Month: April 2019

I found in the article by Bill Weinberg extremely interesting and very telling of an anarchist punk’s take on communal empowerment through a peaceful economic and political revolution. His ideas of collective organization stem from a distaste of external/occupying forces and trends influencing the value placed upon development and the subsequent shape a community takes. Though not solely based around economic tools of extraction (markets) or organized crime this distaste for external power structures is channeled towards all forms of the top-down civic administration which limits true communal empowerment.
This removal or rather a refusal of exterior urban infrastructure though incredibly badass in its revolutionary spirit puts the otis of maintaining an independent collective of individuals on the resident’s ability to fight off self-interested predatory parties. This is done through the legitimization of the community, not through the begging the city from a place of weakness, the ‘defanged community board 3’, but rather it must come from a revolutionary communal board. Bull Refers to the organization of the community to be representative of the popular opinion of residents and not token sentiments of understanding in the face of constant private interests.
Stemming from local neighborhood meetings “the Popular community board’ will exist as a tool of democratic chaos using resident’s votes to create a narrative separating the Lower Eastside into an autonomous zone dubbed LESAZ. The extreme revolutionary spirit found within this LESAZ manifesto pays tribute to the background of the area of protest and revolution, though in contemporary markets such actions may be detrimental
When discussing the presence of external economic actors, I complete agreeing with Bill’s opinions that they would need to rely on the taxing of large economic figures such as corporations for support. Though to seek to revolutionize the taxing systems of one of the most valued systems of private development in the world may prove to take much longer than feasible for a ‘revolutionary’ transition. This coupled with the innate distaste for any external influence top-down systems project onto the community, aesthetically or economically, adds to the list of strong enemies, or lack of wealthy allies. As I highly doubt there would be a violent extraction of Mcdonalds and corporations like it, the removing of uncharacteristic’ behemoths may be more effort than its worth. The litigious fees as well should corporations such as McDonald’s chose to fight a forced removal would be enough to cripple early economic markets severely. This lack of strong financial support safe would not be conducive in maintaining self-sufficiency especially in the expertise and labor that would be required. These strong ideologies would, in fact, lead to the alienation of many New York Institutions in their survival perhaps evolve them but without a doubt end many of the jobs and systems of individual economic participation today. I would be interested in supporting such a community though for an agrarian sustain revolution in New York City doesn’t seem to be economically feasible in the way Copper Square Land trust has historically created a means in which to balancing its economic survival with growth and not separation.
Though I agree entirely the idea of converting vacant lots to agricultural centers and employing residents for maintenance I’m concerned with the prioritize notions of agriculture as the preferred tool for economic empowerment.
We saw on the tour from Bill that though many of the communal Gardens are under the administration and governance of the Parks Department, they are in fact the results of historical and continued community engagement, participation, and democracy. Through these parks, I agree that there exists a plethora of economic potential and possibilities but not to fight the system but to grow within it.

Personally, I worry that this plan seems to value the economic independence that an agrarian revolution can offer vs. arguably the real strength of gardens, the strengthening of the neighborhood’s physical and social environment.

Change in the use of public space change who the space is intended for and how the space can be used. The Lower East Side is defined by a long history of different types of “public” space for different uses and ultimately different people. During the mid-twentieth century, real estate disinvested from New York City. Former tenement buildings became unused and, when the city went through a recession in 1977, many publicly used buildings went vacant. Community groups, such as Loisaida, laid claim to these unused properties. These were intended to create community spaces for those who remained in the neighborhood— the Puerto Rican working class, artists, the homeless, and activists. The unused spaces became community centers and the location for these marginalized groups to organize to preserve their community. Using these properties in itself was a political statement. It decommodified the land, taking it from the real estate or city interests into the marginalized community squatters. The land went from liberal ownership to collective use through community action (149). This was particularly beneficial to the residents of the Lower East Side, who would not be able to own property under liberal property ownership schemes, who had space to their own communities and futures.

Reclaimed parks and garden space in the Lower East Side were one way to form these communities that consider them for a variety of marginalized people, as well as beyond purely human schema and instead as part of larger ecological communities. As Weinberg writes “parks are supposed to be neighborhood meeting places, public communities and, when necessary, forums for free speech and protest, available to anyone, regardless of income or social status” (Weinberg 46). Reclaiming this public space means letting the people, who are usually excluded by government action, to use it for their own needs: allowing homeless people to live there, protestors to organize, and food to be grown. Community gardens exemplify this. Built in the remnants of burned down tenements, they were claimed by the residents of the Lower East Side that stayed through disinvestment. They are both places to build community and ecological resilience. The community gardening system became one way to more sustainably handle waste. Weinberg proposes to expanding the gardens from former tenement sites to rooftops and other locations in the area. Efforts to compost and build community-run food systems bring ecosystems into the narratives, as well as protecting marginalized human communities. In combining the two, these systems create collective autonomy for the communities.

By in large the collective ideal is under threat today. The suburbs were a way for the white middle class to create a space for themselves in the 1950s—a space defined by exclusion. Reclaimed spaces reacted in the cities in contrast to this. However, starting in the 70s and 80s the return to the city by the new urban middle-class determined what the city should look like (Weinberg 50). This change, gentrification, was both the installation of new and unequal wealth, but also new values and aesthetics. These two factors—economic and cultural—are highly interconnected and work cooperatively. Public space is not always the space intended for everyone. It is monitored and controlled, according to whose identities are preferred. Private property (particularly with exception high rents) and rules and regulation of public spaces show the conflict between individual property rights for the rich and collective space for the people. Still, while the ideal of a fully autonomous, collective Lower East Side was not met, community gardens and other forms of reclaimed space persist today.

The chapter on Loisaida by Nandini Bagchee and the essay by Bill Weinberg helped solidify the histories and concepts we were introduced to by the Weinberg himself on our trip to the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space. The in-depth historical background given by Bagchee was nicely contextualized by my experiences seeing many of the actual locations described in the text. After reading these texts, I have all the more appreciation and respect for the way the social/cultural reclamation of this section of the Lower East Side by the Puerto Rican community has been preserved through the years.

I think could be reasonably difficult for some to understand the purpose of protecting an empty lot-turned-community garden from speculation and development. The gardens could be perceived as a relic of a nearly unimaginable time when land in the Lower East Side was once considered undesirable. When one looks into the history, however, the symbolism behind the gardens becomes clearer; the area is an example of what Bagchee terms “property as resistance.” The neighborhood has always been, as phrased in the chapter, a stepping stone to a better life for immigrant families. The employment, housing and education crisis of the 1970s encouraged activism in the community, especially giving new agency to the large Puerto Rican community, who renamed part of the neighborhood Loisaida. The community, helped by groups such as AAD and CHARAS, planted gardens in vacant lots, and turned tenements into cooperative housing. Ultimately their movement encompassed the reclamation of public spaces that had been abandoned, “piecing together a fragmented city scape with acts of public participation.” I was moved to read about the artistic community that arose out of this movement, especially around El Bohio (the reclaimed old schoolhouse that served as a community center). Loisaida represents the powerful ties between land and community; by reshaping the land into purposeful public spaces, the public became engaged in the art and activism of and for their community.

Weinberg’s frustration with the government’s overall dismissal of the community history is palpable in “Viva Loisaida Libre.” He expresses his dismay at the privatization of public spaces by private administration and heavy policing that is “antithetical to this vision”– a vision that not only represents the ideals of the grassroots DIY ethic, hard work, and de-commodification of labor that Loisaida supported, but Weinberg’s vision of public spaces. He describes public spaces like parks to be neighborhood meeting places where, when necessary, “forums for free speech and protest” are “available to anyone, regardless of income or social status.” I wanted to note in this post that Weinberg mentions the privatization of part of the East River Park, which is relevant to my project on the East River Coastal Resiliency project–recently, there has been community backlash against the developers, who initially planned the construction around the park with community members. Community plans were thrown out behind their backs, their input ultimately ignored–the East River Park is now set to be buried under a landfill, with a new park build atop it. I can imagine the disrespect a community member might feel from the city when their voices, arguably the most important voices in cases regarding their community, are not listened to.

Weinberg also mourns the social-cultural losses he has seen firsthand, describing something that I have noticed before but have been thus far unable to articulate: “It is not a city of neighborhoods and working people,” he claims, and goes further to say that cities like New York are now “merely centers for elite global management and electronic paperwork.” The turn of events in the community was something that I recall even Mr. Weinberg saying to have been unable to foresee, summarized in a sentence by Bagchee that I found particularly enlightening: “Whereas during the 70s community groups had focused on laying a physical claim to an unwanted neighborhood, the next decade was about preserving these gains.”

While reading “Avant Gardening,” by Bill Weinberg, many truths were revealed about the injustice of the government and state control on middle/lower class people, who make up a majority of the population. Weinberg does a great job of highlighting the reasons Loisaida Libre seems to be the best solution to separating oneself from the further privatization and gentrification of New York City, specifically the Lower East Side. With the rapid increase of police interference, unbalanced power, and lack of authority for the lay person, Weinberg believes, “this issue cuts to the heart of whether we contemporary urbanites live in a democratic culture…private administration and heavy policing is antithetical to this vision” (46). While New York claims to be there for its people, past mayors such as David Dinkins and Rudolph Giuliani prove this claim to be false with the repeated support of private companies, laws, and institutions that further the divide between the classes. For example, “in the New Municipal Order, the city only owes police protection to the affluent-not services to the poor…Giuliani’s agenda is to follow the national trend towards privatization of city services-further squeezing out access for citizens no among the yuppie elite” (49). Police forces are slowly being bought by the elite and display their obvious disregard for the entire population with the mistreatment and discrimination they pose on the lower class. The cost of living and the ability to raise prices drastically each year is a threat on the well-being of most of New York City’s population. Elderly people and minorities are especially subject to the downsides of privatization due to the greedy and immoral mindset of landlords and elite institutions. These injustices are especially upsetting because many middle/lower classes families have turned to the wealthy in the past to advocate and support positive reform and restoration that benefits the masses. Weinberg writes, “…whatever pathetic façade of neighborhood democracy existed under the Democrat machine is being rapidly dismantled. The era of looking to bureaucrats for solutions is definitively over. Citizens will only be able to make their power felt from below” (51). In short, we need to fight for ourselves on our own and not rely on anyone else.

This display of power from below can be seen through the proposed community of the Lower East Side Autonomous Zone. With the implementation of strict laws in regard to money, fines, fees, and price, LESAZ will provide a community and environment beneficial to lower income households and minorities. By planning to be a completely green society that produces no waste, LESAZ and its possible success has the potential to introduce other cities to a newer, greener way of living. Furthermore, by only allowing natural and organic food and supplies, the overall health and well-being of its community will hopefully rise, resulting in better quality of life. While this proposed community is extremely ambitious and well thought out, there is a major potential for the community to fail tremendously. Loisaida Libre plans to eventually earn income off of its recycling skills and implement its authority with the backing of organizations that are crucial to running the city. These intentions can easily fall apart because of the major authority New York City has. The city has the power to completely shut down this proposed community, regardless of its benefits. Furthermore, this community will be the result of a drastic change for multiple people. Not everyone will be willing to follow the rules 100% and may hinder the growth and prosperity of Loisaida. When a person’s lifestyle changes in almost all aspects, the chance of rebellion, abandonment, and disagreement by that person greatly increases. My concern is that not enough people will be on board for this idea. While I truly believe there is potential to change the way we run our cities and lives, I worry that fear, stubbornness, and ignorance will hinder LESAZ’s potential.

 

This week’s readings help to paint a picture of the experiences faced by the predominantly Puerto Rican residents of the post war Lower East Side. Together, Nandini Bagchee’s chapter, “The Communitarian Estates of Loisaida (1967-2001)”, and Peter Wilson and Bill Weinberg’s “Avant-Gardening: Ecological Struggle in The City & The World”, tell a complete story of abandonment by the city, and the rise of a strong community organising movement which stepped in to counteract this abandonment. If one reads “Avant Gardening” out of context, it is easy to dismiss its increasingly anti-establishment rhetoric as pure fiction. Suggestions of abolishing the current world order, and an open, passionate hostility of the Lower East Side towards the rest of New York City, upon first observation, seems to border on delusional. When considered through the lens of Bagchee’s chapter, however, the strongly autonomous language begins to make more sense. The chapter outlines the history of community organizing in the Lower East Side, which was born out of the adverse conditions of the post Second World War neighborhood. Deindustrialization and landlord abandonment, later combined with New York City’s bankruptcy, the oil crisis, and many other factors left residents of the Lower East Side feeling almost completely abandoned. In this environment, CHARAS, the community organization primarily concerned with affordable housing, essentially became the leaders seeking to return the numerous abandoned buildings to productive use. This non-government restoration of community services, however, came under threat in the late 1980’s and throughout the 1990’s, as New York City began to emerge from it’s bankruptcy. As property values and speculative development activity began to return to the neighborhood, the precarious legal foundations related to the physical spaces occupied by the numerous community groups began to undermine the progress of CHARAS and the community as a whole. It is this infiltration, to which “Avant Gardening” responds. While the extreme rhetoric implicitly advocated in the concept of the Lower East Side Autonomous Zone may seem irrational at first, it comes, not only out of a need for self preservation, but out of the immense progress which had been made by the community organizations of the Lower East Side throughout the previous 25 years. In this context, it is highly possible that an autonomous Lower East Side could have been very successful, they were essentially autonomous since the 1970’s.

Over the course of this semester, we’ve learned about the ways in which land has been dispossessed, property has mismanaged to keep marginalized communities in poor living conditions or updated to evict them for richer tenants, and how the soul of a neighborhood  and its public convening spaces have been sanitized for the sake of gain by the state and corporate interests. Through reading about the legacies of Puerto-Rican-led organizing towards the world the community wished to see, we see a reclamation of the perceived autonomy over land and property usage from the state into the hands of the people who live in the neighborhood itself. 

It goes without saying that today’s New York leaves much to be desired in terms of providing for its citizens through both social service and infrastructure initiatives. It’s hard for one not to be outraged by the recent report outlining how Hudson Yards was financed through an EB-5 visa workaround which qualified it as a distressed and targeted employment area by connecting it to Harlem’s public housing projects, one of many ways in which the city continues to prioritize the city’s capitalist ends rather than working for something better for its residents. At times, feeling hopeful for something better seems pointless when the entire city is weighed down by these seemingly-impenetrable forces controlling every aspect of urban life. 

And  yet, there are those who continue to fight, denying this entities their unopposed immutability. Queens-based organizers such as those in Make the Road united together to force Amazon out of Long Island City. The same has happened in Berlin with Google. There are those like United Workers in Baltimore who demand that their government use their resources to invest in the development of collectively-owned and managed lands. And, important to our case today, we see that La Plaza Cultural and the Loisaida Center are still standing. That squats have been incorporated into legal living spaces. That these developments are not new, and that (at least some of them) have stood the test of time over the decades and remain central points within the community is something to be admired. 

As “Anarchist Bill” said during our tour a few weeks ago, the fact that El Bohio remains unoccupied and undeveloped years after it was acquired by a private developer is a promising sign as well, that the dream of another cultural center might be realized within the next decade. 

And while we can hope for an autonomous Lower East Side, we might be also able to expand into cross-neighborhood solidarity, and see a New York liberated from those who have held its people back creating beautiful, collectively-sustained communities.