“IMAGINING DE-GENTRIFIED FUTURES”

CURATED BY BETTY YU
AT APEXART
11/4 - 12/19/20

Radical Housing
Manifestos
Reader
 Radical Housing Manifestos Reader
“Imagining De-Gentrified Futures” is an interactive exhibition at Apexart, that
attempts to imagine socially-just futures for our cities and aims to rethink the
assumed trajectory of urban development. Drawing inspiration from antigentri-
fication resistance across the U.S., decolonization movements, and Afrofuturism,
this exhibition gives permission to imagine, to dream, to unleash and explore ways
in which socially-just futures can exist for cities and communities.

Check out the exhibition, info here: www.apexart.org/yu.php

“Radical Housing Manifestos” is part of this exhibition. As the exhibition’s

curator, I solicited written materials, essays, poems, images, graphics, and audio
from a handful community organizers, cultural workers, urban planners, and
scholars that offers a creative re-visioning of neighborhood development.
The selection of works serves as a resource combining research and vision.

All contributors were asked to answer the following questions or simply use them
as a reference:
• Is it possible to disrupt the dominant narratives put forth by real estate
speculators, developers, extractive industries and the 1% - that depict
gentrification as “inevitable” and a “natural” part of urban evolution?
• How can we harness our collective resources and trace a new trajectory that
allows communities to flourish without being priced out of our neighborhoods?
• What does a de-gentrified New York City look like that is rooted in
anti-capitalist and anti-colonial values that recognizes housing as a human right?
• What does it look like in your neighborhood, on your block?

Radical Housing Manifestos contributors:

Thomas Angotti
Alicia Grullon
Hate Free Zone
Lynn Lewis, The Picture the Homeless Oral History Project
Antoinette Martinez, Protect Sunset Park
Robert Robinson, Take Back the Land
Pati Rodriguez,Mi Casa No Es Su Casa
Samuel Stein
Sunset Park Popular Assembly

Betty Yu
Guest Curator, “Imagining De-Gentrified Futures” at Apexart

2
 Contents
Thomas Angotti ….......................................................... 4

Alicia Grullon .................................................................6

Hate Free Zone................................................................7

Lynn Lewis, The Picture the Homeless Oral History Project.9

Antoinette Martinez, Protect Sunset Park…..................... 13

Robert Robinson.............................................................15

Pati Rodriguez,Mi Casa No Es Su Casa........................... 18

Samuel Stein.................................................................21

Sunset Park Popular Assembly........................................23

3
 Gentrification is Displacement
Tom Angotti is Professor Emeritus of Urban Policy and Planning at Hunter College and The
Graduate Center, City University of New York. He is the author of New York For Sale: Community
Planning Confronts Global Real Estate and co-editor with Sylvia Morse of Zoned Out: Race,
Displacement and City Planning in New York City.

Gentrification is more than just a word. It’s a trial capitalism, the people who worked the land
warm blanket that covers up the dark secrets kept were displaced from rural areas, leaving a huge
by white folks. Secrets about war, colonialism, low-cost surplus labor force in Europe’s cities.
racism, and genocide. Europe’s colonial powers displaced
indigenous people on every continent and
No, gentrification is not some creation of nature. launched the international slave trade. In Ameri-
It is not an inevitable part of the evolution of com- ca, European settlers displaced Native Americans
munities. It is not just an invention of people who from the lands they had stewarded for centuries.
have problems with the way their neighborhoods And as the United States urbanized, black and
are changing. brown people were shuttled into segregated
enclaves in central cities, then displaced again by
Gentrification happens when bankers and the federal urban renewal program, and segre-
investors, looking for places to store their vast gated again by redlining. They are now being
reservoirs of surplus capital, move into our displaced into new suburban enclaves by the so-
neighborhoods to buy up our land, houses and called invisible hand of the real estate market.
apartments so they can safely stash their wealth
in plain sight. Or just flip what they bought so they Gentrification is not a natural product of evolving
can make instant profits. When these guys move cities but it is a stealthy form of racial and class
in the price of everything skyrockets: rents, house bias. It is color coded, not color blind. New York
prices, food, everything. The gentry move in and City’s history is one of serial displacement of
the people have to move out. This is not some poor, black and brown people. But New York
benign process of gradual change. also has a rich history of community fightback,
tenant organizing, and struggles against gentri-
Gentrification is Displacement. fication and displacement. Community-based
Gentrification inexorably leads to the displace- resistance created the political foundation for
ment of those who can no longer afford to stay rent regulations, tax policies protecting small
in the place where they live, the neighborhood homeowners, and the defeat of urban renewal
where they and previous generations grew up. It programs (aka “Negro removal”).
has been produced during every historic period in
the evolution of capitalism. With the rise of indus-

4
 What can be done? need to nurture active citizenship aimed at improv-
ing the quality of life for all. Instead of tax and land
There is nothing natural or inevitable about gentrifica- use policies that force people of color to move, we
tion, and tenants and homeowners have often fought need a government that actively applies principles of
back. Our history is filled with examples of sustained racial justice to end gentrification and displacement.
struggles against displacement, like the Harlem Rent Instead of greenwashing and green gentrification
Strikes, the fights against the West Side Urban Renew- that protects the wealthiest enclaves and promotes
al program, and the occupation and redevelopment of displacement of the most vulnerable, we need
abandoned buildings in the South Bronx and Harlem. environmental policies that build on the struggles for
These struggles, often linked to the Civil Rights move- racial and economic justice and improve the lives of
ment, made a difference and won important conces- the ninety-nine percent.
sions and policy changes. In addition, for decades the
environmental justice movement has sought to defend Let’s build the city of the future on social justice and
communities of color against polluting waste transfer not economic greed. New Yorkers can learn from the
stations and exposure to toxic air while at the same Lenape people who preceded the European settlers
to fighting for the right to stay put. Today the climate and for whom land was not a commodity but an inte-
justice movement, led by communities of color that are gral part of nature and human life. If we are to expose
most vulnerable to sea level rise and climate change, and undermine the forces of displacement and gen-
is on the frontline of efforts to fundamentally alter the trification we must listen to the cries of mother earth
way the city adapts to a future without fossil fuels. In as she continues to be smothered by more concrete,
sum, our communities have had to struggle for every glass towers and asphalt. Let’s set her free!
bit of government support to stabilize and improve the
quality of life for residents and workers.

We have to keep fighting for more just local and state

policies that help preserve and strengthen our vibrant
neighborhoods: zoning and tax policies that promote
stable communities and not real estate speculation;
community-based and city-wide planning that guar-
antees that all residents have an equal opportunity to
shape the future of the city; and explicit rejection by
government of the hidden racial, ethnic and gender
biases behind its housing, land use and other policies.
Instead of government’s usual charades known as
“citizen participation” we need intensive and continu-
ing dialogues within and between communities, and
between communities and government, about the
long-term future of the city and our diverse neighbor-
hoods. It means shedding the myths of a technocratic,
color-blind government and the taboos against
speaking out loudly against racial injustice at every
level.

Instead of an obscure zoning regimen controlled by

technocrats, developers and high-paid lawyers, we

5
 Home is an archive.
Rooms with dates and descriptions
catalogs with guests
faded colors sometimes matte.
Gloves, socks, cups, weaves and laundry.
Bracelets that have hung in
tacked with metal one day in June
returning from school.
A plate cracked on one edge dropped
while we argued and fought again.
Home is where the cat
waited for us to finish then.
Nine Tanka Poems on Home No surveillance here.
The rent is too damn high now
by Alicia Grullon for us to live and dream, love.
Home is space and time.
Sheets, bourbon, joints, confetti
or sometimes tissues .

Crying from losing or pain.

Familiar protests on streets.
To have all of this.
Home is a manifesto
written directly
on walls, floors, windows, moments
affirmative acts- a fight.
In New York City
a 5% rent increase
has been linked with
3,000 more residents
becoming homeless people.
In Amerikkka
the evisceration of
public schools for jails
and social services stretch
less money to cover real needs.
Think tanks can't solve this,
nor non-profit programming
or research centers
with their top-down approaches.
What do you think it will take?
Possibility.
Collective power and vision
to organize for
homes, not shelters or hand outs,
but sheets to rest in and hug.
6
 Hate Free Zone Queens: Envisioning Our
Community-Centered Neighborhoods
What is a Hate-Free Zone?

A Hate-Free Zone enables our humanity, our inherent kindness and compassion for each other, to shine. A Hate-
Free Zone is built by our communities, for our communities. In a Hate-Free Zone, we look out for one another. We
love and protect each other. We do not let each other be targeted or separated by hateful policies and practices.
In particular, we move to protect those of us at the frontline of these attacks: our undocumented folks, workers,
immigrants, women, and our Muslim, Black, LGBTQ, gender non-conforming, and young folks. We organize to
defend our communities from workplace raids, deportations, mass criminalization, violence, and systemic violation
of our rights and dignity.

The times we are living in now call us to lean into love, hold onto hope, and build true solidarity so that each and
every one of us has a chance to live and thrive in our communities. We are a strong force rising up in the face of
hate. We invite community members, local businesses, faith institutions, and elected officials to join us in making
our communities Hate-Free Zones.

Who We Are
HFZ Queens focused on the four neighborhoods of Woodside, Elmhurst, Jackson Heights, and Corona in the New
York City borough of Queens. HFZ Queens is anchored by DRUM - Desis Rising Up and Moving and includes the
following core partner organizations: Adhikaar, Centro Corona, Damayan Migrant Workers Association, Global
Action Project, Jews for Racial and Economic Justice, Justice Committee, Queens Neighborhoods United, and
Ugnayan Youth for Justice and Social Change. FB: HFZQueens

Process
On September 17, 2017, Hate Free Zone Queens collectively envisioned what our neighborhoods would look like 20
years after we began intentionally practicing how to love and protect our communities and each other.

Visions
1. It had been years since ICE or the NYPD had set foot in the neighborhoods. La Roosevelt was just as busy and
bustling as always as immigrants, sex workers, & young children felt safe anywhere on the street. There were
Community Land Trusts and the rents hadn’t gone up in years. Businesses were locally-owned, selling samosas
and arepas with a side of political consciousness. All the vecinas were in communication and there was mutual
support. People could depend on each other. Pero este fin de semana nos enteramos through the underground
mom network that danger might be lurking in our neighborhood. We had heard about waves of violence hap-
pening in other communities because our networks were connected to other networks; so we had organized a
dabacito natin to discuss the situation. Of course, the interpreters were busily helping us communicate across
languages as we brainstormed next steps. Folks were trickling in as they came back to the neighborhood from their
jobs--long forgotten were the days of DACA because everybody had the right to work. After all, this was liberated
territory where citizenship is irrelevant and we share responsibility for keeping each other safe and happy. It was an
understatement to say “We Love and Protect Each Other.”

7
 2. Pilipinxs, Black and Muslim communities gather for informal meetings to talk about life and deepen their
understanding of each other. The Latinx, LGBTQ, and young people join for potluck, politics and karaoke.
They collectively plan their rooftop gardens, childcare collective, and all other collectively-run, community-owned
businesses. They plan birthday parties for everyone in the communities for the next year. They decide what
community projects to invest their dividends from their collectively owned businesses. These communities include
barrios, barangays and townships where there is need for mutual support and cooperation.

3. In the near future we envision exchanges between Hate Free Zone’s art programs. This includes art exhibits that
depict multicultural efforts and movements. The Wawakunas have helped spread the values of HFZ, first in
different cities throughout the U.S. then worldwide. The HFZ museum began as a single location in Queens but
began to open many branches in all boroughs.

4. In 20 years, ICE really wants to do a raid, but business owners start contacting each other. There is an
undocumented family at Kabayan and they feel confident that the people around them want to protect them
because they’ve heard about the rapid response network in their neighborhood, and they know their rights.
The owner of Kabayan gets a call with a tip that a raid is happening down the block from the bodega owner.
Good thing the owner of Kabayan just went to an ICE watch training at the DRUM office! At the training, he
got resources that he could share with customers. He also knows that without a specific warrant for people in
the restaurant, he, as a business owner, has the right to turn any customer away and not let ICE in. He tells his
customers that his restaurant is a Hate Free Zone, and that he will provide food and water to everyone until ICE
leaves. The owner at Kabayan then calls the owner at Ihawan and other spots around the block to make sure ICE
isn’t somewhere else nearby. After this experience, the undocumented family becomes a member of Ugnayan and
Hate Free Zones and they recruit their friends and family to be part of it too.

8
 Imagining De-Gentrified Futures
The Picture the Homeless Oral History
Imagine getting on the subway. There are two seats leging of private property over human rights: reflected
on the train. One is next to someone who is visibly in the many ways that policing and gentrification go
homelessness and the other is next to someone else hand in hand. Homeless New Yorkers embody these
riding the train that you don’t know or assume any- intersections. Remember that visibly homeless person
thing about. Who do you chose to sit next to? Who on the subway? What systems of oppression did they
would you invite to be your neighbor? Your comrade? embody? As we work to build a movement to fight
for housing as a human right it is essential to create
Resistance begins with asserting our humanity. structures that ensure that the people most harmed
Collective resistance demands that we identify our by this system are teaching us about how oppression
collective humanity. The only way to disrupt the dom- shows up in their lives and that collectively we create
inant narratives put forth by real estate speculators, opportunities to build the skills we need. This essay
developers, police and even progressive forces that will explore some of the central themes emerging from
seek reform but that don’t change the root causes of the stories of PTH leaders, staff and allies interviewed
our oppression is by uncovering and amplifying the through Picture the Homeless Oral History project.
hidden histories of resistance that are all around us. The quotes featured are all from long time PTH
Those histories of resistance contain lessons that can leaders whose words shine a light and reveal the way
inspire and help to guide our work. Those histories of forward.
resistance do not remain in the past. The rights that Being Welcoming
we do have now are the result of someone fighting for
them. We only know a few of their names and fewer “They’re Not Building Nothing for Me
of their stories. Their work flows into our present and But I Can’t Be Nowhere” Marcus Moore, PTH leader
if we can uncover those lessons, they can help us to PTH welcomed homeless New Yorkers into a political
chart a way forward to a future that we collectively home. Put yourself in the shoes of a homeless New
agree is worth fighting for. Yorker and imagine going through the day and night
without being welcomed anywhere. Not only did PTH
The Picture the Homeless Oral History project docu- welcome folks into our physical space, we welcomed
ments the work of PTH through the stories and anal- them to share
ysis of long time homeless leaders, former staff and “They’re Not Building Nothing for Me
political allies. PTH is the only NYC group whose mis- But I Can’t Be Nowhere” Marcus Moore, PTH leader
sion is to organize homeless New Yorkers. It is a place their knowledge and to engage in collective analysis
where homeless New Yorkers can collectively imagine about the issues impacting them and together iden-
what a just NYC should look like and collectively work tify solutions. Homeless New Yorkers represented the
to create organizing campaigns to change this city for organization in public events: from speaking engage-
the better. The oral histories being collected for this ments to being media spokespeople – transforming
project breathe life into the archive of the first 17 years the “picture” of homelessness and defeating stigma-
of the organization. They tell us what tizing stereotypes.
those decisions and events mean to the people who
made them happen. “They call us eyesores.
They don’t want to see us.
PTH illuminated the multiple systems of oppression They don’t want to look at us.
that contribute to homelessness: extreme poverty, They move us over here
systemic racism, gender discrimination and the privi- Move us over there.

9
 They don’t want us on the main strip, with a lot of people, with tourists.
They’re probably getting complaints from the community
Look at all these people; what are they doing?
The cops come and they tell us there’s too many of us,
So, we’ve got to scatter out; we’ve got to separate.

They’re just like with cattle, just herding us around. You want to go to jail?
Go to the hospital?
I just get up and go.
It’s rough.

It’s a struggle.
It makes you angry, because why is society—why am I in this situation? Why?
There’s got to be a better way.
The only better way there’s going to be is by letting somebody know how it is, talk about it.

That’s how I got into it. I started talking.

Then I got speaking in places and learning how to communicate
And let people know what’s going on
How things are out there
What people are really going through

Everything that we planned

Everything that we organized went through smoothly
Because it was organized and done professionally
And it was done with the backing of people
That really needed and wanted this to happen.

That’s why I like Picture the Homeless

I felt that I got so much accomplished because
People believed in what was happening and what was going on,
They didn’t want to just listen
They acted. They responded.
They made things happen.”
Floyd Parks, PTH leader
Leadership
When we begin to picture homeless New Yorkers as our neighbors, when we choose to sit next
to someone deemed an eyesore then we can begin to harness our collective resources and trace
a new trajectory that allows communities to flourish without being priced out of their neighbor-
hoods. If we allow ourselves to dream one another’s dreams, to plan, and to organize to win
what the State tells us we can’t have and what our friends tell us is “unwinnable” we can begin to
dismantle the systems that divide us.

“We were counting vacant buildings and properties.

We were having a meeting one night and
I got so fired up and mad.

10
 I said, oh my god.
Those could be homes for people.
They don’t have to stay in the freaking shelter.
That was just the beginning of a little seed that has blossomed.

We went out.
They said we couldn’t do it.
We took some vacant buildings and
We counted all these vacant buildings in all five boroughs and
They said we couldn’t do it.”

DeBoRah Dickerson, PTH leader

When we convert our collective dreaming into collective action, we must acknowledge that there
are things we must learn – lessons that the system tries to hide from us. We need to educate one
another and the movements that we’re connected to through bold, direct action. Collective action
and collective reflection creates learning.

Education and Direct Action

“Being at Picture the Homeless it was very important

That we get involved in order to understand the process of the system.
If you didn’t get involved, you would be just part of the system, accepting what was happening to
you. That was the furthest thing from the truth!”
So, we learned how to fight back.
How to write chants.
How to stand up to the government.

We don’t believe that you have the right

To keep us out of these vacant houses
That I know for a fact are vacant.

We learned how to go around and search for vacant property.

We learned how to log property and to research property and to find out who’s the landlord.
At the same time, members
Because this was a member led organization Members were learning how to lead
How to stand up
And fight back.
We learned the importance of speaking to the Senator, or the politician.
And their role.
And when they wouldn’t listen
We had leaders that would show us how to grab your attention through the public eye. How to
get the media’s attention.
What to say and not be tricked.
We would learn these interviewing techniques and
At the same time learn to take that interview to use it

11
 To the advantage of the homeless population.
We learned so much at Picture the Homeless!”
Arvernetta Henry, PTH leader
Resistance Relationships
A de-gentrified New York City rooted in anti-capitalist values that recognizes housing as a human
right will be born from a love that is rooted in collective struggle. There are two primary types of
relationships that PTH leaders and staff consistently mention in their interviews. One is the love for
others, or for neighborhood or the city itself that motivates folks to join PTH and fight for others.
“I suffered a lot over the years.
When I was younger, I was homeless twice. I hit it twice, being homeless!
The first time it was because I couldn’t afford to pay the rent.
My rent was so high.
I didn’t make enough money to pay any rent or anything.
Then when I finally got back on my feet again, I took care of my mother until she passed away and then I
went back to another torture.
I try my best to help someone
By fighting to get them to come back with us, and
“Let’s do it together. Let’s work together to fight the system.”
We’re entitled to what we need.
I mean, we shouldn’t have to go through this.
When I was younger, I didn’t know any better.
I’m older now and I’m wiser, and I’m going to do something better than that.
So, you know, I try my best to stay on top of myself
But I’m always looking out for my fellow citizens, to get that as well.”

Andres Perez, PTH leader

The second type of love are the resistance relationships formed through collective struggle that
gave each of us the strength to take risks, to do things we’ve never done before, to sacrifice their
emotional and physical comfort because someone else at PTH welcomed us into struggle and
would have our backs.
“When there’s pain and there is love, we gravitate towards love.” Rogers, PTH leader
In a de-gentrified future, no one is too poor to afford a roof over their head because housing is a
human right, not a commodity. Buildings and land aren’t vacant: they’re utilized as housing, or
community spaces, schools or gardens, or whatever a community identifies that it needs.
Communities make collective decisions about what they need because we have learned to drop
the stigmas that have been brainwashed in us all by this system, and we replace them with
histories of resistance and solidarity so that we can learn to live together, and love one another
and ourselves.
Listen to the oral histories:
Interview with Nikita Price
https://soundcloud.com/user-637352935/interview-with-nikita-price-december-2-2018
Other members:
https://soundcloud.com/user-637352935/picture-the-homeless-oral-history-project-shorts

12
 by Antoinette Martinez
(member of Protect Sunset Park)
Submitted October 9th, 2020 been one of New York City’s largest walk-to-work
communities and my mom, someone who has never
New York City’s land use policies are racist. We learned to drive, just LOVES that she can walk over
can spend time dissecting this city’s long history of to work. To me Sunset Park is so much more than
redlining and disinvestment to trace how various a neighborhood. It’s been a home to my family for
policies have systematically disenfranchised people decades, a place where our roots have grown, and
of color. But in all honesty, we don’t need to look a community we’ve helped shape and one that has
that far back to see the inequity of these policies helped shape us.
today.
In 2016, when I learned from UPROSE (a celebrat-
Right now, in 2020, land rezonings are tools used to ed local organization fighting for environmental
kick working class families out of the neighborhoods and social justice) that a group of billionaire inves-
they’ve lived in for years. To displace people from tors were looking to turn Sunset Park into the next
the communities they’ve helped build. Williamsburg – it shook me to my core. Sunset park
had been targeted as the next hot spot destination
So, working class communities of color have no for tourism, fancy shops and restaurants, and luxury
choice but to fight back against gentrification and hotels. My family and I were already feeling the
displacement. economic pressures of increased1
rent and the thought of not being able to afford liv-
Have no choice but to demand inclusive community ing in a community my family had lived in for nearly
development, where working mothers, undocument- 4 decades was devastating.
ed families and so many others who are often an
after thought in city policy decisions - work to undo But through years of canvassing, petitioning, rallies,
decades and century old policies that perpetuate Twitter storms, showing up at politician’s houses,
system racism. researching, postering, yelling, and taking up space
works!!! Thousands of Sunset Park residents worked
My name is Antoinette Martinez. I’ve lived in Sunset together to push back against the largest private
Park for all 33 years of my life. It’s where my family, rezoning in NYC history and WON!!
who migrated from Puerto Rico, has lived since 1979
and if you’ve ever met my mother – she’d be proud Industry City withdrew their rezoning application.
to tell you how much she LOVES the neighborhood. Sunset Park was able to successfully rip through the
She might share how she’s lived in the area since developer narrative that described a hard working
she was 19 and how it’s where raised each of her neighborhood as “decrepit”. Can’t tell you how
3 children. She might even happily tell you about many times developers postured themselves as “sav-
the attention she receives on weekend walks along iors” to Sunset Park - forgetting true neighborhood
8th avenue - when children and their families stop heroes are people like my mother, people who’ve
in their tracks to warmly greet her with smiles ex- devoted so much of their lives to this neighborhood
claiming “Hi! Ms. Martinez!” My mother has worked and even in between a full time work schedule, and
as a Daycare assistant with the Brooklyn Chinese carrying for an aging mother in law - still found the
Association in Sunset Park for the last 20 years and time to do her part in fighting against billionaire
has played a major role in teaching and caring for developers who were working hard to uproot her.
neighborhood children. Sunset Park has historically

13
 3 weeks ago Industry City withdrew their rezoning application!! Industry City’s narrative of
bringing 20,000 jobs into the community was shattered. Sunset Park pushed and fought back
against the facade and won! This rezoning was not for the community and would’ve turned
Sunset Park’s waterfront into a luxury mall for the rich.

Now Sunset Park is able to move forward and plan bigger. We deserve a comprehensive
waterfront plan that includes the Sunset Park community and a green future to the Sunset Park
waterfront as outlined in UPROSEs community alternative plan the Green Resilient Industrial
District proposal.

We want and deserve a neighborhood working people can afford. That’s why our families have
fought back - to ensure the future of our neighborhoods are planned with us and for us!

14
 Gentrification
“The Ethnic Cleansing of New York City Neighborhoods”
by Robert Robinson
Gentrification was a word I first started to hear in Miami in 2004 as I was homeless and spending
nights sleeping alongside a luxury apartment building on Miami Beach. Every day as I took the
J-bus over the causeway from Miami Beach to the little Havana area of the city, I would notice the
construction of luxury towers going up quickly next to Biscayne Bay. With a new Convention Cen-
ter being built in the downtown corridor, Biscayne Boulevard was quickly changing its appearance
and the commercial corridor was suddenly seeing for rent signs go up as the current tenants did
not want to sign on to unforeseen rent increases being demanded by landlords looking to collect
their windfall.

In 2006, when I finally found my way back to New York City (NYC), I ended up in a facility de-
signed as a drop-in center but morphed into a shelter due to the number of people looking for a
bed every night. A drop-in center was designed for folks who were homeless to find services such
as food pantries, soup kitchens, clothing and other life essentials. Rather than spend my days in
the drop-in center staring at the walls, I decided to go to the public library and learn as much as
I could about the word— gentrification--- which was constantly in the news, in conversation in
stores and was seemingly a big contributor to the rising population of homeless people across
the city surviving on the streets and living in shelters. Gentrification was taking a toll on traditional
communities inhabited by black and brown people. Communities like Harlem, the South Bronx,
Bushwick, Crown Heights, East New York, Williamsburg and downtown Brooklyn. Hipsters had
started to move into Williamsburg, fancy restaurants came next followed by Starbucks and other
fancy coffee shops.

During my ten months in the New York City shelter I was transformed. I grew up in a working class
family on Long Island with a father that whole heartedly believed in the American Dream. I grew
up with the same set of values drilled into my head by my parents until I ended up homeless in
Miami. Homeless in a shelter in New York City and listening to story after story of --rising rents, low
wage jobs and no sign of a bright future ahead. In fact, the broad brush that homelessness was
being painted with motivated me to better understand housing history in New York and around
the United States. My lived experience and the experiences of others who were in shelter sharing
their stories led me to conclude a theory. I concluded that gentrification, leads to displace-
ment, which leads to criminalization. It seemed to me there was a pre-determined path for
some people. Most of the people seemed to be single black males. In fact people being displaced
had to face narratives such as “you are homeless because you don’t want to work. You want a
handout! You don’t have an education! You have substance use or alcohol abuse. The issue was
being painted with a broad brush while more and more data showed rising rents had a direct
effect on the homeless population in the city. Where’s the brush that paints the issue as a social
issue?

15
 In 2004, the NYC council voted to rezone downtown Brooklyn which should have led to a rental
housing boon for the area. Instead the area was flooded with luxury towers much like I had witnessed
in Miami and now playing out in Brooklyn. The result was mass displacement from bordering commu-
nities like

Fort Greene, Boerum Hill and Clinton Hill. The city council vote was in favor of the downtown rezoning
with only two dissenting voices. The dissenting voices were Charles Barron of East New York Brook-
lyn and Tony Avella from Bayside Queens. It seemed no matter how loud the outcry from affected
communities the city council constantly voted against their constituents and on the side of developers.
With mayor Bloomberg proposing rezoning(s) of neighborhoods across the city, a huge struggle was
about to take hold in NYC. Couple that with the financial crisis of 2008 and it was war. Bloomberg
setting himself up for a third term added fuel to the fire and it was a wakeup call for housing activist
across the city.

The Occupy Movement in 2011 really exposed gentrification and the economic inequality in NYC and
around the country. This gave rise to the 1% and the 99%. The 1% owned 38% of the country’s wealth
and thereby controlled 99% of our lives. Post economic crisis in NYC saw speculation of land and
housing hit all-time highs. Land speculation and the effects of the market translated to a boom in lux-
ury housing construction and the disappearance of one story structures like gas stations and parking
lots. A new mayor was elected running on a platform of a “Tale of Two Cities” a catchy phrase which
was meant to highlight the economic inequality of the city and a promise of change. Instead mayor
DeBlasio bought us more of the same. Rezoning with little or no benefit to long term residents and
more forced displacement from higher rents.

The Fight Back from the Community

Grassroots communities across the city began to organize and come up with plans to upend the
recent trends of luxury construction; removal of rent controlled and stabilized apartments from preser-
vation and building owners trying to capitalize from gentrification. Questions arose about land-- and
how to control land --- especially city owned or public land. How to demand construction that fits
the needs of the communities across the city? How can we demand construction of apartments for
fixed income, low-wage workers and senior citizens? All of whom have a human right to a home! And
remember a shelter is not a home! How can we transform our fundamental relationship to land? This
must happen before we can ever control housing construction. We must control the land-- that hous-
ing sits on. There are many ways to make this change. The most popular at the moment is the com-
munity land trust (CLT) model. A piece of land is given to a group of people in perpetuity. It is owned
and governed collectively by a community. The model of a CLT most often referred to in NYC is the
Cooper Square Community Land Trust which dates back to 1984. One could argue and I would take
up this argument that Cooper Square was created 35 years ago when conditions were much differ-
ent. With development in Manhattan almost out of control and air rights going for almost $500 per
square foot, it is almost impossible to get land given away in perpetuity.

The model I would propose is a more militant approach. An approach that gets the attention of de-
velopers and elected officials would have people taking vacant buildings and redistributing to people

16
 The model I would propose is a more militant approach. An approach that gets the attention of de-
velopers and elected officials would have people taking vacant buildings and redistributing to people
in need. There are many successful models to learn from. The Landless Workers Movement in Brazil
(MST), the European Squatters Collective and the Abahlali baseMonjondo (Shackdwellers) are all
examples of people exercising self-determination.
Another model communities could and should consider is running candidates for city council that
bring a new vision of community development. Housing organizers who come from the communities
most affected can make good candidates. We must elect candidates that understand international
human rights law and are willing to challenge American exceptionalism; that says “the US democra-
cy doesn’t violate human rights”. Well the US doesn’t seem to adhere to the Universal Declaration of
Human Rights (UDHR) *see below.

My Brooklyn community of Bed-Stuy a traditional stronghold of African American people is quickly

changing its hue. The hipsters are moving south from Bushwick and Williamsburg and the Fresh Cold
Pressed juice spots are popping up all over the place. I can’t afford $15.00 for a glass of juice. We
must to take over the vacant spaces before the city is ethnically cleansed!

*The Universal Declaration of Human Rights

Article 25
(1) Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself
and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services,
and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or
other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.
(2) Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born
in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection.

17
 Pati Rodriguez, Mi Casa No Es Su Casa

18
19
20
 Like Gravity on a Tilted Table: Thoughts
on Gentrification’s “Inevitability”
By Samuel Stein
Is gentrification inevitable?

In New York City, we hear this question a lot. In plenty of other places, it wouldn’t make
much sense; in fact, in most of the country (as measured by surface area, if not by population),
gentrification is far less of a concern than that process’s opposite: persistent disinvestment. At
other times in New York City’s history, that question would have been similarly puzzling. In 1974,
even though “brownstoning” and “loft living” had already become cultural and economic
touchstones, no one with their ear to the ground would have claimed that gentrification was
imminent, let alone inevitable, for the city as a whole.

And yet, here we are. Neighborhood after neighborhood seems to go through a similar
process which, while unique in its particular manifestations, always ends the same: the
neighborhood gets too expensive for many of the people who long lived there, and for those like
them who might have moved there. The working-class and often Black, Latino, and Asian com-
munities who not only inhabited but built-up the neighborhoods they lived in – whose labor and
institutions kept those spaces animated in the face of repeated rounds of capital flight or state
violence, and whose cultural production and economic interventions fueled interest in the place
among people who could pay more to live there – are dismissed from their service, displaced from
their homes, and disconnected from their social bonds.

Those who stand to benefit from this state of affairs tend to tell us that such a condition is
inevitable, and even natural. Some celebrate its arrival, claiming that gentrification is actually
good for everyone. Others recognize its ill effects but are resigned to the idea that gentrification is
simply a symptom of the city’s success.

Most New York City housing activists reject both of these narratives. Of course
gentrification isn’t inevitable, we insist – it is instead the result of specific economic and social
policies, all of which could have gone differently. If the federal government had fully funded and
expanded public housing, and had stopped corporate investors from buying up so much of the
country’s housing stock; if city and state governments had strengthened and expanded the rent
laws’ long ago, structured their tax codes to punish housing speculation, and used their land-use
powers to expand social housing into wealthy neighborhoods while restricting luxury development
in poor areas; if the federal reserve had taken action to cool overheated property markets; if we
had a real leftist party in power, or if the tenant movement was stronger and more unified, or if the
labor movement could have pushed up wages faster than rising rents; if these counterfactuals had
come true, gentrification wouldn’t be the force it is today.

21
 Those counterfactuals, however, are just that: an alterative history that did not manifest.
We live in a city where, instead, real estate capitalists have joined with their public allies to produce
a system that makes gentrification so predictably persistent that it feels inevitable. As many people
have noted before me, it has become far easier for most people to imagine the end of the world
than the end of capitalism. Here in New York City, thanks to the long efforts of real estate
boosters in business, government, the media, and academia, it is now easier for most residents to
view gentrification as inevitable than to view de-gentrification as possible.

Given all this, it isn’t wrong to say that if we remain on our present course, New York City’s
gentrification will persist and intensify to the point of inevitability. To call this natural, however,
would be an absurd mystification of our present condition.

Try this thought exercise: picture our city’s land use and housing system as a table built
with one leg slightly taller than all the others, but all four legs touching the floor. If you placed a
marble on the corner with the taller leg and let go, what would happen? The marble would glide
downward toward the opposite corner. Why does it do so? Surely because of the natural force
of gravity, but also for a far more relevant reason: because the tabletop has been designed at a
slope.

That is how our system operates. It is built to produce the kinds of results with which we are
familiar: rising land and property values, gentrification, and displacement in working-class
neighborhoods. Those who naturalize gentrification are mistaking – or misrepresenting – the
system’s slope for the law of gravity. Here in New York, our table has been slanted for so long that
to many of us it seems normal.

We on the left must often engage in defensive anti-gentrification fights against plans and
policies that clearly benefit real estate capital over working-class tenants and communities. We
can conceptualize such campaigns as struggles to keep the city’s designers from extending our
table’s taller leg even further upward. Crucial as such fights are, we must remember that even
when we win them, we have only stopped the table’s slope from steepening. This doesn’t produce
an even surface, or a table that slopes in our direction instead of theirs; it just returns us to the
status quo ante, which is stacked against us and tends toward gentrification.

The task before us is not to reverse gravity, or ignore it: the system is, in fact, constructed
to make gentrification inevitable, or at least highly likely, in more and more places throughout our
city. On this point, the liberals and apologists are not wrong. The task for radicals is to change the
system such that it is no longer true!

This cannot be accomplished through technocratic tinkering with existing market

mechanisms. Unless we take definitive action, the taller table leg will just keep growing higher,
even as the other legs struggle to catch up. Instead, we need a program that lops off the surplus
and returns it to the people.

Off with their leg!

22
 Sunset Park, 2040
Corbin Laedlein, Jess Kulig, Gisselle Jiménez, and Michelle Yun
Sunset Park Popular Assembly
It has been 15 years since The Uprising. Members of the Sunset Park Popular Assembly reflect on
daily life in a liberated East Lenapehoking and how they each contribute to their community.

////

San, age 20:

My day began early, harvesting pumpkins in the milpa that surrounds Sunset Park. In between
poking around the prickly leaves and vines for ripe pumpkins, I’d watch my neighbors go about
their morning routines. I spotted my compa Valerie from the Youth Council passing by on 5th ave
and waved. “Buenos días, San!” she called from the street, “See you tonight!”

Working at the milpa can be hard work, but I enjoy this rotation of my Urban Agroecology ap-
prenticeship more than the oyster and seaweed cooperative at Jamel Floyd Park-- I’ll take scratchy
vines over the freezing water any day. Most of what’s produced by the farm cooperatives gets
distributed to local schools, and it feels good knowing that my work contributes to my community’s
health and autonomy.

At the milpa I work with Auntie Joanne (who can be found with her famous homemade cookies
and cosmetics at the Thursday Night Market) and Don Rigoberto (who’s never caught without
his signature embroidered vest) from the Sindicato de Campesines Urbanes. They can talk a lot, but
they are also great listeners, and so kind--they always make sure to feed me after a morning of
hard work. Today, Don Rigo brought tamales made from our own corn, and Auntie Jo brought
scallion pancakes.

We sat in the orchard for lunch after the harvest. Auntie Jo and Don Rigo talked of how it was
before the Popular Assemblies instituted land reform. Of how our Mother Earth and homes were
called “property” and “real estate”; of how landlords bought and sold them for profit, forcing the
dispossessed and racialized peoples to rent tiny crumbling apartments or to live in the streets, pub-
lic parks, and subways; of how the malgobierno and the political parties ruled from above, serving
the interests of the landlords and bosses while they manipulated our people with false promises
and fear.

Everything we could see – from the milpa, to my apartment building, to the salt marshes of
Manahatta in the distance, had been collectivized and redistributed according to social and
ecological need following The Uprising. The original stewards of this territory, the Lenape, had
rematriated back to their homeland after the fall of the colonial government, and now all deci-
sions over land-use here in East Lenapehoking are made with their consultation and consent.

23
 From where we sat, I could see the memorial to those martyred by the malgobierno’s police, migra,
and military in the northeast corner of the park. I stared at it as Auntie Jo shared that there were
times when she almost lost hope, when fascism seemed inevitable. A truck with a loudspeaker went
up 44th street, reminding us that our neighborhood assembly was this evening. I listened as I ate,
feeling humbled and grateful to those who sacrificed to free the Earth and her people, allowing us,
as Don Rigo says, “to finally be human beings again.”

////

J, age 43:

Hiba, Sofía, and Celeste all stayed home from school today. Everyone’s exhausted from the fun last
night, so we decided to sleep in. Hiba’s aunt and cousin—Amti Souad and Basma—are leaving to
go back to Morocco on Saturday, and Frankie just got back from San Francisco de Macorís, so we
celebrated with food and karaoke in Sunset Park. Hiba spent a lot of time learning to cook with her
aunt this past month, so she made couscous for everyone. It was delicious–especially with all the
vegetables from la milpa. Frankie had everyone rolling on the ground laughing with her throwback
Disney covers. Sofía, of course, was so happy to see her again. Her connection with Frankie is
special.

Frankie and I were the first ones up this morning, so the two of us walked over to see our friends on
54th Street. Shaun and some of the tíos from the block made a huge batch of his famous chick-
en and waffles, so we picked up enough for all of us. Frances gave us some maple syrup that she
tapped in the Bronx, and I had a bottle of hot sauce left from my visit to my sister, which were the
perfect touches for the meal.

Over breakfast, the kids asked us to tell them stories about when we were children. It’s always
fascinating to see their reactions. Even though it hasn’t been that long, their world is so different.
Today, I told them about the time I got my hair cut short for the first time. I loved how my new hair-
cut looked on me, but when I went to school, the kids all laughed at me. One of the teachers even
scolded me when I went to the bathroom, saying, “This is the girls’ restroom.” I tried to explain how
stressful it was, but Sofía and Celeste just giggled. They thought it was so silly that my short hair was
such a big deal!

Amti Souad chimed in, “You think that’s strange? 15 years ago we couldn’t even come here with-
out permission from the government! We tried for years and years, but they just wouldn’t give us
that damn piece of paper! They rarely gave them to people like us...” The kids twisted their faces in
perplexion. They’ve heard about borders and visas and citizenship before, since many of our friends,
family, and neighbors have stories–stories about living in the shadows; stories about being sepa-
rated from loved ones by invisible lines in the sand; stories about crossing those lines, only to suffer
exploitation and oppression on the other side; and stories of being placed inside dark, cold cells. But
they still don’t totally understand. I don’t think I would either. People have freedom to move around
now, and no longer have to fear being thrown into a cold, dark cell by the government.

The kids finished breakfast and got ready to meet their friends at Jamel Floyd Park, close to the site
where the infamous MDC prison once stood. Sometimes I feel jealous of them–jealous that they

24
 never had to go up against the big land developers who wanted to force us all out of the neighbor-
hood, or that they’ll never have to worry about their loved ones being locked behind those drab walls
at MDC. But I’m also grateful for how we’ve been able to transform Sunset Park since The Uprising,
and I’m excited to see what we can continue to make of this world together. And I can’t lie–I do love
seeing the elders’ faces every time Celeste confuses the word “landlord” for “wizard!”

////

Esperanza, age 84:

My morning cafecito tastes better by the window. My neighbors wave to me as they trickle down our
block on their way to work at the waterfront. Saleem, Krystal, Jin Hui, Xiomara, AJ... a knock at the
door. I finish my last sip of coffee and grab my cane to answer it. “Áo zăo, a Señora Esperanza!” Jenni
greets me with a big smile. “I picked an eggplant for you along with some more pigeon pea pods
ready for shelling. I’m running late for my apprenticeship at the bike shop so I’ll catch you at our
meeting later!” She’s taken off before I can thank her.

For the last few years, Jenni has tended my plot on our building’s shared rooftop conuco. It’s my piece
of the Taíno Nation here in Lenapehoking. I miss the thick, humid air of the greenhouse, but I can’t
make the climb up to the roof anymore. Here on the ground I still have our native plant garden, the
blooming tree my mother left me, and the community that grows in its shade. I lean out the window
and ask one of the neighborhood children running up the hill to PS94 to stop and pass me a fistful
of bee balm from the garden.

Unmarried and without children, I never imagined I’d have anyone to leave anything to. When the
pandemic struck, I was at risk and alone. Soon young folks from the Popular Assembly noticed my
solitude and began to bring me groceries and sometimes, from a safe distance, they’d linger to learn
more about me. They resurfaced memories of my childhood in the mountains of Kiskeya where all
we had was each other, the river, and God. It was humble but we had dignity. I stir my pot of sanco-
cho and watch the steam rise to fill the room with the smell of my island.

In the years leading to The Uprising, those young people reminded me our city was made of islas
too, and that we lived on earth and among rivers that could still sustain us and teach us and heal us,
if only we cared for the land in return. They reminded me we still had each other, and that we needed
each other. They said they needed even me. I’d been alone for so long I had forgotten what that felt
like. How could I have known my stories would be fuel for a revolution? How could my mother have
known my name, Esperanza, would be prophetic?

Now I serve with the Elders Council of the Popular Assembly, guided by Lenape elders, to revive and
preserve the knowledge that took generations to accumulate. This month, we on the Safety Commit-
tee prepared a discussion series on peacemaking and restorative justice practices in other communi-
ties in order to continue developing our own practices in Sunset Park. Tonight we’ll study the Mamas
of Rojava, a group of women elders in liberated Syria who have kept their community safe by serving
as mediators between the families they already know and love.

25
 As the late afternoon sun begins to tinge everything gold, Jenni, AJ, Xiomara, Jin Hui, Krystal,
and Saleem drag themselves back up the steep hill of our block and plop down heavily in our
garden like overripe fruit. I carefully bring a tall pitcher of iced bee balm tea to the window sill
and sweeten it with honey from the milpa’s apiary. I give them time to fill their bottles with the
pale pink drink and rest in the breeze under my mother’s tree before we begin our meeting. I
pour myself a glass last. Everything tastes better by the window.

26