3,207 to 22,776. Meanwhile, the number of Hispanics fell 13 percent in Sunset Park.

"This provides a disturbing window into the possible future of the city's Latino population if the city's affordable-housing program does not take into account community calls for much deeper affordability than is currently being planned," Falcón argues.

The study noted that the percentage of Latinos owning their own homes is 16 percent, half the citywide average of 32 percent. Latinos account for only 12.5 percent of all homeowners in the city.

Falcón said gentrification "represents an existential threat to the future of the city's Latino population."

So where are Hispanics moving to? According to the comptroller's neighborhood report, Latinos are gravitating to working-class neighborhoods, mostly in the outer boroughs.

From 2000 to 2015, the Hispanic population surged 102 percent on the Rockaway Peninsula, from 17,107 to 34,620; doubled from 14,120 to 29,049 in Bensonhurst; jumped 85 percent in Central Harlem and 78 percent in the Port Richmond section of Staten Island, home to a burgeoning Mexican immigrant population.

The Latino presence also increased nearly 50 percent in the Queens communities of Ridgewood, Glendale, Middle Village and Richmond Hill/Woodhaven and through nearly all sections of the Bronx.

In Long Island City/Astoria in Queens, the Latino population fell 10 percent from 51,963 to 46,899 since 2000.

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These people are the biggest losers in Brooklyn's gentrification

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The hipsters who have taken over Brooklyn have done so largely at the expense of lower-income Hispanics, a new report claims. The Hispanic population is still increasing citywide - from 2,428,756 in 2013 to 2,489,090 in 2016, the analysis by the National Institute for Latino Policy notes.

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Questions about Gentrification

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Online vertaalwoordenboek. Nederlands, Engels, Duits, Frans, Spaans

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Article about the positive and negative effects of gentrification

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Are there ways to curb the effects of gentrification?

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Gentrification

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Gentrification and Displacement in Brooklyn

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Shot, edited, and produced by Adrian Marcano. This video shows many of the changes occurring in Brooklyn and offers critique from young people who grew up and witnessed the changes happening in Brooklyn.

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I've used for my investigation

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Here we track our work every week. Include with one for each student with your final portfolio product

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This is our final word list with 30 words.