Heal H Street

Last night, I stood around with a gaggle of neighbors, friends, coworkers, and curious strangers on the corner of G&9th to watch the premiere of Heal H Street, a documentary short by H Street local Craig Corl. Because the permits hadn't been worked out with the Sherwood Rec Center, the film ended up being projected onto the side of a neighbor's house, lending a bit of novelty to the atmosphere.

G & 9th NE, April 22, 2014

The film covered the recent history of the neighborhood, beginning shortly before MLK's assassination through the aftermath of the riots and neighborhood neglect, to the start of gentrification and the ensuing cultural shifts.  The film also traces the filmmaker's personal growth as someone who was born a few years before the riots in an entirely different world, and who struggled to come to terms with his existence as a gentrifier on H Street. While perhaps the process of gentrification and H Street investors are portrayed as probably more deliberately hostile than they are, as I'm more inclined to see the small-stepped micro-decisions and individually-made logical decisions that make up a wave of neighborhood change, the documentary rings true about the relationships that need to be forged among new and old residents in whatever H Street is becoming, and the need to remember the past. 

Heal H Street is now available online for anyone who would like to view it -- and I would certainly recommend it. 

Becoming Invisible in Your Own Neighborhood

Yesterday, Morning Edition put out a story about how the process of gentrification might actually be beneficial to those who have always lived in the neighborhood, and they focused on H Street. This isn't too surprising that NPR chose H Street, given their new headquarters only a few blocks away, but regardless, I was heartened by the news that by moving to H Street I wasn’t kicking somebody’s grandmother out into the cold.

The article explores how the process of gentrification improves parks, schools and other amenities. That isn’t exactly newsworthy, in and of itself. But NPR went on to look at new studies which seems to imply that not only do long-time residents stay in the gentrified neighborhoods, there are many other side benefits, including better credit scores, new jobs, and a safer environment.

If this is true, it’s good news. What’s puzzling to me is why it doesn’t seem to be true. The social scientists were just as surprised as I am. They were gathering data to see how much displacement gentrification caused, but instead they found gentrification increased retention, and they were shocked. They must have been shocked because when gentrification happens, it doesn't seem like the people who lived there before are still there. 

This is what troubles me: If the people who have always lived in the neighborhood are still here and present, why does it seem as though the people who lived here before have been displaced? What has changed so much in newly gentrified community that it seems as though the people who lived there before have suddenly become invisible? Are our social groups so totally closed off, with different hang out spots, different work and life schedules, that they never overlap in meaningful ways? 

And if we are actually so isolated that we never see or interact with each other, what is it that would make our neighborhood a neighborhood, not just a ZIP code?

PS If you have thoughts on this -- why it seems like people aren't there anymore -- please leave them in the comments, I am genuinely curious!

The "Death" of a Church

A church very close to where I live was just sold for $2.2M to developers. I'm not sure what the deal is, or why the church decided to sell. Perhaps they are taking the money and starting a new ministry somewhere else; perhaps they are moving somewhere else in the neighborhood; perhaps the community slowly died, and the building was only a shell of what the community used to be. I work elsewhere in the city on Sunday mornings, so I haven't been around to see whether or not there are active church services there or not. A reasonable amount of internet snooping led to no new information, and so I'm left with my conjectures.

A few neighborhood blogs have covered the announcement, most notably Frozen Tropics and HStreetGreatStreet. This is the former church of St. John Church of God, if you're wondering which one:

St. John Church of God, Jan. 21, 2014, H&13

Near the front steps:

The former St. John Church of God, Jan. 21, 2014

The chain and lock seem just a little heartbreaking to this Vicar, and when I peered in the front doors, the door to the sanctuary was open, revealing the pews and "Do this in remembrance" lettered on the altar and all the little things that make a regular building a church, hymnals in the pews and signs to the bathroom and bulletin boards with outdated announcements no one has bothered to take down. I found myself a little sad for this little church.

But. Church buildings shouldn't be museums of places where people used to gather in faith but now sit empty. Church buildings shouldn't burden their congregants to the point where all they do is maintain the building and neglect their mission. Church buildings shouldn't exist just for the sake of existing. The building of the church isn't the church, the building is just a place for the people who make up the church to use as a tool for mission. And if that building is getting in the way of the church doing what the church should actually be doing, it needs to go. Period.

I'm not saying that the church building can't be the center of gravity for a community, or a place of sacred reflection that feeds the souls of those who come to worship there. But if the building itself becomes the object of worship, it needs to go. I wonder how many hundreds of thousands of faith communities could be set free if only they could get rid of the idol that is their church building. I wonder what these communities would discover about themselves, about their priorities, about their faith, if they were willing to set out on an adventure, to see their building as a tool for doing ministry in the world around them.

So, on further reflection, I'm not sad for the community, or that little church building, of St. John Church of God. Good for them for going out on faith and moving on, in whatever direction they are taking.

Streetcar Rumors

I get asked by a lot of people about what I know about the streetcars. The answer is, not much. But here's a compilations of rumors I've heard in the last week about the streetcars:

• That the streetcar is going to open in January. Or March. Or June. Of 2014, 2015 or 2016. Or 2020.
• That there is a city council conspiracy to gentrify Anacostia by means of streetcar. 
• That the tracks reached Union Station, but were unable to continue because the planners forgot to ask Amtrak if they could connect their tracks into the station.
• That the streetcars wheels were built as a standard size for streetcars, but the tracks were laid in the standard size for trains. As such, the tracks had to be entirely ripped out and redone, which is why everything is taking so long.

The rumors reflect the natural cynicism of DC residents, and some of them are funny. Whether there is a seed of truth at the center of them, I don't know.

The only thing that I know for sure about the streetcars is that the wires are starting to go up. Please excuse the amateur photography, but check it out:

H & 12 

Looking east on H&12

Some workers using shop vacs to clean out the tracks. H&12

If you'd like some official information (whether it's true or not, I'm not sure... What is truth?), I suggest dcstreetcar.com.

And just for fun, if your favorite streetcar rumor isn't on here, add it to the comments. 

Whole Foods on H Street: Why you should be more angry or less angry than you are

H Street is getting a Whole Foods. I know I'm late to the blogging game on this one-- the news (and here and here) broke last week about the $443M deal and there's been all sorts of chatter about it, and most of it divisive. There seem to be two camps: Develop the hell out of everything and get rid of the "riff raff" (real classy, commentator on Frozen Tropics) or keep things exactly the way that they were... fifteen years ago.

Aside of the all of the hilarious snark that is the byproduct of such a pitched fight, both sides have valid points that the other side seems uninterested in entertaining. Something needs to be done to the 600 block. Murry’s doesn’t exactly contribute to community health with its selection of prepackaged and hydrogenated foods. Conversely, Whole Foods is stupidly, nearly prohibitively expensive, and suburban bland. The same goes for the 430 condos that are slated to be built on top of the Whole Foods: there is a demand for housing that will be met, and which will stimulate the local economy. However, the design looks just like anything else in NoVA. And so, it’s a mixed bag, more than most are willing to admit.

Despite the pitched fight, it seems to me that no one is asking the right questions. Given the reality of development that is coming to H Street, how can we think creatively together to form a new way of being as a community? How do we welcome development in such a way that it brings new life to the neighborhood while working collaboratively with those who have been here a long time? What are the legitimate needs of everyone on both sides of the issue? Given the stories of the past, how are we retelling the story of the neighborhood, which in turn shapes how we see the future?

Ranting is satisfying, but it won't keep the developers at bay. We need to be having non-polarized discussions about the future of the neighborhood that involve all stakeholders.