When my wife and I built our home in a poor, predominantly Black neighborhood 10 years ago, I didn't know what gentrification was. Intellectual curiosity and the nerdiest interest in neighborhood building took me on a deep self-educating tour about the topic.
Gentrification as a word was first coined in the 1960s by a London city planner named Ruth Glass. She used it to describe the displacement of the poor in parts of town by the upper class. Not every part of gentrification is bad; in fact, the first two stages are good. The third is debatable, and the fourth destroys it for everyone.
In Stage One, young, poor, relatively ambitious types of different races and economic backgrounds migrate to impoverished parts of town to take advantage of bargain prices and are unbothered by the poor quality of spaces for rent. They view the squeaks and imperfections as charming.
With their influx of imagination and since they have no kids and lots of big ideas still unjaded by life, they do cool stuff that costs no money: public art, yard gardens, do-it-yourself projects. They play music in public and cheerfully work in local restaurants, since good service is rewarded by way of tipping.
Behind them in the second phase comes the typically LGBT community. They are unafraid of seemingly dangerous parts of town because they have been picked on since youth, so they have the thick skin needed to boldly walk in areas where the more affluent wouldn't dare.
Think what you will about the LGBT community, but no group of people bring more value to a neighborhood than they do. Champagne tastes and beer budgets can make something a squatter called home for years into the most glamorous space you've ever entered. Usually right alongside them are the DINKs (Duel Income No Kids; this was my wife and me 10 years ago). A desire for walkability, diversity and affordability attracts this group, and home values begin to rise.
In the third stage, the more affluent begin to buy. Property taxes rise with home values, making it less affordable for the poor. The rise also gives opportunity for long-time legacy neighbors to cash in and get out. This could be called displacement, but it's voluntary.
Property taxes are low in Arkansas, so this isn't as damaging as in other states. We freeze property taxes at age 65, so older residents wouldn't be negatively impacted.
In the fourth stage, demographics of population density and incomes become so attractive that commercially owned chain restaurants and coffee shops invest and push out the fun, quirky, locally owned coffee shops and restaurants.
Celebrity types think it's cool to own a home in these neighborhoods, so they buy a couple next to each other, knock them down, and build one mansion they stay in for a week out of the year. The working-class restaurant servers and musicians can no longer afford the increase in rents. In Arkansas we've mostly seen this in Pulaski Heights in Little Rock and downtown Bentonville.
Soon after building our home here, whispers of gentrification began. In 10 years we have built 70-plus dwellings and commercial spaces downtown, all on vacant lots with the exception of one. It was a structure that had been abandoned for years, so we replaced it with a single-family home and added an accessory structure in the back that could be rented out affordably.
Every economic demographic has been a part of this revitalization: eight 400-square-foot houses for a nonprofit that rents to formerly unhomed people, two through a nonprofit providing incentives for qualifying lower-income buyers, a couple of 700-square-foot starter houses restricted to first-time home buyers, dozens of middle-income homes that house different racial and age demographics. And even one larger, more affluent house in which we built an affordable apartment above the garage that the owners rent to college students or recent grads.
The real gentrification and displacement of the poor in Little Rock has been happening for 70 years, but it's not been at the hand of infill development. Red lining, white flight, urban sprawl and bad city government policy destroyed the market for downtown neighborhoods, and despite seeing little pockets of success, there are more demo permits pulled and houses left abandoned than new houses being built or older ones rehabbed. Little Rock neighborhoods, despite small successes, are still dying.
The greenest home you can build is the one already built, but currently you can pull a demo permit for zero dollars. Many homes each year that are still in legal possession of legacy owners are torn down at the hands of the city.
The most harmful policy is not unique to Little Rock. It's happening all across the country: building code. Struggling neighborhoods are held to the same standard of code as thriving cities like Austin and Nashville. With no attainable financing to meet these standards, houses are left to fall apart in a demolition by neglect.
James Baldwin said it best: "Anyone who has ever struggled with poverty knows how extremely expensive it is to be poor."
But cities have the right to push back on building code. Law allows municipalities to adopt and enforce code at their discretion. Planning departments can choose to replace missing steps in the ladder for struggling neighborhoods, giving them time and opportunity to slowly meet the standards of code.
Little Rock is a diamond in the rough in many ways; downtown neighborhoods are preferable for developers and cities because of their grid patterns that make maintaining infrastructure easier. Little Rock's access to water will, in the coming decades, make us a refuge for mass migration. If we are going to avoid the ill effects of gentrification, policy will have to change now in order avoid the displacement of the poor.
"Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity. It is an act of justice. It is the protection of a fundamental human right, the right to dignity and a decent life." -- Nelson Mandela
Mike Orndorff is a residential and commercial developer in downtown Little Rock.