Gentrification and Social Justice

I live in a quaint (realtor code for "small"...also synonymous with "cute" and "charming") two-bedroom house in Central Austin. It's a quiet neighborhood with old, modest homes built in the 40's and 50's. Despite the humble homes, it is a relatively expensive place to live, with property values rising fast. My immediate neighbors include a divorced musician, a documentary filmmaker in his late 60's, a middle-aged couple that works on special effects for Quentin Tarantino films, a pair of female graduate students...and a dude who works as an engineer for Dell. I, of course, work in Christian ministry. In that sense, it's a fairly diverse neighborhood and if you were to ask any of us, "How do you feel about living in Central Austin?", we'd all say that we wouldn't want to live anywhere else in town. The neighbors all proudly describe it as a place for the free-thinker, the iconoclast (except for the Dell guy and me, the Christian guy). The prevailing thought in Central Austin, where snobbery of this sort is not only accepted, but applauded with every "Keep Austin Weird" sign, says that this is the edgy, hip, cool part of town. Truth? Other parts of Austin are much "cooler". But I'm never one to turn from a sentiment that paints me as "cool" (even if untrue), so I bought fully into how great this area is, in large part because of its diversity.

Except...we're the only ethnic people in our neighborhood. Not that I have a problem with white people...in fact, I love white people. :) And the diversity that we celebrate? Well, it took some gentrification to get us all here. Some decades ago, this was a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood. Forced out of Central Austin due to rising property values and higher taxes, most moved back to Latino East Austin. The pattern repeats itself, according to USA Today, in those same neighborhoods today:

In the predominantly Latino working class barrio of East Austin, the new Pedernales Lofts condominiums have raised adjacent land values more than 50% since 2003. Last fall, someone hung signs from power lines outside the lofts saying, "Stop gentrifying the East Side" and "Will U give jobs to longtime residents of this neighborhood?"

There are positives that come with a gentrified neighborhood. Safer streets, better schools and services, Starbuck's. Also to be fair, gentrification remains an issue not easily nor quickly resolved. It is a major challenge to urban development all across the country. But after a summer in San Francisco (where the problem is even worse), engaging in some social justice initiatives...well, I came back burdened and looking for opportunities to serve the community more deeply (you can read more about our SF exploits here).

It didn't take me long to see that those types of opportunities are severely limited in my area (was hoping for more, since we are near the heart of the city). Lack of ethnic diversity, as well as economic diversity. While initially disappointed, I now see that opportunities exist in other parts of town and am still eager to serve. I still like where I live.

Something else that I realized while talking to one of my neighbors (the filmmaker, who has been estranged from his adult children for decades)...serving the physically and economically poor is a key component of social justice, but poverty exists on deeper levels, as well. True social justice (the type that Jesus perscribed, at least) calls for the feeding of the hungry, the caring of the orphans and widows, the clothing of the naked...but also for the healing of the broken-hearted and the setting free of the captive.

Poverty of spirit exists apart from money or food or shelter. It exists in broken family relationships, in eating disorders, in pornography addictions, in workaholism, in narcissim and self-centeredness. When Jesus said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," did He not mean that there are none in heaven who were not also once poor in spirit? We see how needy we are without Him and it drives us towards gratitude, as well as compassion. Not a compassion born out of simply having more or being more fortunate, but one born of also knowing what it means to be poor and needy. If we are to truly follow the lead of our Savior, we must see poverty in all of its forms and our task must encompass all that Jesus, Himself, set out to do in order to address them.