The Chavis Carousel is the centerpiece of the 37-acre park in the Raleigh, North Carolina neighborhood, Chavis. When the park opened in 1938, it was the only African American park in the Southeast United States. Because of this, it was visited by many African Americans throughout North Carolina as well as other states. Following the end of segregation the park and surrounding neighborhoods began to decline under various influences. The City pledged re-investment in the park ten years ago and is just now beginning to fulfill that promise.
What does it mean when community members state: "We can't afford to be their neighbors." "It's just what happens; neighborhoods change." "It's a natural process, like a hurricane." It's what capitalism does." "You have pride in your home, and then you don't."
These voices were part of Sarita Daftary - Steel's webinar, "Capturing Narratives of Displacement, Divestment, and Dehumanization," a title that reflects the themes that emerged in her East New York Oral History Project. The project captures the personal experiences of people who lived in East New York from 1960 - 1970 when East New York neighborhoods experienced rapid white flight due mainly to long-standing racial inequities and policies that ultimately devalued the area, resulting in the loss of community.
After watching the webinar, I was motivated to assess how the themes of displacement, divestment, and dehumanization, a pattern repeated across neighborhoods throughout the United States, were playing out in the city where I live, Raleigh, NC.
I started my research with the book Culture Town, Life in Raleigh's African American Communities. Published in 1993, the book captures historically African American neighborhoods' character through oral histories, photography, and architectural plans. It intended to draw attention to these communities to help preserve their character as reflected in their buildings, homes, streets, and the relationships among residents established over generations. The eight neighborhoods were: Method, Oberlin, Nazareth, Fourth Ward, College Park, Idlewild, Smoky Hollow, and East Raleigh - Chavis & South Park. From among the 56 oral histories, a picture emerges of pride in homeownership that contributed to the communities' stability and character over decades.
*click on images to see full descriptions
Factors that account for creating many segregated African American neighborhoods in the United States do not appear to have been the main formative factors among these eight communities. Instead, a unique combination of time and place, Freedmen's ability to purchase land, desire for homeownership, lack of opposition by whites, and the economic benefits from the presence of two Historically Black Colleges on the borders of South Park: Shaw University and St. Augustine's College were the major influences.[1] The irony is that the institutional forces that did not affect these communities' establishment a century ago now threaten these communities' very nature. Since this book's publication, zoning laws, business regulations, and community overlay districts[2] have been implemented. Intended to protect and enhance historic neighborhoods by increasing their value, these measures also limit affordable housing and decrease resistance to inflated offers.
My neighborhood borders the South Park historic African American community and provides a front-row view of its slow but steady change. In contrast with the trend toward devaluation in East New York during the '60s and 70's, reverse–inflated values affect South Park and other Raleigh urban neighborhoods. The New York Times documented this noticeable change a little over a year ago in an article "The Neighborhood Is Mostly Black, The Home Buyers Are Mostly White". The report detailed how nonwhite communities (citing South Park as an example) are changing as whites purchase homes in these neighborhoods, affecting the mortgage market, the architecture, and the land's value.
Inflated offers for these properties make it too hard to resist selling for some but are a barrier to those who traditionally could afford these homes. As Kia Baker, who grew up in southeast Raleigh and now serves as Executive Director for the community-based nonprofit, Southeast Raleigh Promise explains in the New York Times article, "That's what finally came to me — it's not just the fact that the neighborhoods look different, that people behave differently. Our black bodies literally have less economic value than the body of a white person. As soon as a white body moves into the same space that I occupied, all of a sudden this place is more valuable."
Some efforts to preserve the African American Legacy heritage of these communities are taking place. One can point to the overdue renovation of Chavis Park whose restoration, approved over ten years ago, is finally underway. A few builders are restoring and even moving homes rather than tearing them down and replacing them with modern units. Voters passed an $80 million-dollar bond for affordable housing in the 2020 November election. The city has developed a plan to guide future zoning and development and preserve the character of South Park. Community organizations such as the Southeast Raleigh Community Engagement Strategy Sessions (SERCESS) and the South Park-East Raleigh Neighborhood Association are also working with the city to counter gentrification and preserve their community. The decision to change the name of Daniels Middle School, originally named after a white supremacist, to Oberlin Middle School is a step forward in recognizing the long overdue contributions of the community’s Freedmen founders.
These are all positive developments, but they are not sufficient to counter the rapid extinguishment of the African American presence in South Park.
Courtney Napier, a community activist, and journalist explains her efforts to understand what is occurring in South Park and the potential for change by connecting with some of the long term homeowners.[3] Among the laments she heard was the increasing loss of the community's physical presence and the diminishing African American community's spirit. In a conversation with Courtney, Miss Lonnette Williams, a lifelong resident and the homeowner in South Park, expresses her regret this way: "Once I'm gone, it's over. My generation is the last link to the past, and some of my neighbors have died waiting to witness the restoration of Chavis Park and the Top Green Center. If we have nothing to leave to teach you our heritage, it'll be gone."
I spoke with Courtney recently about the factors accounting for the change in traditional African American neighborhoods. She describes a philosophical distinction between long term African American residents in South Park and like neighborhoods and newer residents regarding their approach to homeownership as a contributing factor to the neighborhood's changing character and citizenry. Recent arrivals mostly view their South Park home as a starter home in anticipation of stepping up to increasingly bigger investments over time. African American long term residents purchased their homes with the predominant attitude that their first home was also their "forever" home. The philosophical difference in homeownership can negatively impact the community's cohesion, investment, and character, as Courtney explains in the following clip from an interview we recorded on preserving Raleigh's African American neighborhoods.
Courtney Napier: This desire to return to these urban areas is that White folks have been affected tremendously by the recession that happened in 08, and so they couldn't afford the large houses in the Leesville area, for instance, or North Hills or other areas where you have these very large houses with these big neighborhoods and so a lot of folks like myself, which is why I ended up in Knightdale, we need to buy a property. We need to buy a home. It's a good investment. That's what you do as an adult. And this is our starter home. This is where we're going to begin to build our family and begin to build our wealth, begin to build our careers. And then once we're here for a little while, we'll sell it and get something that we really, really want. And so you have, and that's a newer philosophy on buying homes, buying multiple homes, I think. For the black community that live there, Miss Octavia said this to me, we were buying the home that we wanted to be in our family for generations. We are buying the family home. When we bought the house on Fisher Street or whatever that was going to be the family home and be there forever.
The forever home and the first home a black family can buy, especially in that day and age, was a forever home, because up until that point, they might have been renting, they might have been sharecropping in a situation where the home was not exactly theirs and so that was the aspiration to own. And that was it. And so when you have that philosophical divide of someone coming into your community that you deem as the only place you would ever want to live, and the folks across the street see it as a stepping stone to the place they really want to live. What happens is that mindset, which Reverend Gerald illuminates to me, he is invested in the West Charlotte community and has been for 15 plus years and has seen this himself, is that when you come in and you're in a place where, you don't want to be forever, that's about as much investment as you put into it, you know?
Q. How is this resolved?
Courtney Napier: I think stories have a big part to play. Part of what I hope to do is to help connect newcomers to the history of where they live. I mean, and it's not like I want to convince someone that they have to live where they live forever, but it's more convincing someone that where they live now is significant, if not to them, to someone, to Raleigh, and that there is so much that existed before you came. And hopefully there will be some - a lot that will exist after you leave. But there is something here besides just a diverse community with an affordable place for you to live, and nice schools close by, which is front and center on the minds of a lot of these families. It's like, are the schools good? Can we afford to live here comfortably? And is this a place where I'd be happy to raise my kids? Because it's not just a bunch of people that look and believe the same way I do. There is that desire to be in a diverse space. But living in a diverse space doesn't magically mean gaining a diversity of thought or experience or stories. You have to put that effort out.
What if anything can halt the loss of the African American character of South Park and other long-standing African American neighborhoods surrounding downtown Raleigh? I asked Courtney, “Will they be referenced as communities that ‘once were’?” Courtney's response acknowledges the likely inevitability of these communities’ loss of their African American character. In her opinion, preserving that character will require a change in the city’s approach to their affordable housing policies.
Courtney Napier: What would have to change is a broadening of the scope, or maybe I think more of a focus on the scope of affordable housing and the crisis that we're in. The last piece, not the last piece, but the piece before that that I wrote for Indy was about the cities', in my opinion, attempt to redefine what the affordable housing crisis is. And in my opinion, I feel like the redefinition is to attract middle-income families who have a kind of discretionary income to spend on restaurants and boutiques and to go see shows and that kind of thing. Those families can't afford to live in downtown Raleigh either. And that's true. That's real. Those families cannot comfortably live in downtown Raleigh right now. And so in that regard, there is an affordable housing problem. And that's the one they want to solve. Right, because that would bring more business and create more tax revenue and that kind of thing, but by definition, our housing crisis is hurting those lower-income people much harder than it is the, you know, the upper, upper, low, and moderate-income families. For instance, I couldn't afford to buy a house in Raleigh, but I can afford to buy a house in Knightdale. And I can still go out to eat and I can still do these things. But there are people who cannot afford housing anywhere and are on the verge of homelessness. And that's a whole different issue that is very costly to address and it does not generate the same types of revenues for the city that rehousing families like myself in downtown would. And so because of that approach to the issue at hand, it will only ever result in more displacement. And the increasing change of the identity of the black neighborhoods in downtown Raleigh because they've been serially, not underfunded, but under appraised for so long that those are the cheapest parcels of land in the area. And so those are the easiest ones to acquire and gain revenue from.
Preservation groups working with neighborhood residents recently undertook efforts to protect two historically African American neighborhoods: Oberlin and Method. Oberlin suffered a loss of community when a major thoroughfare was built physically severing the close knit community in two. Continued development in this high traffic retail and business area forced the sale of many homes, accentuating the loss of community. Preservation N.C. recently saved two historic homes by moving them out of a new development track, but while the houses were preserved, the community is mostly lost. The Method neighborhood also targeted for highway division was spared when residents successfully partnered with the Raleigh Historic Development Commission to have the neighborhood’s historic African American school campus named to the National Register of Historic Places blocking the proposed highway route. Despite other physical changes, including the demolition of significant buildings and houses, Method remains an important historical and cultural place to the many blacks who lived and attended school there.
Are the recent preservation steps undertaken in the Oberlin and Method neighborhoods cause for optimism? Are they too little, too late? Or are they timely warnings to protect not just what remains of these communities architecturally, but also equally if not more significant, ensure their African American presence and character?
[1] Linda Simmons-Henry and Linda Harris Edmisten, Culture Town Life in Raeigh’s African American Communities (Raleigh, North Carolina: Raleigh historic Districts Commission, Inc., 1993), X-Xi.
[2] Overlay districts are meant to achieve a specific purpose, such as preservation of existing neighborhood-built characteristics, protecting public safety and welfare, or conserving natural areas.
[3] Courtney Napier was raised in Wake County Raleigh, North Carolina but now lives in Knightdale another Wake County city. She is the founder of Black Oak Society, a community of Black writers and artists in the greater Raleigh area and the editor of BOS Zine. She writes for INDY Week and her blog, “Courtney Has Words”.
Susan Garrity is a current OHMA student and a volunteer and supporter of issues and opportunities affecting her Raleigh community. Her current focus is on activating the oral histories of the diverse legacies reflected in the history of a centuries old 300 + acre site being developed into an urban park. By memorializing the lives of those who intersected with the site, including Indigenous Americans, enslaved people and the mentally ill, she hopes to contribute to successfully bringing “Memory to Action”.