Communities are formed when conditions are right- shared interests, beliefs, and a connection to the geographical area. Communities must have a center point, a common meeting ground. Does Mr. Prochnow have a point in saying the city is a lonely place? In this paper I will be examining 3 different ‘communities: University Commons Apartment complex, rural Scandia, MN, and Dinkytown. Through personal interviews, research, and non-participant observation I will seek to explain that a sense of ‘community’ can develop anywhere where there are people willing to foster it regardless of the density or location of the community. Community is not a physical occurrence but an idea formed through a set of people with an emotional commitment to a shared element. I will show that urban and dense settings do not create the urban personality or a lack of community but through urban and rural merging, community formation is founded through stability, continuity, and general common interest anywhere that people are willing to put forth an effort to create community.
At a first glance, urban, suburban, and rural communities, particularly by stereotype, appear to be very different ways of living. Urbanism gives you the hustle and bustle of commerce Monday through Friday, mothers walk to the park with their children in the suburbs, and tractors slow traffic on the highways of the rural towns. There are many theorists who claim to give evidence of these differences and do so adamantly. Wirth declares that in urban life, people substitute primary relationships for secondary ones, in turn weakening our traditional human ties, something also known as “urban personality”. On the other hand, Webber supports his own claim by saying that “Urbanites no longer reside exclusively in metropolitan settlements, nor do ruralites live exclusively in the hitherlands,” (Webber 2003: 472). Urban and rural areas are becoming more and more integrated and the interaction between the two is growing less expensive. Technology is also now available and equally accessible in rural areas as it is in urban areas. This is, as Webber importantly points out as a key incentive for this the blurring of lines between urban and rural settings. It is for this reason that ‘community’ is not only found in rural areas, but wherever people want it to foster.
Conventionally, when we hear the word ‘community’ it reminds many people of the suburbs, community centers, PTA meetings, et cetera, but what is the true meaning of community? Dictionary.com gives definitions ranging from “an assemblage of interacting populations occupying a given area,” to “a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists”. With such variations it is difficult to find a definition broad enough to cover all of the characteristics that a community does. For our purposes here, we will define community as a group of people with some shared element- such as from a situation to interest to lives and values.
Things such as density, heterogeneity, and homogeneity all come into play in the construction of a community. Urban communities tend to be more apt to be formed with less emphasis on physical location and more focused on certain groups of people who share a common interest or belief which brings them together. This, however, does not hold as true for the people of rural areas where there is far less density, and people are brought together more through common geography than shared interests. Though bringing this to another level, it may be the common interest of privacy or space that brings people to a rural area, in turn being the same attraction which draws communities of urbanites together. According to Wirth, this may very well be the case. Urban dwellers are inclined to be dependent on more people for their needs and contentment; therefore they associate themselves with far more groups and organizations than do the people of rural areas. This is what Wirth is referring to when he claims that people of urban areas substitute primary relationships for more secondary ones. There is lots of recognition between people in close quarters, yet most of this communication takes place at an elementary level, particularly if they are not in a place for similar interests (Wirth 2003).
Such secondary relationships, associations almost being the better word, are often found in large apartment complexes in urban areas. For example, take University Commons, a large apartment complex near Dinkytown. This high density complex includes 4 buildings with approximately ## units per building, housing anywhere from 1 to 4 people per unit. This particular apartment would even do the work to find roommates for you. In a personal interview with a University Student and former University Commons resident, Jessica, we discussed the situation. The roommate selection process happened in Jessica’s case. She lived in a 2 bedroom apartment, sharing one bedroom with a close friend, while the other bedroom was occupied by two girls she had not had previous contact with. It is interesting to note that though these four girls shared a common area of laundry, kitchen, and living room, no more than secondary relationships were formed over the course of one year. This is an easy example of an urban personality setting. Most of the people who live in University Commons most likely do have the shared interest of attending school at the University of Minnesota. Being that it is such a large school with many different interests, it attracts an extremely diverse association of people. This setting does not create a ‘community’ of people. Wirth believes that the higher number of people within contact of each other, there develops an affinity for elementary level communication. This elementary level of communication includes general topics which could be believed to be of interest to the general population. The girls that Jessica lived with (excluding her roommate) had almost nothing in common with her besides their mutual attendance at the University. To overcome this lack of community through geography, people in urban areas seek other ways to satisfy their need for a community through organized groups of people with similar interests to themselves.
On the University Commons website it claims that this is a ‘student oriented community’- hence the word ‘community’. However, if one clicks on the ‘community’ tab, you are brought to a page of floor plans, amenities, and a topic called lifestyle which speaks of the attractions of the city of Minneapolis, not its personal building features. Given its location and overall setup [drawing], Jacobs would love to tear this ‘community’ apart. Jacobs says, “…there must be eyes upon the street…” (Jacobs 2003: 116). While containing sidewalks (that go nowhere except around the buildings) that the people who live there use to some extent there is almost no surveillance whatsoever. There are no general businesses within a half of a mile from the complex and the few windows that are at ground level typically shut out the sidewalk with closed curtains. There are also no attractions for people from outside the ‘community’ to go to. It is almost in a sense a gated community, minus the gate and the shared want of safety and privacy which a gate would offer(Jacobs 2003).
One rationale in explaining this lack of community at University Commons, as well as for many other areas of the city, is that the people who reside there do not own their place of residence. They bear no connection to the land around them, many having come from smaller towns farther away. There is so much to take in when living in an urban area that one must pick and choose which is the most important to him, and that more often than not, does not include wherever they happen to be living that year. What use is it to get to know your neighbor when you will both be in different places within the next year? Webber, in talking about the lack of connection that people feel to their physical surroundings, says, “the striking thing about our astronomer, and the millions of people like him engaged in other professions, is how little of his attention and energy he devotes to the concerns of place-defined community.”(Webber 2003: 474). He also mentions how different this view is to that of his grandfather which life was influenced far more by his locality than his interests.
This is the problem of heterogeneity often found in the city. Wirth states, “Wherever large numbers of differently constituted individuals congregate, the process of depersonalization also enters.”(Wirth 2003:101). Wirth would say that this is the product of urban personality, but as we will see later in the Dinkytown example, this is not consistently true for all high density areas, which works against Wirth’s theory. However, in University Commons there was a great deal of depersonalization found here as Jessica described to us. She also told me that each of the apartments were almost exactly the same, so that they are merely functional and not set up for long-term stays. The people living in University Commons, being that a majority of them were students, did tend to assume a temporary status thus feeling little desire to foster a real community (Wirth 2003). However, the temporary status is also true in our Dinkytown example, yet the situation is far from the same.
Instead of nurturing close relationships as the nearby dormitory atmosphere does, the denseness of the people in the buildings and being separated by walls does not lead typically to the creation of primary relations with ones neighbors, as Jessica previously described to me. When asked if she knew or had met any of her apartment neighbors, I was surprised to find that for the most part, she did not know any of them. In fact, Jessica said that it was unusual to see another person in the hallway or outside of the complex. This could be said to result in an alienation of people. But is it the density and heterogeneity of the city that leads to alienation and a lack of community?
The second community I observed was Scandia, Minnesota. Scandia is a small town of about 2,700 people located along the Wisconsin border, northeast of the Twin cities. This situation presents quite a different view from the University Commons ‘community’ setting. Here, many of the houses are not situated near one another and approximately 94% of the people own their homes (Census, 2000), quite the opposite of University Commons. There are, however, quite a few similarities between the two. There is also a substitution of primary relationships for secondary ones here. For instance there is one main ‘ma and pa’ goods store in the downtown area of Scandia. After sitting in my car and observing for about 15 to 20 minutes one Saturday afternoon, I saw many people I recognized, mostly parents of past friends or friends of my parents. There were also several that I was not familiar with, though they seemed comfortable with the area and had most likely lived there for a long time as well. This area of Scandia can be seen as an example of Jacob’s casual public trust, though this is not the city. Jacobs also claims that privacy is of the utmost importance to people of the city, but I believe this extends to those in rural areas as well, for many people of rural areas used to be city dwellers. These small businesses in Scandia give people the casual contact required for trust at a local level. (Jacobs 1992).
The amenities in Scandia include things such as an elementary school, one Lutheran church, two restaurant/bars, a small goods store, gas station, pet food store, and of course, a liquor store. The nearest commercial area outside of Scandia is over ten miles away. This being true, it limits the options of the local people to the same small businesses which increases contact among the general population. The community center is the meeting place of several local clubs and also the home of Scandia’s annual celebration called “Taco Daze,” where tacos are served and a mini (and I mean MINI) carnival is hosted after the parade which takes place the first weekend in September, and has been for over the past 30 years. Jacobs maintains that trust in a community, “grows out of people stopping by at the bar for a beer, getting advice from the grocer and giving advice to the newsstand man…” (Jacobs 1992:56). These small continuous interactions at a local level foster the trust which is combated by the urban personality.
Webber states that cities only exist because having such a high density of people in one area allows for reduced costs of living. Everything begins to increase in expense the more distance you add to it. It could be for this reason that there are simply more families than single people in rural areas (Webber 2003). In Scandia, around 70% of the people are or have been married, and there is also a surprisingly low divorce rate (Census, zip code 55073 2000). Interestingly enough, in an urban area, about 70% of people had never been married (Census 2000). Being that the cost of living tends to run higher in rural areas, it helps to have the support of a possible two incomes which a family lifestyle can offer.
There are no fast food or chain stores in this rural setting either. This aspect alone gives each person a general connection to their physical community in that there is a local economy which depends on the people of the area associating and doing their business at these local enterprises. This local economy that has a long history unites the people of the area, creating a sense of community between them. The local businesses also cater to their local population of families, from the elementary school to businesses closing early, recognizing that there is little demand for nightlife activities.
Upon visiting one of the local bar/restaurants two Friday nights in a row, I observed mostly families or couples of elderly people frequent the restaurant until early evening. As the night approached, I saw many of the same faces the second Friday that I observed the first Friday night. Wirth includes in his argument of Urbanism being a poorer form of social control that within a rural society there is a sense of predictability about it. It is feasible to predict who will socialize with whom and their relationships with each other. He claims that there is a lack of this predictability in the city. General patterns of people could possibly be forecast, yet with the high heterogeneity of an urban area there is an increased sense of complexity and disorder associated with group formation (Wirth 2003).
Interestingly, throughout this rural community, the ‘Urban Personality” can still be found. Whether they are people who simply refuse to be a part of the social community or are people have moved from the city. Many people have been attracted here for the increase of space and privacy that the area offers. The rural area and its low density does offer people a lot of physical privacy, as well as activities not always available in an urban area.
Thus far we have discussed two types of ‘communities’. The Urban apartment complex and a small Minnesotan town. The first bearing a geographical sense of community, but lacking common interests between people, and the second also having a geographical sense of community but also sharing common interests and beliefs. The third type of community that I would like to discuss is one that has less of an influence through geographical area and more of the people are drawn to their ‘community’ through common a attraction and benefits from being members in such a community.
Wirth’s claim that higher density increases social distance and depersonalization is debatable. The University Commons example gives cause for concern here. While it is clear that there is a sense of depersonalization in this cookie cutter type high density housing that does add to social distance, the Dinkytown example is quite the opposite. There is a great deal of personalization throughout Dinkytown as can be seen through the unique local businesses and all of the diverse housing throughout the area. This is similar to a small town that instead of being created by unknown people with corporate offices far away. What is built and which businesses stay afloat are all decided through the personal interests of the local community.
Dinkytown, though urban in location, bears a relatively strong resemblance to a rural town. Most of the restaurants and bars are non-chain and cater specifically to the majority of people in the area. The population in and surrounding Dinkytown is compromised mostly of young adults attending the University of Minnesota. The businesses there understand the wants and needs of this population and therefore most food businesses cater to the night life often associated with young people. Here there is also a small goods store, restaurants, bars, churches, and a few others. As stated before, most of these are locally owned and have a long history with the area. This long history and personal ownership gives the people of the area a sense of belonging. Wirth also makes the point that as more and more youth join the national and international cultures through a college education, the focus and attachment to physical locations is declining. So while most of the student population will not reside in the area but a few years, having these businesses that have been there many years before and will be there many years after gives the students a way to connect to the area even when they only reside there for a few years.
While walking around Dinkytown it is a commonplace to see many familiar faces, just as you would in a small town. In going out to restaurants and bars one can almost expect to be surrounded by recognizable faces be it someone from a class, a neighbor, or friend. This familiarity is at the heart of the spirit of community. It gives one a connection to the area, which is something very unique, particularly in an urban setting. Community can be more complicated in the city, for everyone is drawn to urban areas for different reasons and finding a common interest that is strong enough to persist through all the dissimilarities is very unique. Perhaps the community in a city is not established through residency as found in a rural area, but a combination of geography and mutual wants and needs. Particularly in this Dinkytown example of an urban setting, this is many people’s first home outside that of their parents. So many firsts happen to a person as they begin their life here that it can be overwhelming. Fortunately this uncertainty is also felt by many in the area, bringing them together through their shared experiences.
I would hold both Dinkytown and Scandia to be comparatively strong communities, though they are extremely different. These examples show that the urban personality can exist in any setting, it follows the person, the area does not always bring it upon the person. Urban personality is not created necessarily through urban settings but more by personal preference. ‘Communities’ such as University Commons do not foster a social community, but this is not always an issue for an urban dweller. Webber states that physical location is of decreasing importance because of today’s opportunities to be a part of so many other communities not based on physical locality. He states that “ in a life-space that is not defined by territory and deals with problems that are not local in nature,” (Webber 2003: 474). This contrasts Wirth’s Urban Personality theory in that for Webber people choose the particular environment in which they want to interact with versus the environment shaping the person. For many, urban space merely offers a well-situated position for access to all of the other communities that are of more importance to them than a spatial one (Webber 2003).
Overall, while it can be said that Wirth makes some very good points, as does Webber, their theories are incomplete (though this may be due partly to the era in which they were written). The word ‘community’ encompasses such a broad and complex amount of areas it is hard to exactly pinpoint where it can or cannot be found. Today with the blending of rural and urban peoples, one can no longer state that ‘community’ only exists in small towns or specific organized groups. There will always be people who value a sense of community and those who don’t. Those who do find value in it will either physically place themselves with others who feel this way, also- be it in the middle of the city or the middle of nowhere or find connections through groups be them organized or not. True ‘community’ cannot always be found in highly capitalized situations or through those claiming to have community- it is all through the social effort of the people involved. It cannot be created commercially or merely by association but embracing the bonds of genuine common interests, goals, and beliefs of the people.
University Commons and Dinkytown are both examples of nearby urban areas but extremely different communities. In Dinkytown people are willing to put forth the effort required to enhance the sense of community through utilizing their nearby businesses and using the sidewalks consistently. Scandia is a rural town, yet has features of both urban personality and that of a community, much similar to Dinkytown in that there is a long history and connection of people through locality as well as mutual interests. Urban and dense settings do not create the urban personality or a lack of community but through urban and rural blending, community formation is founded through stability, continuity, and general common interest anywhere that people are willing to put forth an effort to create community.
Bibliography
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Jacobs, Jane. "The Uses of Sidewalks: Contact." In The Death and Life of Great American Cities, by Jane
Jacobs, 55-71. New York: Vintage Books, 1992.

Jacobs, Jane. "THe Uses of Sidewalks: Safety." In The City Reader: Third Edition, 114-118. London:
Routledge, 2003.

Webber, Melvin M. "The Post-City Age." In The City Reade: Third Edition, edited by Richard T LeGates and Frederic
Stout, 470-474. London: Routledge, 2003.

Wirth, Louis. "Urbanism as a Way of Life." In The City Reader: Third Edition, edited by Richard T LeGates
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W.C.= 3,687

We Cannot be Satisfied…

“The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things.” - Plato

What do you think of when you hear the words urban education or inner-city public schools? My guess is that you have thought of things like, crime, drugs, gangs, poor funding, large drop-out rates, poverty, and racial diversity. In the Minneapolis/St. Paul school districts, there are some schools that struggle day after day to maintain federal and state standards. The schools in Minneapolis/St. Paul may not be comparable to the public schools in Chicago or New York, but they do have fears of losing funding, and violence in classrooms. While some of these things are true and very alive within city schools, not all are. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said in 1963, “We cannot be satisfied.” In St. Paul, an elementary school is not satisfied with the inner-city public schools, and is trying to change the face of inner-city education. The school is willing to accept diversity and incorporate it into classrooms. Many people have proposed ideas about why inner-city schools do not work, but I will examine what is working in the inner-city schools.
Comparing inner-city schools to suburban and rural schools may not be the best measurement, but from the outside they do not appear to be dissimilar. The real difference is what happens inside. Children have similar attitudes and levels of intelligence, but what about their backgrounds? According to Craig Anderson, the Curriculum Coordinator/Hamline Liaison at Hancock Hamline University Collaborative Magnet School, the big distinction between urban schools and others are the language and racial barriers and poverty. Around 70 different languages are spoken within St. Paul Public Schools alone (Elazar, 212). Anderson brings with him 11 years of teaching experience within the St. Paul school district and has seen first hand the difficulties that arise as a direct result from language barriers. On average, a majority of the students in urban schools have limited English. Young students often do not speak English at home with their impoverished and immigrant families. University of Minnesota Junior, David Cho, said that while growing up in Brooklyn, New York he received no encouragement from teachers to embrace his Korean culture and language. Cho commented, “I had so much to express, but I was afraid to be myself… I did not want to offend anyone either.” For Cho and many generations of immigrant children, diversity has not and still is not being embraced. Inner-city schools do not all see language barriers as a challenge; some even consider them strengths. Anderson said that at Hancock most children can fluently speak two languages by fourth grade, when most American born children just know English. Anderson commented that he would like to see a politician take a fourth grade level standardized test, in Somali. Of course most would not be able to do so, but young students have their intelligence tested in English just after learning it.
Performance based education has caused many inner-city schools to re-work curriculums and find ways to make up for lost funding. In years past, Federal programs like “No Child Left Behind” have rewarded schools who have preformed well with additional funding and left the other schools, predominantly inner-city schools, with less funding. The initial idea has great potential, but those schools that do not receive the funding to help “at-risk” and troubled students are falling even more behind, thus creating a continuous cycle of lack of education and poverty. [At-risk refers to those students who need extra attention because of their home situation and/or poverty struggles.]
Another downfall of the inner-city schools are the poverty rates and lack of parental support. Do not judge the parents though. It is not that families do not want to support their children; they just do not have the time. Parents are often working two or three jobs to make enough to survive. As in Engels Manchester, parents are “…forced to sacrifice the best qualities of their human nature,” possibly their parenting skills to provide food for dinner every night (Engels 53). Parental support is something that suburban and rural schools have in their favor. Families in rural or suburban areas often have higher paying jobs, and more time to help their children with schoolwork. Even with parents working around the clock, inner-city families struggle with poverty. For a majority of schools in the St. Paul Public School District, most all students receive free and reduced price lunch. At Anderson’s school 85% of the student population is eligible, and at Como Park and Jackson Elementary schools it is 89%, Roosevelt Elementary is at a 94% eligibility rate, where as St. Anthony Park Elementary only 25% of the student population receives free and reduced price lunch (MN Dept. of Educ.). It is obvious that the children attending these schools and other inner-city school have more struggles to manage than those around the rest of the state.
Having to worry about financial problems can seem menial compared to topics like drugs, gangs, and violence. Anderson said that, “Yes, every now and then we will have a student bring a knife or a gun to school, but that happens in the suburbs and rural schools too.” Drugs, gangs, and violence do lurk within St. Paul and Minneapolis schools, but compared to Chicago, Detroit and New York, the pressures are not nearly as high. On the Chicago Public School homepage, you will not find pictures of smiling children learning, or even stories of the great things happening in the area, but rather a picture of a 17 year old young man who went missing and was murdered in March. The story concludes with a plea for information, but nothing about education in Chicago (Chicago Public Schools). While what happened is a horrible occurrence, the school systems homepage looks more like a police report in the paper, than a site for eager children and their parents. The web-page also brings attention to drop-outs with links like “Don’t Drop Out,” and “Getting to the Next Grade” (Chicago Public Schools). A planned poverty stricken reality is being forced into the minds of young children and adults, and the lack of encouragement is scary.
Yet another disturbing norm of urban schools is not preparing or even supporting young minds to attend college. Most children automatically assume that the jobs their parents have will someday be their own, unless they are told they can do otherwise. Author and observational researcher, Jonathan Kozol says in his book, Shame of the Nation, that the low qualities of teachers in some urban areas are “preparing minds for markets” (89). Rather than having dreams of becoming a pilot, a teacher, or a doctor, children are being taught to play pretend as a cashier at Wal-Mart or JCPenney’s (Kozol 90). The lack of encouragement from teachers and administrators leads to a continuation of an impoverished lifestyle for young children and adults. These disturbing thoughts are quickly becoming the norm, but maybe Minnesota can lead the way in inner-city education reform.
Minnesota education has always had a strong history of being a model state for programming. Recently, a decline in full funding and the changing shape of the city has forced the Minnesota Legislature to re-work state budgets. Theorist William J. Wilson, says that during interviews with inner-city residents, people complained o the education system and the overcrowded and poor quality of teachers (128). Concentrated poverty grows in the inner-city with increasing amounts of immigrants, but the suburbs also continue to grow (Wilson 129-133). The phenomenon is something known as “white flight,” where the predominately white privileged class moves further from the inner-city to the suburbs. Another thing that does not work in Minnesota’s education system is how the same programs are applied throughout the state. The same curriculum and distribution of funds do not work for all regions of the state. In the rural districts, schools struggle to keep enrollment up, and usually small towns have to collaborate to create enough of a student base for a school. In the suburbs, the public schools are immense buildings and they graduate anywhere from 300-1000 students a year. Finally, the urban schools struggle with funding because of poor performance rates in at-risk areas.
A case that breaks the barriers of the inner-city stereotype is found in St. Paul. The new insight offered by the elementary school can provide children with alternative futures. Hancock Hamline University Collaborative Magnet Elementary School is located in St. Paul off Snelling Avenue. Hancock is not particularly fancy, nor are its ideas, but it is one of the best schools within the Minneapolis/St. Paul inner-city public school system, at least Craig Anderson thinks so. Rather than teaching children how to be cashiers at Wal-Mart, the school wants to abide by its motto, “College Begins in Kindergarten,” and if you ask any student at the school if they are going to college, the answer will be yes! Because Hancock collaborates with Hamline University, the young students get a chance to visit the university campus, frequently participate in activities, and even work with college students in classrooms. I spoke with Anderson briefly before visiting the school to get a feel of what I should expect on my visit. However, I had already made up my mind as to what Hancock looks like, and that they have a lot of problems with violence, gangs, and drugs. Even after talking with Anderson, I still thought that he may be trying to make his school look better than it actually is. I would find out for myself the following day, what the school is actually like.
Pulling up to Hancock Elementary, the building did not look as inviting as one would think. The brick was an obnoxious red/orange color, but there were a fair amount of windows, except street side wall had none and looked like a wall to a fortress. I parked and walked to the blue doors, three of the four doors were locked, for a means of safety most likely. The school smelled typical of an elementary school, a mixture of sweaty little kids, cafeteria food, and an old building. Walking through the doors, I was immediately greeted by staff, including Craig Anderson. He was finishing up a project of putting together these dark green keyboards. They are like computers with a one by three inch screen to see your typing, and then when finished, the documents get transmitted to a main computer. Anderson said they are about $90, and are less distracting than laptops. Just because the school has these nifty things does not mean they don’t have computers. They have a computer lab full of new Mac’s. The office was very busy; Hamline College students walked in and out and some young kids stopped by to say hi to their favorite staff members.
Next, came the grand tour. Turning right exiting the office, we walked by the first grade classrooms and the science classroom. Jackets and backpacks lined the hallway hanging on hooks three feet from the floor. Papers were sticking out of unzipped backpacks and the first graders beautiful handmade artwork hung on the walls. Every class has a display area to show off their work, in all subjects. Some classes painted group murals, others wrote books with a beginning, middle, and an end, and others had done finger paintings. With the added color from the students’ projects the halls looked much brighter and inviting.
Further down the hall to the right stands the cafeteria. The room is mainly gray, and contains several round tables. Anderson said that the school prefers the round tables, because the kids are more likely to interact. The cafeteria also houses a stage and a gym-like floor for additional play space. However, the real gymnasium is right next to the cafeteria. I did not get the chance to steal a peak, but I heard balls hitting the doors, running feet and little shrieks of joy. My guess is that the kids were playing a game of dodge ball. Continuing walking, we stopped and chatted with a special education teacher and one of her students. They were playing tennis with a large yellow balloon, and the rackets were made of mesh - they were pretty cool! We then walked through two wooden doors into what appeared to be an entirely separate school.
We had just entered the Learning Center, which actually is a school within Hancock that focuses on education for children with behavior issues. Anderson said that the main goal of the Learning Center is to provide more attention to children who have struggled with behavioral issues at other schools. There are three teachers with their own classrooms and nine students in each class. The interesting thing is, almost every child has someone to work with throughout the entire day, as there are many Hamline students who help specifically in that area. The children were extremely welcoming and those that were in the hallway were curious and eager to find out who I was. There were individual study rooms for the Learning Center students and a lot of positive guidance and instruction. It looked like the rest of the school, except for two things. Number one, the children in the Learning Center were mostly boys and number two; the walls were not as decorated with bright colors. The walls bothered me; I felt that every inch should be covered in color or art projects. Because the children attend school behind closed doors and the walls are more bare, the atmosphere almost feels like a delinquent center. While leaving the Learning Center, I again got curious smiles from the children I passed. I secretly hoped that Hancock would be able to redirect the lives of these young children to prove the stereotypical statistics wrong.
Walking again past the special education teacher and her student, they both wanted to talk again with Anderson. Even though he is new at the school as of December, all the children and staff know him. I know for a fact that he is great with children, because he is my cousin’s husband and their three year old daughter, Emily, is extremely social and intelligent. Retracing our steps past the main office, we walked into the main part of the building where grades two through six are housed. Coming to a crossway, I looked both ways and again saw the backpacks and jackets hanging from the walls, and artwork filling the white walls. There were students lined up ready to go to science class. The children all looked happy and energetic, and were extremely patient. As the second graders walked past Anderson and me, they all greeted him with a wave or a smile, very polite young children! I went into some of the classrooms, and while they were all the same size, the set ups were different. Anderson said the teachers have a lot of decision-making power when it comes to curriculums, teaching styles, and room design. All the teachers from a certain grade work together to plan lessons, and they work together to come up with ideas for going above the state standards. I wondered if this is the norm for most teachers throughout Minnesota. Anderson said the teachers at Hancock have more liberty to control what happens in their classrooms. In some classrooms, the students were working on art projects, some were reading or being read to, and others were working on math.
There are some classrooms specifically devoted to teaching English. Hancock is one of the few schools in St. Paul to teach English so intensively. This is because 62% of Hancock’s students have limited English (MN Dept. of Educ.). Anderson said the school receives additional funding for the programming from the State of Minnesota. The idea of the program is to begin teaching the basics of education in their native language, and then the students begin to learn English. With over 70 different languages spoken in St. Paul Public Schools and many children are first or second generation immigrants, English is limited. In the South Bronx of New York City, teachers would sometimes give children the silent treatment if they would speak another language (Kozol 65). Cho says that being allowed to speak native languages in classrooms would allow for ethnic awareness and chance to embrace diversity. Despite the difficulty of language barriers, Hancock is succeeding. Anderson credits the principal and staff for embracing diversity and native languages, rather than forbidding students to use them.
Continuing my tour around the school, we walked up recently muddied stairs from recess, to the library. Walking into the library I thought, this is not very impressive, with its drab walls and old carpet, but I was told it was fantastic. The library was well organized and well resourced. Colorful books were stacked so tightly together in a strategic order to maximize space, and there were small reading spaces for the children. A class was being read a book in the library, but Anderson wanted to show me another collection. Walking quietly behind the small students I entered a partitioned-off space full of books in clear, zip lock bags. Anderson said, “It may not look impressive, but schools want this, and not many have it.” The zip lock bags contained approximately five books that fit a certain reading level. The scale goes all the way through A1 to Z8, with eight levels for each letter. This system easily allows teachers to assess a student’s reading and comprehension skills. In every classroom, there are various skill levels, because when a first generation immigrant who is ten years old enters the school, they do not get placed with the kindergartners, they get to join other ten year olds. The idea is simple, but costly. There are books of all types for a specific level, and there are a lot of books! Another section of books consists of example books. If a teacher wants students to learn about writing biographies or poetry, then he or she would take either a green or orange coded book, to show a good solid example. The libraries books also catered to diversity. The books featured stories of not only white children, but children of all races and backgrounds. Sharon Zukin, a sociologists, looks at symbolism and how short stories and inner-city art affect an urban society (136). The library’s book selection creates a positive atmosphere for all of the students. After seeing and hearing about all the great things the library has to offer, I saw the library as a learning resource rather than a cramped space with old carpet.
Craig Anderson continued to lead me up the stairs to the fourth, fifth and sixth grade classrooms. While the rooms looked similar in the fourth and fifth grade classes, the sixth graders used a rotation system for all subject. To get the students ready for middle school or junior high, they have a home-room, and move from classroom to classroom to learn different subjects. Anderson said the teachers also opted for this teaching method, because they all specialize in a certain area - math, reading, or social studies. After learning so much about the school and the various methods of teaching, I cannot figure out why schools are not doing more to accept children from all races, and embracing the diversity and multiple languages that are spoken.
Hancock is a typical elementary school, but its collaboration with Hamline sets it apart. According to Anderson more than sixty Hamline students use their work-study funds to help directly in Hancock classrooms all day. This additional attention helps “at-risk” children focus on their work and understand the skills needed to complete it. There are so many inner-city schools located near colleges and universities that do not have programs like Hancock’s. Tuttle School, located in the Como neighborhood near the University of Minnesota is struggling to meet standards. If they looked into a program such as Hancock’s, the school could become one of the best in Minneapolis.
Not every elementary school can have Hamline or another college campus near by, so to help work with the big picture problems, new legislation needs to result. Funding is another key component to a school’s success. Hancock succeeds with its intensive and respectable English learning program because the state of Minnesota funds programs to teach children English. Anderson said that Minnesota is one of the few states that actually allots money for the programming. Funding from the state arrives if the pre-set state standards are met. The Education Budgeting Committee in the Minnesota State Senate and House of Representatives meets every year to discuss how schools should receive funding and what programs can be instituted.
Craig Anderson suggests that our education system has become too political. Politicians place education reform and programming on their agendas to win votes. Famous theorists also weigh in on aspects of the urban education system. Friedrich Engels wrote of Manchester during the boom of industrial capitalism, when the bourgeoisie and the proletariat struggled to overcome one another. In terms of the wealthy bourgeois and the impoverished proletariat the classic rich vs. poor clash shows through even in today’s modern society. Engels writes, “Society, composed wholly of atoms, does not trouble itself about them; leaves them to care for themselves and their families, yet supplies them no means of doing this in an efficient and permanent manner” (Engels 66). How is it that after 150 years has passed and we are still not providing people with a means to advance themselves? Education is the key to development, the key dream, the chance to change the life path laid out by privileged white males. The poverty Engels discusses is just as alive today as it was when he wrote about it. Now, add to poverty, the issues of race, gender, immigration, and language barriers, and the whole things looks like a mess! Engels would be disgusted by what our world has become. After clearly writing about the struggles and poverty of the working class, one would think we would have learned to correct our mistakes over a 150- year time period. But, maybe there is still hope that things will eventually change, even if it is at a slow rate.
A lot of cities try to shut-out and invisibly barricade-off the poor from certain neighborhoods, but Hamline University grounds have broken down class barriers. Sharon Zukin, author of “Whose Culture? Whose City?” talks specifically about the use of public space. In parks relationships between the rich and the poor are strained, and intermingling is near non-existent. Even though public space is supposed to be public, many people feel unwanted or shut out by looks and stares. Looking at the inner-city education system from Zukin’s perspective, the use of public space and resources is not applicable. School trips to parks costs additional funding, computers may actually connect children from poverty to the rest of the world, but again they are often too expensive. Hancock Elementary has broken the laws and theories of Zukin. The children that attend the school walk around Hamline University as if it were their own. And, on any given day predominately privileged college students and poor elementary school students can be found working and learning together. The invisible wall is broken and progress is being made.
Day after day we watch the urban education system get defeated. Extra funding is denied, programs are cut and drop-out rates exceed graduation-rates. The system never wins, and continually sends its students on the way to becoming cashiers at Wal-Mart. Children need to be given chances to escape the pressures that lead to gang activity, drugs, and violence often found in inner-city schools of Chicago and New York. In St. Paul, great things are happening with collaboration and balanced budgeting. Hancock Elementary is using Hamline University as a resource to provide additional attention to young children who struggle with serious life issues. With the right programming, encouragement, embracing diversity, and working with native languages the inner-city schools can truly educate. Hancock Elementary is redefining theories of poverty and public space which could lead to new legislation. Education is a necessity that should be of high quality and readily available. Plato said, “The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things,” and a positive, supportive atmosphere will do just that.

Bibliography
Anderson, Craig. Personal Interview. 7 April 2007.
Chicago Public Schools. Accessed on 10 April, 2007. http://www.cps.k12.il.us/. 2005.
Cho, David. Personal Interview. 29 April 2007.
Elazar, Daniel J., Virgina Gray, and Wyman Spano. Minnesota Politics and Government.
Lincoln, NB: University of Nebraska Press, 1999.
Engels, Friedrich: “The Great Towns.” In City Reader, edited by: Richard T. LeGates
and Frederic Stout, 58-66. London: Routledge, 2005.
Kozol, Jonathan. The Shame of the Nation: The Restoration of Apartheid Schooling in
America. New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005.
Minnesota Department of Education. Accessed on 7 April, 2007.
http://education.state.mn.us/ReportCard2005/school DistrictInfo.do
St. Paul Public Schools. Accessed on 7 April, 2007. http://www.spps.org/.
Wilson, William J.: “From Institutional to Jobless Ghettos.” In City Reader, edited by

Richard T. LeGates and Frederic Stout, 126-135 London: Routledge, 2005.

Zukin, Sharon: “Whose Culture? Whose City?” In City Reader, edited by Richard T.

LeGates and Frederic Stout, 136-146. London: Routledge, 2005.

Queerness has become far more a façade of materialism than an identity defining ones sexuality. Literally, queer means non-heterosexual, a term based out of a political movement in the 80s, yet the subculture built around non-heterosexuality is defined by space and identity markings that have little to do with the act of sex or politics. The queer space and identity in Minneapolis reflects the operations of complex mechanisms in a post-city age. By examining everyday café and bar culture, it is evident that the local scene is greatly influenced by the global scheme.
Over the past few weeks, I have frequented queer bars and cafes aiming to understand how the queer subculture and space is greatly affected by the drive of capitalism, expansive technological transformations, and the symbolic economy. In “Society of the Spectacle”, Debord describes the city’s social space as “invaded by a continuous superimposition of geological layers of commodities” (Debord, #42). Technology facilitates the multiplication of symbols encouraging mass consumption of identity. Consequently, queer identity is rapidly commodified, causing fragmentation and alienation of queer individuals. In Minneapolis, the question arose of whether or not these trends had affected queer identity in the Twin Cities. Using participant observation, I studied and took note of various perspectives and intimate details surrounding the queer community. I interviewed regulars at the café Vera’s and casually talked with friends and strangers at the bar Pi. In general, I found that the queer spaces in Minneapolis reflect the trends of globalization and technological advances worldwide; the queer identity is an individual expression manufactured by a symbolic economy at large.
Globalization has amplified the homogenization of culture, generated by the technological revolution and the rise of capitalism. The proliferation of the Starbucks Coffee chain throughout the world exemplifies the spread of uniform culture and the depletion of local identities and customs. The homogenization of culture causes local space to be anonymous and impersonal, breaking down the level of local community. For example, in Wisconsin Dells, the presence of the queer resort and bar Captain Dix is contrasted with a homophobic town where there is no other queer space. The effects of urbanization have led to the spread of queer commodities and spaces around the nation, even in places where local culture has no understanding of queer symbols.
Specifically, in queer culture, these effects are noticeable in homo-normative spaces such as the bars like Captain Dix. Although Captain Dix offers a sense of belonging that is absent in less condensed areas, Bell argues that these spaces can become highly sexualized and quite exclusive, what he names “homonormative” (Bell, 2004). Spaces called ‘gay ghettos’, found in Chicago and San Francisco, are often homogeneous and elitist. Homonormativity is perpetuated by capitalism and commodification through the media and merchandise. In Minneapolis, queer bars and cafes are exclusive spaces, and have become interwoven with Internet and television culture, providing both publicly and privately accessible gay spaces. Cyberspace links public and private spaces across the world, and in turn these spaces reflect the images and information generated by the mass media.
The space of flows described by Castells is “the network of places that are connected around one common, simultaneous social practice via these electronic circuits and their ancillary systems”. (Stalder, 148) The internet and cell phones are the primary form of communication, and represents the space of flows dominating our lives. Citizens have become reliant on various technologies that generate information that can be accessed globally. This in turn causes a new construction of space and time. Proximity to the newest information is reached digitally and instantaneously, continuously influencing the identities of queer actors. In the United States, it is questionable whether any places are not affected by the dominance of information technology. An individual can expect the same queer symbols and products in cities across the world, regardless of local culture. Honduran television networks air episodes of Will and Grace, for example. In Minneapolis, queer bars are a montage of international queer style with a Midwestern flare. Urbanites are not limited to the physical space of a city, because new communities are formed digitally. In Vera’s Café, located in Uptown, most of the men I interviewed used the internet to make sexual encounters possible, and in general as a way to secure their queer identity.

Vera’s Café, Minneapolis, 8:30 pm
There are fifteen people, thirteen men and two women. It’s an all-white customer base tonight. Five laptops are on tables, and most of the customers are either reading, writing, or typing while they sip their drinks. The environment is not social; I can hear the man eating across the room. The man sitting alone, Scott, goes to Vera’s twice a month. He feels obligated to support the place, as a gay citizen. He is sober, and doesn’t approve of the bar scene. Another man said that he drives all the way from St. Paul to frequent the coffee shop, but has trouble meeting anyone. The food is overpriced, as well as the drinks. I spent ten dollars for a cup of tea and a tiny slice of cake. I asked the barista whether it seems like a usual night at Vera’s. “Different shifts bring in different demographics,” he replied.
Eventually, I joined a table of three men. One man is 69, while his comrades are both 22. The older man reminisces of the 1970’s, when the spots to meet other gay men were in parks. “Before technology, we relied on cafes. Now, local culture is international,” the older man commented. The men had an understanding of the relationship between the international and regional queer scenes. All of the men compared Minneapolis to other cities that they had visited, evaluating their queer scenes. “Minneapolis is more spread out; there is no gay ghetto.”
The younger men recommend the bar, Saloon, if you want sex. According to the men, Thursday night is for “teeny weenies, anorexic twigs, shaved entire body men”, Friday night is for “not so yuppie 20 types” and Saturday is the “theme dance blue collar hard core gay bodied dance music night (no strippers)”. They both confess their addictions to Manhunt.com and Myspace.com. These sites are places in which the private becomes public. “You go to a bar and say, you are that man with the 10-incher.”
In Vera’s it seems that the generational divide is based upon the expansion of technology, and the different understandings of what it means to be a queer citizen. For example, the 69 year –old man had never heard of manhunt.com and said to have never relied on the internet for social networking. The younger men were well tapped into the digital aspects of gay life as well as the local bar scene. Both of them reported spending more time on manhunt.com and myspace.com than at queer bars or cafes. Furthermore, Saloon, their favorite gay bar has two computers on which they have observed others surfing manhunt.com.
The queer community of Minneapolis can use the digital world in order to claim more queer space and to solidify queer identity. The privacy and anonymity of the internet facilitates hook-ups and strengthens the proximity of queer individuals to each other. There is no longer a need for the high density areas of queers because of the changing proximity reached through the internet subculture. While individuals rely on technology for communication, they also create associations with products and identity.
In the Cultures of Cities, Zukin relates lifestyle and culture directly to marketing. The class hierarchy is defined by spaces that attract and detract people based upon their access to capital. Queer marketing is aimed at individuals with access to privilege, and creates environments of exclusion. Queer culture is separate from other cultures, and queer space has its own specifically queer cultural commodities. Pride, a week long celebration of queer identity, is a good example of how the local space is overrun by the anonymous global corporate culture. Loring Park, a neighborhood that used to have a reputation as “the gay neighborhood” in Minneapolis, hosts Pride each year. Rather than social interaction being the primary purpose, advertising and consumption becomes the ultimate goal. Pride is a spectacle, where every kind of plastic is stamped with a rainbow and every company suddenly becomes queer friendly. Nearly every float has a brand name or product attached to it most of which have nothing to do with queer culture. Bud Light floats drive in the parade of corporate support, tossing out cups to the queer spectators; Saturn drives their rainbow color cars down Hennepin Avenue to the supportive shrieks of the gays on the sidewalks.
The symbolic queer culture in Minneapolis can be observed in specific places that are marked with visual and cultural signs, such as the infamous rainbow. Bars such as the Saloon or Pi, and the queer culture they embody, are expected to be similar from city to city. Although there are variations in style, the same “gay” music playing in the Saloon on Saturday night is assumed to be the same “gay” music found in Boston’s queer bars. When observing the everyday rituals in these spaces, one can see the reflections of a greater system that generates these inklings of a homogenous queer culture, such as “identity talk” or dress. Similar clothing, haircuts, piercings, and tattoos are worn around the world to visually represent queerness. This assumption, which more often than not is proven true, reflects the strength of the “gay” identity in our culture. The “gay” identity is sometimes overbearing to queer individuals. Because queer identity has become based upon the manifestation of queer commodities, it has caused queers to be alienated and fragmented. Queer people, such as the local lesbian bar crowd, must constantly reaffirm their queerness by living up to media-produced stereotypes of what a lesbian should act and dress like.

Pi, Minneapolis, 11:00 pm
Pi is a bar located in South Minneapolis, and just recently opened as the first bar for queer women in Minneapolis. The owner, Tara, moved from San Francisco and realized the need for a space for queer women. She was definitely right; the opening night nearly exceeded the bar’s capacity. Designated queer space provides a reaffirmation of queer identity. Twilight, a monthly queer women’s night at the bar Kitty Kat Klub, used to be the only bar that attracted the majority of queer women in a one night time span. Friday night of last week, I noticed a severe decline in the regular clientele of Pi. I asked a woman standing near me why it was emptier than usual, and she explained that there had been a split, half attending Twilight and half going to Pi. The importance of queer space is apparent, and yet there is nothing unusually special about the space. The most common activity at the bar is drinking, playing pool and dancing, like most bars. Lesbians crowd around the pool tables, showing off their smooth shots. Many butch women work at the bar, walking through the space with radiating confidence in a uniform of short hair, tattoos, and piercings. The bar attracts nationally renowned queer musicians like Bitch, Scream Club, local queer bands such as Tough Tough Skin and Grace Darling. When there aren't live performances, there is usually a video of Betty Paige and other sex symbols dancing, stripping, and touching themselves. The presence of queer imagery, including the people who attend Pi, defines the space as queer.
Although the trends in the lesbian community don't seem to be as strict as the gay community, style is becoming more intertwined with lesbian communities, and more expensive to emulate. Hair seems to be the most important aspect of queer identity for women; faux-hawks, shaved heads, dreads, dyed hair, etc are all common hairstyles that signify alternative culture, some specifically lesbian. By creating this stylized atmosphere, it creates exclusion and ultimately detraction from straight culture. For example, the Gay 90's, is referred to as a straight ghetto bar with a gay facade. This is because of the predominant “straight” style, and also the greater presence of people of color whose primary visual marking is race rather than sexuality. At Pi, there is definitely a lesbian subculture, determined by an international awareness of what it means to be a queer woman. The stylized queer subculture becomes significantly proximate as well as contagious.
The symbolic economy and technology facilitate the enhancement of trends promoting the commodification of queer culture. This ultimately causes exclusion based on a queer social actor’s access to cultural capital. A recent article in the New York Times entitled “Gay by Design, or a Lifestyle Choice” elucidates this point. The author, Alex Williams, hypothesizes that certain cars are predominantly owned by queer people. He seeks to find reasoning behind this by questioning if it is their lifestyles or merely coincidence that they own these cars (Associated Press, 2007). Corporations invest in queers as valuable consumers, and queerness becomes equated with how much purchasing power an individual has rather than a political movement aimed at removing hetero-normativity. Instead, the symbolic economy reproduces a new binary, creating a society of homo-normativity, where people buy certain items and ideas that are marketed as queer.
The support of corporations has to do with a statistical knowledge that gay consumers have a higher disposable income. According to an article concerned with gay identity and consumerism, “The purchasing power of the U.S. gay and lesbian population will hit an estimated $610 billion…75 percent have incomes above the national average” (Associated Press, 2007). This dubious statistic is an example of the way in which capital has embraced gay identity.
The alienation and fragmentation of the queer individual is caused by the linking of identity and capital. One must buy their queer identity in order to be recognized as a “normal” queer citizen. You must buy designer clothes to stock your walk-in closet in your new condominium on the river; you must drive a Saturn or a Subaru, of course, either: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, or violet with a sticker of all of them together stuck on the back. Following these injunctive norms places one in a position of being an ideal queer citizen. It also perpetuates the symbolic economy that facilitates the production of queer space.
Queer spaces are often places of segregation, naturally attracting a particular clientele. In Minneapolis, the queer scene has been dominated by the “gay yuppie”. This identity has been over-represented in the mass media, and continues to diffuse into the city’s symbolic economy and visual style. The gay yuppie lives in gentrified neighborhoods, frequents overpriced cafes, and shops for three hundred dollar shoes. He is white, attractive, bitchy, and wealthy. This image is so prevalent because of the trends generated by the mass media, and the corporate support of wealthy homosexuals. The clientele that patronize Vera’s and Pi are influenced by television shows such as Will and Grace and The L-Word.

The L-Word, television, 9:00pm
Watching the lives of a group of affluent lesbians on television has great influence on how people define and express queer identity. The L-Word is a television show that has gained the attention of lesbians in the Twin Cities and all over the world. The television show offers plenty of racy sex scenes and stereotypes of the queer community. The L-Word is one of the only television shows that represent individuals with a lesbian lifestyle, and most viewers are dedicated to watching it every Sunday night.
“Just a little L Word love... Woo Hoo... sexyyyyyy! I host Sunday night L Word with my friends,” one Myspace user posted on her profile. I asked four women which character on the L-Word they identified with. Liz said, “none of them, it’s just hot people having sex…it’s a treat, like black people watching BET.” Joanna responded, “I was Dana, extremely insecure…wouldn’t come out to my parents until I’m in my 30’s.” Madeline said, “I want to be like Shane, but I’m not at all. She’s really hot and sultry.” Finally, Elana said, “I’m a mix between Jenny and Bette. I’m a writer, I date a lot of people, and I can be really assertive.”
Interestingly, many lesbians take on the roles and styles of the L-Word characters. There are even online quizzes that tell you which character you are and many queer identified girls have L-word graphics for their Myspace pages and post the results of their “which character are you” quizzes so people can have insight into who they are, (as far as the L-word cast goes). One lesbian expressed that the only thing she has in common with other lesbians nationally is probably the L-word. This demonstrates how queer identity is tied to the mass media, and how the mass media perpetuates stereotypes and imagery found in queer culture. It reifies the theory of an informational city causing a dualistic space of places and the space of flows. By tapping into mainstream queer culture found on television shows, identity becomes solidified as both internationally and locally valid.
Networking is a large part of being queer in a place dominated by straight culture and norms. At Pi, I asked a table of friends to draw the “chart” in my notebook. The chart, popularized by the L-Word, links together anyone who has slept together by drawing lines and names on paper. There were five people, three of the people who had sex with the same girl. The other girls were connected sexually through the other girls, and names were tossed out casually, until we had at least thirty or forty names written down, most of them connected by a few “star” lesbians. There seemed to be no shame linked with casual sex, just laughter and possible regret. There also appears to be pride in sleeping with multiple partners. The website, Ourchart.com, is a space for queer people (mostly queer women) to network similar to myspace.com. The concept of the chart reaffirms queer identity and space. The chart connects queers beyond physical proximity. By linking together a nation of queers through sex and relationships, there is a sense of mild embarrassment but more so self-validity.
Pi, Vera’s, and the L-word fan club are examples of the international dominance of a local queer scene, by way of technological and economic means. The field work supported Castells’ theory that the space of flows is becoming more frequently occupied, and the space of places that remain are in constant tension between a global and local environment. Castells explained, “Modern urbanism emerges as an extraordinarily complex and dynamic sociotechnical process” (Stalder, 162). Overall, Minneapolis's queer spaces reflect the constant interaction between the space of places and the space of flows that occurs due to this post-city age. There is a noticeable reliance on Internet culture, television shows, and internationally renowned music in local environments. There is a homogenous style that fills queer-marked space. The mass media provides a centralization that is omnipresent, that permeates the nodes of local culture. The symbolic economy that Zukin describes in The Cultures of Cities is apparent in Minneapolis’ local scene. Because these spaces are dominated by stereotypical imagery, they can be quite exclusive. Queer has become synonymous with consumption of material goods marked as queer. The queer identity in general has shifted greatly due to the technological expansion, and the resulting globalization of queerness.
Although these changes are rapidly taking a hold of Minneapolis’s queer scene, there is hope that a mass realization of the capitalist identity trap will take place. Many people are already standing up against the rising price and commodification of queer identity. The queer movement was a movement with an underlying mission, to promote inclusion. Although most queer businesses tend to be exclusive, there are some places that seem to be more affordable or more accepting of variation than others. Moreover, hopefully people will stop relying on commodities to reaffirm their identity, and become more involved in a life that has more meaningful interactions than perhaps messaging through Myspace.com. People have the choice to refuse “solidifying” their queer identity by following Saloon’s dance night itinerary. Globalization in some ways gave Minneapolis queer space, and in other ways, colonized the queer citizens.

Works Cited

Bell, David and Jon Binnie. "Authenticating Queer Space: Citizenship, Urbanism and Governance." Urban Studies,

2004, 41(9):1807-1820.

Castells, Manuel. "European Cities, the Informational Society, and the Global Economy." The City Reader. Ed. Richard

T. Legates and Frederic Stout. Third ed. London, England: Routledge, 1993. 475-485.

Debord, Guy. “Society of the Spectacle”. Detroit: Black and Red, 1983.

The Associated Press, “U.S. Corporations Bolstering Gay Pride,” Human Rights

Campaign, http://www.hrc.org

Stalder, Felix. “Manuel Castells.” Malden: Polity Press, 2006.

Zukin, Sharon. The Cultures of Cities. London: Blackwell, 1995.

There are countless parts working together and fueling each other that make up and define a modern American City. One of the most complicated and stunning creations over the last century is the uprising of the modern American city, and everything associated with them. From the towering skyscrapers, to the mega malls, to the endless housing developments, everywhere you look the modern city keeps growing. As to be expected, not only are the physical aspects of the city increasing, but the number of inhabitants that live, work, travel, and use these cities also continues to flourish. Countless lives are intertwined within the city limits, with most people being unaware of the interactions they create everyday. Everything in a city has an effect on something or somebody else, and without these causes and effects, a city would be nothing more than a ghost town. However, one aspect of cities that I wanted to focus some research on, sometimes are not associated with cities at all.
Neighborhoods, especially suburban neighborhoods, are growing at a rapid pace to help accommodate the inflation on the population of cities. There is no doubt that although not direct parts of the city, suburban neighborhoods serve as direct links to the big city for millions across the country. So what kind of links do these suburbs provide? In my research, I wanted to observe several different types of neighborhoods around a big city, and look for similarities and differences associated with each one. Additionally, I was interested on how several aspects of human interaction vary from neighborhood to neighborhood. I looked at two neighborhoods in the twin cities area, a lower class urban neighborhood near downtown, as well as a middle class suburban neighborhood 15 miles west of the cites. Additionally, I observed, from an outsider’s perspective, a gated community neighborhood in Ft. Myers, Florida. The similarities and differences were abundant, and provided me with very distinct views on how the day-to-day operations of these neighborhoods contribute to a major city. I focused on incorporating three theorists and their perspectives into my research, which allowed me to make connections in more ways that I thought. First, I utilized Janet Abu-Lughod’s views on the physical structure of cities, and how that affects interactions between people and their community. Second, I looked at Jane Jacobs and her theory of a “sidewalk ballet,” and the importance of interactions and forming personal “ties” within the city. Finally, I took a quick look at Frank Lloyd Wright and his idea of a “Broadacre City.” All of these theorists aided my research and allowed me to observe my surroundings in a completely new light.
The first neighborhood I observed, was located in uptown, and is an extremely urbanized neighborhood. Located off 3rd ave. and Lake Street, this neighborhood is in a very high dense area, populated by mostly lower income individuals. I was visiting a friend who lives there and I was able to observe the actions of the inhabitants of the neighborhood. The first thing I took into account was the structural and physical layout of the neighborhood. I looked at not only the houses, but the streets, sidewalks, shops, buildings, alleys, organic components, and the overall structural layout of the neighborhood. The narrow, often one-way streets, are lined on both sides with mostly two level houses. There is very little space between each structure, with properties seemingly blending together, barring the use of fences or shrubbery. Sidewalks line both sides of the street, and extend to the front doors of the houses before continuing down the street. Following the sidewalk, a housing development may turn into an auto repair shop, food market, or laundromat. Alleys are shared and used by multiple people, often leading to backyards, garages, or receiving docks. Organic components are limited to trees that dot the streets, and wallowing bushes. Traffic is continuous whether on the side streets, or the main drag, cars are abundant and a fixed part of the neighborhood.
In an excerpt from her piece “The Islamic City: Historic Myths, Islamic Essence, and Contemporary Relevance,” Janet Abu-Lughod reveals how several forces gave life to cities of the past, and the effects those forces had on the population, and how the city functions. One of the main aspects she focused on was how the architectural design of the city directed key aspects of the people living there. She describes some techniques the ancient cites used to limit both the visual as well as physical contact shared by its residents, typically trying to separate the men from the women. She talks about several ways this is accomplished including bent and crooked entryways, regulated placements of windows and misalignment of street-bordering buildings. In one excerpt, the typical layout of an upper-class Egyptian house in the nineteenth century is described: “As one enters the house there is a passage, which bends sharply after the first yard or two, and bars any view into the interior from the open door. At the end of this passage we emerge into an open court…Here is no sign of life; the doors are jealously closed, the windows shrouded.” (Lughod 177) Abu-Lughod argues that by limiting the visual contact between residents, you begin to dissolve physical contact as well. Abu-Lughod states that this separation and segregation is unhealthy for a city to function properly, and without interactions on a daily basis, a city will fall. In particular, Abu-Lughod talks about the responsibilities that neighborhoods share, due to the physical structure which can influence the activities that occur there. She states, “Architectural design can make evident by the physical layout that an area is the shared extension of the private realms of a group of individuals. For one group to be able to set the norms of behavior and the nature of activity possible within a particular space, it is necessary that it have clear, unquestionable control over what can occur there.” (Lughod 179) So does this urban neighborhood succeed in encouraging interactions between its residents? By looking at some of the principals Abu-Lughod brings up, you can see similarities and differences of current urban neighborhood design, compared to the design of the Islamic cities of the past. Housing structures are assembled in very close proximity to each other, often resulting in personal interactions while doing tasks such as getting the paper, retrieving mail, walking in your yard, or going to your garage. Windows are used at ground level on almost every house, therefore not privatizing the view from the exterior of the structure to people passing by. Walking out of your house puts you in a direct line of sight to the unit across the street, or next door. The use of alleys promotes shared space among people and sidewalks encourage pedestrian use. There has to, however, be a certain degree of privacy to allow the residents to feel individualized. Privacy is required for people to feel comfortable, and the design of the neighborhood as well as the surrounding structures provide this much needed privacy. Like the Islamic cities, obstructing visual lines of contact is the main similarity shared with current and past neighborhood design. The use of shades, drapes, and other features help eliminate visual contact through windows. Because windows are so widely used in structural design, they offer plenty of silent contact if so desired. Almost every structure has a door or gate to signify privacy as well. Doors are meant to keep public and private space separate, and individuals could simply “hide” behind closed doors of their homes in complete isolation and seclusion. All of the physical aspects of this neighborhood seem to encourage or support interactions between people on a personal and non-personal basis, however, the line between public space and private space is maintained and made very clear to the inhabitants.
Jane Jacobs and her piece “The Uses of Sidewalks: Safety,” brings up a key term she calls the “Sidewalk Ballet.” In essence, this “ballet” occurs only when individuals, residing in close proximity of each other, take part in both primary and secondary interactions on a daily basis. People must be able to connect with others as they go about their lives, if the city has any intentions of flourishing. Jacobs describes three specific features that must be in place in order for this “ballet” to work correctly. In describing the city streets, “there must be a clear demarcation between what is public space and what is private space. Public and private spaces cannot ooze into each other as they do typically in suburban settings or in projects.” (Jacobs 116) Secondly, Jacobs’ claims that there must be eyes on the street at all times. She states that, “A well-used city street is apt to be a safe street.” (Jacobs 116) Finally, she strongly enforces the importance of sidewalks, and means for people to use them. This cross-city convergence of eyes on the street and purposeful interactions is to Jacobs’, “an intricate ballet in which the individual dancers and ensembles all have distinctive parts which miraculously reinforce each other and compose and orderly whole.” (Jacobs 117) The “whole,” of course, is referring to the fully functioning city, and the dancers are the cities’ residents. Jacobs claims that in order for the city to function, there must be a complex mixing of people at every stage of the city, right down to interactions on the street and in the neighborhoods. Additionally, Jacobs talks about the need for public spaces within the city, where interactions, either primary or secondary, can take place.
In the uptown neighborhood I observed, this is achieve by a number of different strategies. The “eyes on the street” theory is in full effect here, and is a vital component to this particular neighborhood. The sidewalks provide an instant place for interactions, as well as a place to direct an observer’s attention. Since there is a designated area for pedestrians to walk, you encourage others to notice and monitor the actions of those individuals on the sidewalks. In addition, with the integration of corner markets, delis, and gas stations within the radius of the neighborhoods, by doing this, Jacobs’ says it, “gives people – both residents and strangers – concrete reasons for using the sidewalks on which these enterprises face.” (Jacobs 117) These are places where strangers can go and feel just as welcome as someone who is a regular at the place everyday. People are supposed to be in these places, therefore not discouraging anybody from entering or conversing with the residents. Due to the high-density population of this type of area, public and alternative modes of transportation are a key feature. Public transportation such as busses, carpools and trains once again support Jacobs’ dance of interactions, while providing a much-needed function for so many individuals.
Moving outside of the hustling and bustling city limits, suburban neighborhoods also support major functions of the city, but the circumstances are much different. Twenty minutes west of the twin cities, I reside in a typical middle class suburban neighborhood, which seems far from the urban streets of downtown Minneapolis. Typical in the sense that my neighborhood is built and catered towards middle class, family-oriented individuals, who enjoy the low-dense structure of the suburbs. Scattered parks, integrated walking paths, and well-lit streets and houses provide a sense of unintentional security now matter what time of the day. Although a bit disconnected, I still feel strong ties to the big city knowing that a straight shot down the freeway will put me instantly in the city demographic. So how would Abu-Lughod, Jacobs, and Frank Lloyd Wright feel about the vitality of suburban neighborhoods to the functions of the major city?
In general, it seems that suburban neighborhoods, like the one I live in, project a sense of isolation from the major city. Of course, an increase in the physical distance from the city will automatically create this feeling, but even a mere 15 miles from the heart of downtown Minneapolis there is a certain feeling of disconnect. When you break down the physical structure of suburban neighborhoods, you see how they differ from an urban neighborhood and the different feelings they create. The single family houses that dot the winding, paved streets of my neighborhood are moderate in size, but offer little physical differentiations between them. Personalization of ones property includes the home as well as the yard and other land allotted to them surrounding the house. Property lines are again somewhat vague, with freshly cut grass lawns flowing from house to house as the general marker. Other barriers include fences, ponds, tree lines, or rocks, often well placed and purposeful. Housing are in plain view of each other, and sight lines are direct and open. Sidewalks are present but not extensive throughout the entire subdivision. Streets are well-lit and clean, crime and fear of the unknown is minimal, and there are people of all backgrounds intermingled within this community. All of these features would seem to indicate a vast network of personal connections between people on a daily basis. However, as far as I have observed this is not the case? Due to the absence of businesses, public parks, and stores, suburban neighborhood residents find very few reasons to encounter and interact with the people living in close proximity to them. A person’s time is spent within the private confines of their home, usually with only the presence of family around. Interactions usually come in the form of a casual wave while driving past one another on your way to run errands, small talk while getting the newspaper, or unnoticed glances from behind closed window shades. With so much space being private, an individual who does not reside in the specific neighborhood would feel out of place, and unwelcome if they were passing through. There are of course no signs or indications that this person is unwelcome, yet the structural design itself speaks volumes. The majority of intrapersonal contact is planned, with specific dates, times, and purposes, and with only specific individuals. Additionally, close relationships, even with direct neighbors are sparse, and are often impersonal and forced. You would be hard pressed to know even the names of those just a few footsteps away. With the divides of private space that encompass the majority of interactions, minimal physical contact, and overwhelming obscurity, suburban neighborhoods demonstrate very little support of this “sidewalk ballet,” as a function of a city.
Frank Lloyd Wright, however, would find that a suburban neighborhood like mine, shares some qualities of his major idea of a “broadacre city.” Wright describes this city where “Every citizen of the United States would be given a minimum of one acre of land per person, with the family homestead being the basis of civilization, and with government reduced to nothing more than a county architect who would be in charge of directing land allotments and the construction of basic community facilities.” (Wright 325) Wright focuses on personal space and technology as the basis of his radical idea. He said that every family should receive a minimum of 1 acre of land, with more going to bigger families. This would provide families vast amounts of personal space in which to reside. Wright also emphasizes, “All building is subject to his sense of the whole as organic architecture. Here architecture is landscape and landscape takes on the character of architecture by way of the simple process of cultivation.” (Wright 327) This aspect seems to have striking similarities to suburban neighborhoods. Houses are spread out, although not by acres in most cases, giving families ample space to remain private. The sense of personal ownership is seen through items such as the house, cars, and land. Landscaping is also very common in suburban design, which relates to the organic component of Wright’s ideology. He also focuses on technology especially through telecommunications and personal transportation. To have suburbanites “connect” to the city, there must be a way to transport them there, and the use of personal cars, or public transit is the common way of achieving that. Every household owns at least one car, allowing for transportation on a daily basis. Highways and freeways are used to connect the suburbs to the city, providing a transit way for people to travel in both directions. This is directly from the ideas of Frank Lloyd Wright, “Every Broadacre citizen has his own car. Multiple-lane highways make travel safe and enjoyable.” (Wright 329)
For the first time in my life, I found myself a resident of a gated retirement community for a weekend. I stayed with my girlfriend and her parents in Ft. Myers, Florida over spring break and was able to observe the day-to-day actions of the permanent residents of the community. A “neighborhood” such as this provided some very interesting observations.
The demographic of people that live in this community is highly selective and specific. The property is built around a golf course, and draws a very segregated population. Retired, wealthy, white couples were the norm, with maybe one or two scattered minorities throughout the community. This could be the result of these individuals feeling more connected to this setting due to their financial situations, or simply because they enjoy this lifestyle. The housing structures consist of patches of buildings dispersed over the property. Condominiums, apartments, townhouses and freestanding houses line each hole on the golf course, as well as the roads that cut through the community. Swimming pools, tennis courts, open picnic areas, man-made ponds and walking paths fill up the rest of the communal space. The “utopian” feeling I got from the moment I passed through the gates, was something very strange to me. I found myself feeling at times, very isolated from the city beyond the gates, yet I didn’t feel imprisoned by the steel bars and rental security guards. The outside world was accessible through devices like the computer and television, but once inside, you gain a sense that you are out of place if only for sporadic moments throughout the day. However, permanent residents seem to enjoy this feeling, and prefer it.
On any sunny 85-degree Floridian day, the roads and sidewalks will be bustling with activity. Consistent streams of (very slowly driven) cars flowing in and out of the community follow the road to and from their houses. The sidewalks are filled with daily walkers, impromptu chatters, and lost elderly people looking for home. Most of them are carrying golf clubs, tennis racquets, swim towels or the hands of their partners. Everywhere you look there are interactions taking place, and they all seem to be done with smiles. People make efforts to interact with each other many times a day, yet no outside businesses are present, and public and private space are still very much divided. Perhaps an explanation of these interactions is attributed to the demeanor of the individuals who reside here, but the strict isolation from the rest of the city, keeps these communities flourishing with activity.
It is very clear that proximity, and architectural design of neighborhoods can drastically affect the look, feel, and function of these places. Interactions are vital to a city’s success, and neighborhoods are an extremely important place where these need to take place. Janet Abu-Lughod would claim that non-limiting structural features need to be in place throughout a neighborhood, to help promote and encourage visual and physical contact between residents. Segregation by separation is something that Abu-Lughod would find extremely detrimental to a city, and neighborhoods would be included. Jane Jacobs focuses on maintaining constant flow and energy within a neighborhood or city. By giving people reasons to use the streets and sidewalks, you create a safer, happier, and more alive city, with greater efficiency. She states that by integrating public and private space within specific boundaries, you can create a synchronized and flowing “ballet” of activity, which improves the city. In contrast, Frank Lloyd Wright would be a big proponent of the suburban style lifestyle, which focuses on personal space, organic architecture, and the use of personal or public transportation. His ideas for a “broadacre city” seem to show major correlation with the modern suburban neighborhoods. I believe that both Jacobs and Abu-Lughod would put a greater emphasis on maintaining and expanding the urban style neighborhoods over the suburban or gated communities, while Wright would continue to expand the suburban design, and encourage rural growth. Both Jacobs and Lughod would argue that the spontaneous interactions, created by the close spatial proximity of these neighborhoods, as well as the open spaces and inviting demeanor, have a much more positive impact on the function of the modern city than do suburban communities.

Works Cited

Abu-Lughod, Janet. “The Islamic City: Historic Myths, Islamic Essence, and Contemporary Relevance.” The City Reader. New York: Routledge Publishing, 2003

Jacobs, Jane. “The Uses of Sidewalks: Safety.” The City Reader. New York: Routledge Publishing, 2003

Wright, Frank Lloyd. “Broadacre City: A New Community Plan.” The City Reader. New York: Routledge Publishing, 2003

A Classic NIMBY Case

It happens more often than you would think. Homeless shelters, and other building uses providing valuable social services to the urban poor, are proposed by well-meaning citizens who see the need for them. They work hard to get everything in order, obtain the appropriate permits, and jump through the necessary hoops. However, before long, they run into problems, many of which are associated with the NIMBY (i.e., not in my backyard) phenomenon. In 2000, Mary Gallini and Ann Sandell were two of these well-meaning citizens. They came up with a proposal that would turn the Love Power Church/ Children’s Gospel Mission into a homeless shelter. Over the next two years, they, and others, fought valiantly to create this viable option for working, sober homeless males living in the area. However, they would never see the fruition of their efforts. Issues with zoning officials, opposition from area businesses, and community fallout (i.e., all typical NIMBY responses) would culminate in an unhappy ending (Demko 2000). In this paper, the issues that people on both sides of the issue were concerned with are discussed. Additionally, these issues are analyzed in relation to the theoretical reasons behind reactions to homeless shelters, the existing literature on NIMBYism, and the role of social service organizations in urban areas. Finally, possible answers to some of these issues are explored and critically analyzed. All of this leads to an understanding that awareness about who homeless people are, the shelters they go to for support, and the services those shelters provide is essential to finding a solution to NIMBY responses.
From Mission to Mayhem
In the winter in 2000, the Love Power Church in the West Bank area of Minneapolis which shares its space with the Children’s Gospel Mission began working with St. Stephen’s Shelter, a provider of homeless services in south Minneapolis, to make their dream of opening a homeless shelter in the church building become a reality. Ann Sandell, the church’s pastor, and Mary Gallini, the day shelter coordinator at St. Stephen’s lead the crusade. They proposed a shelter program that would require residents (e.g., sober, working adult males) to sign-up for a minimum of a 30-day stay, for a fee of twenty dollars a week. Additionally, they would have to save forty percent of their income to put toward permanent housing, as well as attend class sessions that focus on life skills (e.g., nutrition and finance). In return, the shelter would provide them with a mat to sleep on and a hot meal every evening (Demko 2000).
Together, Sandell, Gallini, and others worked to pull together almost $200,000 in funding from different sources to operate the shelter during the first year. They also spent a lot of time in meetings and by the end of the summer, had the endorsement of both the West Side Citizens’ Coalition and the Cedar Riverside Business Association. However, in October of 2000, they hit a major stumbling block. Dan Dacquisito, a zoning administer in Minneapolis, declared that the proposed use of the building should be categorized as “supportive housing” instead of a homeless shelter, which would only be allowed in residential areas. The Love Power Church is located in a commercial district. This immediately garnered a response from the homeless advocacy community, who passionately disagreed with Dacquisito’s interpretation of the definition. Although the definition of supportive housing that stipulates it as a “facility that provides housing for 24 hours per day” did not apply to the proposed space (it would only be open 14 hours), Dacquisito claimed that because it would work with a fixed group of men and offered program services it fit the definition (Demko 2000).
Gallini, with the help of an attorney, appealed Dacquisito’s decision to the Board of Adjustment for the city of Minneapolis and unexpectedly, won. She defended their proposed use of the building as being an overnight shelter, with the additional services offered as accessory. However, the battle continued. Dacquisito then appealed the Board of Adjustment’s decision, but in February of 2001 lost that battle as the city board overwhelmingly (12:1) voted in favor of Gallini. And yet, the battle was still not over.
In August of 2001, five business owners and two residents of the West Bank area brought forward a lawsuit to prohibit the opening of the shelter, which was scheduled to open that fall. Their lawsuit claimed that Gallini and others misrepresented information about how the shelter would be run in community meetings in order to put residents’ minds at ease. However, they too, lost their battle. Judge John McShane declared that their problem was really with the project itself and they were just using the lawsuit as a desperate measure (Demko 2002). And this, unexpectedly, is where the story ends. No one was able to defeat the proposed shelter by legal terms. However, in the fall of 2002, the shelter did not open. In fact, the whole project has since been dropped. No more law suits, no more meetings, but also, no homeless shelter. So what happened? What went wrong? This is where the true story begins.
A Closer Look
The part of this case that was not widely covered in the popular press and cannot be deduced from simply reading the legal proceedings is what exactly was going on back in the community, while all the logistics of zoning were being worked out in court. There is no way to know what exactly the reason was that eventually the Love Power Church decided to terminate their efforts to turn the building into a shelter. However, an in depth interview with Mary Gallini helps to sort through some of these details.
First of all, there were the countless community meetings. Gallini states that at these meetings she and others did the best they could to put the minds of residents at ease through tactics such as public education. However, she claims that opponents to the proposed use were not as diplomatic in their efforts to gain support in their opposition. For example, they would invite neighborhood Somali residents to their meetings, but not provide translators to help ask and answer questions for them. For those who could not understand English, all they would be able to take away from the meeting was the general concern that was being expressed. On the other hand, Gallini and other supporters of the project would hold similar meetings, but with translators. However, these contradictory methods did not help in efforts to appease concerns.
Then, there was the zoning issue, which was speculated by Gallini to have been brought up by the city council representative at the time, Joan Campbell. However, in a 2001 City Pages article, Campell claimed “I had looked at the zoning code myself and said ‘hey, that is supportive housing, that doesn’t belong here,’ but I had never talked to [Daquisto]” (Demko 2001). No matter what the case, ultimately, the extra time spent dealing with legal proceedings gave the opposition group time to create videos, posters, and flyers to facilitate community upheaval towards the project, claims Gallini. At the first Board of Adjustment meeting, board member Gary Schiff expressed his own disappointment at the way the zoning laws were used to hold up the project: “We’ve come out of a history where zoning was used as a tool to keep the poor away from the rich. I feel for a society where talking is considered as service. In the last four years I have been supportive of the zoning staff. I am downright ashamed today.” (Brunswick 2000).
Finally, Gallini suggested, the members of the church, who were on average over 60 years old, were worn down by all the legal proceedings and could not see an end in sight. Even after the neighbors lost their lawsuit, their lawyer, Gary Wood, indicated that his clients would request an amendment of the decision from the judge, and if that did not work may decide to appeal yet again (Demko 2002). Gallini speculated that bribery or scare tactics may have been used to convince the church to drop the project. For example, one business owner, in particular was interested in the property for his own development, but Gallini knew little about the conversations he had with the church.
In a letter to the editor, as a response to a City Pages article in 2001 about this case, a resident of the community gave their point of view on the situation. He first stated that it was the misrepresentation of the shelter that was the biggest issue for area businesses. He claimed that Gallini originally had promoted the shelter as part of a “Higher Expectation” program where the men would be selected based on criteria, but when she rewrote the proposal, Gallini described the project as an extension of the shelter at St. Stephens where residents would be chosen by lottery. This resident claimed that this was a cause of concern, because the chronically homeless have historically struggled with crack cocaine and alcohol. Bringing them into the community would threaten the pedestrian-friendly environment of the area. Furthermore, with multiple bars in the area, it would not help the men themselves to move past their addictions (Prozinski 2001). However, Gallini claims that these men would not be “coming into the community,” but were in fact, already a part of it. Many of the men who would have been candidates for the beds were already living on the streets in the area. Secondly, concerns about homeless men crowding around for a chance at the lottery were unwarranted, as intake would have been conducted offsite. Ironically, the letter writer’s concerns that the shelter would not be as organized and programmed as originally planned, gave the lawsuit he was defending less clout, because such a shelter would definitely not fall under the “supportive housing” category. Ultimately, this resident claimed that the problem was with the zoning code itself:
“Currently, all overnight shelters must be accessory to a religious place of assembly. This is a ridiculous stipulation that creates conflict in locating new shelters. Churches are in neighborhoods and neighborhoods resist shelters. Let a homeless shelter operate in a non-residential area with low pedestrian traffic and with access to mass transportation (Prozinski 2001).”
This last statement is very telling, indicating, at least for this man, that the reasons for not supporting the shelter are ultimately to keep such programs “out of his backyard.”
Why NIMBY Responses Present Themselves
NIMBY responses present themselves for various different reasons and in various different ways. Experts Mike Davis and Sharon Zukin have similar, yet distinct viewpoints on how and why upper and middle class citizens tend to want to spatially separate themselves from their fellow citizens who are of the lower-class. In his analysis of Los Angeles, Davis points to the middle class’s “demand for increased spatial and social insulation (Davis 1996: 204)” as one tactic used to separate the upper and middle class from the lower class and homeless. He point to Los Angeles as an extreme example of this trend in the United States, where people live in “fortress cities brutally divided between ‘fortified cells’ of affluent society and ‘places of terror’ where police battle the criminalized poor (Davis 1996: 203).” In his letter to the editor, the suggestion that the resident of the Cedar Riverside neighborhood proposed as to where homeless shelters should go is a perfect example of these ideals. He suggested that homeless shelters should not be located in residential neighborhoods, but instead in an area where interactions with those from the middle and upper class would be minimized. He is more or less indicating that he himself would rather be part of a “fortified cell of affluent society,” while homeless people should be part of the “places of terror.”
Zukin has a similar theory. She claims that by focusing primarily on a singular vision of what a community or city should be, residents create a “visually seductive, privatized public culture (Zukin 1996: 138).” It is possible, that the attempted spatial exclusion of the proposed homeless shelter was an effort on the part of the area residents and business owners to create such a culture. This idea is strongly supported by the fact that the homeless people the shelter was to serve were already living in the area. They simply were not visually or spatially represented, and it was the objective of opponents to the shelter to keep it that way. Zukin may say that the building itself was part of a “symbolic language of exclusion and entitlement (Zukin 1996: 138).” In other words, whoever occupied the building would be included as part of the community and entitled to be there, and opponents of the shelter did not want this to be homeless people.
The NIMBY Phenomenon
The NIMBY phenomenon began to emerge in the early 1980s. Typically, residents and whole communities garner NIMBY reactions to proposed land uses that are unwanted. Sometimes these land uses are ones that may have a negative impact on health (e.g., waste or industrial facilities). However, many times, they are buildings that provide social services to marginalized sectors of the population, as was the case with the proposed homeless shelter discussed above. Although, it can seem like a simple concept on the surface, NIMBY responses are often triggered by a number of different influences and concerns (Schively 2007).
NIMBY responses have been characterized in a number of different ways. Some see the responses as being motivated solely by self-interest, self-promotion, or self protection (Schively 2007). The business owner who already owned several businesses in the area and wanted to buy the Love Power Church property, and therefore was a big opponent to the proposed homeless shelter is a classic example of this. Additionally, Mary Gallini indicated that there were others who were concerned about property values.
On the other hand, some see NIMBY responses as a fundamental right of a democratic society. This view indicates that there is much value for “grassroots’ opposition”, as it may promote better decisions in the siting process. Often times these positive reflections on NIMBY responses are associated more with the land uses that affect public health and the environment than those that provide social services. However, the business owner who wrote the letter to the editor would argue that the opponents to the shelter were exercising their basic right, as he remarked “the citizens of Minneapolis have a right to equal and equitable enforcement of law (Prozinski 2001).” However, this is a weak argument because not everybody in the neighborhood has access to the resources needed to fight for their rights. Case and point, the Love Power Church did have the finances and support they needed to fight for their right to put a homeless shelter in their building.
Some would argue that neither of these descriptions accurately reflects NIMBY responses. Rather, they would argue, more or less, that the NIMBY phenomenon is actually a result of misconceptions and stigmatization. In her book, Homelessness, AIDS, and Stigmatization, Lois Takahashi indicates that “differences of socially disqualifying attributes are signs that there are significant discrepancies between society’s ideal and homeless persons…and that these discrepancies constitute extremely negative qualities in persons who are homeless…,” ultimately leaving them with a stigmatization they cannot overcome on their own (Takahashi 1998). To apply this idea to the above situation: the homeless men who are living in the West Bank area may have been labeled (at least in the minds of some) as “synonymous with laziness, substance abuse, mental disability, uncleanliness, and even perversion.” All of these characteristics are ultimately associated with a lack of productivity, which is in direct opposition to “economic production, technological advancement, and land development,” the very foundation of a capitalist society (Takahashi and Dear 1997). Therefore, the reaction of the community is one that is concerned with the idea of a group of people coming into the area that would counter their productivity.
This interpretation of NIMBYism in the Love Power case is further supported by the comments of Elizabeth Kuoppale, the local policy director at the Coalition for Homelessness of Minnesota, would agree. In a telephone interview she indicated her belief in the overall goodness of most people, even those who have such blatant NIMBY responses to homeless shelters, and that “they would want to help if they understood.” In her experience she has seen many people who are concerned that homeless people are plagued with mental illnesses and they are “uncontrollable and unpredictable” and that, if allowed to live in the same community as themselves and their families, their safety would be jeopardized. However, both Kuoppale and Gallini indicated that, often the homeless people they work with are some of the kindest people they know and that the people who work in the shelters (e.g., volunteers) do not share these concerns. Kuappale told a story of one man, who visits local schools and organizations with her to promote awareness. When asked by a child what the one thing he thought that homeless people needed more than anything else, he answered “hope.” Kuappale reiterated that many homeless people find hope hard to find in a society that is so quick to make assumptions about who they are.
How Could Things Be Different
The questions remains: What would have needed to change in order for the homeless shelter proposal to have been a success? First, one must answer the question of whether or not it was a good idea to put it there in the first place. While there were some moderately valid reasons to halt the continuation of this project (e.g., the proximity to local bars, questionable zoning appeals), the viewpoint from here on out is that the shelter had every legal right to be located in the Love Power Church building. It would provide 25 extra beds for the homeless of Minneapolis and a stable program to help them move toward independence in permanent housing and would have been a valuable addition to the city. So what needs to change? Several theorists and researchers have studied possible solutions and tactics that social service organizations may consider using to more affectively implement homeless shelters into communities.
In her research analysis, Carrisa Shively identified four general approaches for responding to NIMBY concerns. The first, compensation (i.e., monetary and other indirect types of compensation to counterbalance potential losses) is sometimes successful, but often ethically questionable and therefore, would probably not have been an option for Mary Gallini and Ann Sandell. It appears the second approach, communicating the impacts (e.g., through public education and structuring technical information in a simpler language) was used by Gallini and Sandell, but not effectively enough. The third, empowering affected parties (e.g., through giving residents positions of influence in the decision-making processes) was complicated in this situation, as it appears resistance to the project was high and any leeway given would be used to relocate the shelter or terminate the proposal all together. The fourth, consensus-building, similar to communicating the impacts, was attempted, but due to the conflicts with area businesses was ultimately, not possible (Schively 2007).
In 2000, David Cress and David Snow identified several factors that are generally important to the successful action of social movement organizations that provide relief services (e.g., St. Stephen’s Shelter). However, they claim that different situations call for different factors to be present, making finding solutions more complicated than some theorists make it out to be. In a situation where the city, as a whole, is responsive to and supportive of social change (which Cress and Snow deem Minneapolis), having allies in the city and affective framing of the situation are necessary. In the case of the Love Power Church, Mary Gallini, Ann Sandell, and other supporters did all they could to frame the proposed shelter as the answer to a problem in the community and the city as a whole (e.g., diagnostic framing) and to present specific ways in which the shelter would achieve its goals and objectives (e.g., prognostic framing) (Cress and Snow 2000). However, notably, this project did not have the support of the city council member in the area, Joan Campbell (who, notably, did not get reelected and is now serving as secretary for the Minnesota Ballpark Association) or any other prominent city leaders. If they had, this project may have seen different results.
In general, more awareness and understanding about the homeless and homeless shelters may have been helpful. Unfortunately, the best opportunity for this could have come after the homeless shelter was open. For example, since the facility is in an area surrounded by restaurants, workers at the restaurants could have come into the shelter and brought food to serve the evening meals. Not only would it be a great help (and probably a big treat!) to the residents staying in the shelter, it also would have been an excellent way for those who work at the restaurants to overcome the stigmatization they have with the residents. Through conversation and interactions, the workers could see in the residents, what Mary Gallini, Elizabeth Kuoppale, and numerous others see everyday: kind people who are simply trying to make a better life for themselves. Even better, these same workers could volunteer their time to train residents in food service skills to increase their opportunity for better jobs. However, none of this can happen until someone takes the first step.
Closing Thoughts
In the winter of 2000, a project proposal was brought forth in Minneapolis that would result in one of the most obvious cases of NIMBYism the city had ever seen. Ultimately, the fears, concerns, assumptions, and misconceptions that resulted in a stigmatization of homeless people, would win out over the efforts of Ann Sandell, Mary Gallini, and others to bring a homeless shelter into the community. Different tactics were used on both sides of the issue. Those who were opposed to the shelter used zoning laws, community upheaval, and other fear tactics to scare off project backers. Similarly, supporters of the project used their own legal rights, meetings to educate and relieve concerns, and other framing techniques to garner support for the project. However, without the support of the community, the project leaders did not have enough sustenance to overcome the powerful force of stigmatization that is expressed through NIMBY responses. However, there is still hope for future homeless shelters in Minneapolis. In the end, the city did stand by the proposed shelter in the face of questionable zoning rulings, indicating that support for these projects is out there. As board member David Fields stated at the first Board of Adjustment meeting, “We’ve gone far beyond the time when everyone can say ‘Yes, we know homelessness is out there, but not in our neighborhood’” (Brunswick 2000). Homelessness is already a part of many Minneapolis neighborhoods; however the stigmatization that goes with it does not have to be. In the future, awareness will be essential to overcoming stigma, and will be needed for initiatives with objectives of “housing for all” to move forward.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Brunswick, Mark. “Citizen Board OKs Plan for Seven Corners Shelter; Supporters Say it Might be Running as Soon as January.” Star Tribune, 14 December 2000, sec. B.

Cress, David and Snow, David. “The Outcomes of Homeless Mobilization: The Influence of Organization, Disruption, Political Mediation, and Framing,” American Journal of Sociology, 105, no. 4 (2000):1063-1104.

Davis, Mike. “Fortress L.A.” In City Reader, edited by Richard T. LeGates and Frederic Stout, 201-206. London, Routeledge, 1996.

Demko, Paul. “Zoned Out: Minneapolis Bureaucrats Put the Kibosh on a West Bank Homeless Shelter,” City Pages, 8 November 2000. Retrieved March 30, 2007 from http://www.citypages.com

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Prozinski, Dan. “Letters to the Editor: Tainted Love,” City Pages, Retrieved April 13, 2007 from http://www.citypages.com

Schively, Carissa. “Understanding the NIMBY and LULU Phenomena: Reassessing Our Knowledge Base and Informing Future Research,” Journal of Planning Literature, 21, no.3 (2007): 255-266

Takahashi, Lois. Homelessness, Aids, and Stigmatization: The NIMBY Syndrome in the United States at the End of the Twentieth Century. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998)

Takahashi, Lois and Dear, Michael. “The Changing Dynamics of Community Opposition to Human Service Facilities.” Journal of the American Planning Association 63, no. 1 (1997): 79-94.

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