The Stability in Failure, Aversion, and Schism

An “All-Volunteer” Organization

The stability of the FOW hold on power after 1992 is thrown into relief by the incredible instability of the staff; even when the employee roster ground down to zero, the FOW/Alliance board soldiered on. They did so not only without a cooperative staff (or any staff at all), but in the face of repeated lawsuits brought by employees against the Alliance and a few individual board members. The incredible thing is, that in the face of continual, robust revolts from many sides against this small faction, they never lost power for long. There was little modification of their agenda, little cooptation of moderates at all to strengthen their position, and almost no compromises with the funders and municipal officials. The only change I can see was that their language became more muted and conciliatory.

In 1995 the Alliance director who had brought some decorum back to the organization left, and the board hired a new director internally, and while she had much more of a pro-business perspective than the social justice directors of the past, she quit in

a tumult less than a year later (the Alliance Executive Committee suggested to her that she should either resign or be given a probationary period, but later the whole board criticized the committee for taking this action). Soon after her departure she hired a lawyer to sue a FOW board member for comments he made about her personal life. The board chair wrote her to chastise her “bad mouthing” of the Alliance, and offered that she instead should “look within” herself to find the source of the current problems in her life. The chair felt that the ex-director was trying to kill the organization by complaining about it directly to its major funders, and in addition he said that when she quit she left the office in a total mess.

Grievances were filed all around, with FOW board members making accusations against other board members and staff. Then a black employee filed a discrimination complaint against the organization, after he claimed that someone on the safety

committee said that he must be a drug dealer. The board responded in writing that “the Alliance serves a multi-racial, multi-cultural neighborhood. Its board members are black, white, Hispanic and Eurasian.” The Alliance found a solution to these problems – a Grievance Committee. The committee, made up of board members, asked five former employees to meet with them. However, the employees declined because they felt that the committee contained some people who were openly hostile to them, so instead they went to the Minneapolis Mediation Program. When the committee received a letter inviting them to participate in a mediation with neutral mediators, the committee ignored the mediators. Instead they wrote the five to say that since they had refused to meet with the committee, they had wasted the time and energy of the committee members who had acted in good faith, and were not amused. “On analysis, it appears that the only possible motivation is to create disruption and aggravation for the Whittier Alliance Board. This is a frivolous waste of everyone’s time and energy and should be ceased immediately.”

The language of the Alliance board had shifted from its combative tone after first gaining control, to irritated conciliation in an effort to keep control. In a letter to one D&D member, the chair lectured that everyone needs to now come together after all the fighting between factions; “no one person or group is entirely right or wrong,” and

continual criticism is not what is needed now. However, their discourse was not of appeasement but pacification, not apology but condescension.

It was not only a combative time, but a confusing time for everyone. When the black employee was no longer at work, it was unclear even to people in the organization at the time if he was fired or quit. The board had been so unsuccessful at managing, maintaining, and working with their employees, that by mid-1996 there was no staff left standing. The other two employees in early 1996 had exited because of a combination of bad blood and lack of money to pay them. In the face of this calamity, the board simply declared the Alliance to be an “all-volunteer” organization. Left only with themselves, they made lemonade, spinning their failure as an opportunity to shed bureaucracy and expenditures. The Alliance was now a pure grassroots organization, fed solely by the people who would be most affected by the organization’s work, those who lived and/or owned property in the neighborhood.

Othering the Alliance

Sophia was a long-time member of the Whittier Neighbors, and on top of working for women’s rights and the Democratic Party, she helped to perpetuate the divide

between the Neighbors and the Alliance more than any other activist I knew. Many times I would overhear Sophia trying to precisely delineate the difference between the Alliance and Neighbors. At one board meeting she posited that “the Alliance is about economic issues, while the Neighbors is about social ones … Which is a nice way of saying that we care about people and they care about money.” To which another board member replied, “you’re being too charitable to the Alliance.” Another time Sophia essentialized the two organizations this way, “And I think we’re the bleeding hearts,” while the Alliance believes that “what’s good for businesses is what’s good for the neighborhood.” By defining the gulf between the major actors in Whittier politics, she was concretizing it.

With her long history in city politics and in residing in the neighborhood, I was shocked when half an hour into our two hour interview she admitted that she had never once been to an Alliance meeting; not on any issue, whether it be on muggings, voting rights, Lydia, getting Somalis more involved, light rail lines, housing co-ops, or any of a

hundred other issues. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, time and time again she was the biggest voice I personally heard promoting negative representations of the Alliance. Sophia never missed a chance to comment on how many Alliance board

members do not live in the neighborhood. “They’re more concerned about the economics of the community than the quality of life of the neighborhood, because most of them leave the community before it gets dark” (which is ironic because “quality of life issues” is a buzzword among those very people she dislikes). Another very active Neighbors member told me that he had tried going to a few Alliance meetings, but the things people said there had just made him mad. Sophia however could not even say that the meetings bothered her, or that any individuals bothered her, she had never met them or heard directly what any had said. What bothered her were many of the public positions taken by the Alliance board, and what she had heard second hand about the Alliance from its detractors.

I do not want to belittle Sophia’s commitment to the neighborhood; not seeing the Alliance for herself does not make her activism with the Neighbors any less meaningful. What I want to do is show the negative correlation between harsh discourse and first- hand familiarity. In my experience, even the most polarized activists always had at least something nice to say about their particular opponents, IF they knew them personally. Longtime opponents of Dave Hoban who knew him, admitted he was a great organizer; opponents of Terrence knew him to be a passionate advocate for the homeless; critics of Joan conceded that she was selfless; and those who detested Ruben’s defense of

affordable housing still found him to be a really nice guy.

The most off the cuff, broad, or categorical comments about ones rivals were usually made about those who one had never actually had to deal with face to face. Being the outsiders, the Whittier Neighbors were always much more forthcoming with

invectives about the Alliance than the other way around, but the old-timer D&D members who had fought those early 1990s battles with the FOW, did not like to spend much time reliving the harsh words directed at them, and especially coming from them. Likewise, the old-time FOW activists were pretty reticent to spill too much dirt to me on the D&D

crowd (perhaps because they did not want to stir up the dirt about themselves during those years).

The Neighbors never really dealt directly with issues of crime or danger, and while Sophia was not particularly scared of crime, it was an important consideration in her life. Before moving to Whittier she had only had on-street parking, and “twice someone walked by and smashed all the windows out of our car. So we wanted a place with underground parking.” It surprised me that she had never been interested in the crime reports and police updates that local police lieutenants regularly gave at the beginning of Alliance Community Issues meetings. But then again, it is not surprising – while her safety was crucial to her personally, as a policy issue it did not rate. She had personally seen to her own safety; she specifically chose to live above the ground floor of a modern, apartment building (she would rather live in an apartment than a house,

because commercially secured buildings are less vulnerable than some old house with all their first floor windows). For the Neighbors (like for progressives nationally), when people are heard railing about crime and safety, it is often seen as just a way to brand certain minority groups as essentially criminal in nature, and a way to distract from the underlying (structural) issues of inequality, and of the injustice historically perpetrated against those groups that are more often accused of crimes. While Sophia shared concerns about safety in common with the Alliance board members, she proved to have distinctly different theories on the causes of the crime.

For example, when I asked Sophia what she thought about stability in

neighborhoods, the question quickly prompted a tirade directly against the wealthy in Whittier, who she felt did not appreciate their lower class neighbors.

And what are you [FOW], doing in Whittier? You know the neighborhood you are moving into [has crime], neighborhoods are what they are, to the core. But I would not presume I’d live in a mansion in Minnetonka [a stereotyped wealthy suburb], I wouldn’t feel comfortable, it’s not my values. It’s conspicuous consumption. If I had the money, I do other things with it. If a millionaire wants to buy a house here [in Whittier], they need to blend into the lifestyle of the neighborhood. They need to be comfortable, they can’t expect to come in and throw their weight around; they are buying into something. It’s sort of like, do you marry someone you are compatible with, or do you marry someone who you

want to become the spouse you want them to be, and I think we both know which person will be more happy.

What Sophia did not realize is that she shared the same disdain for the wealth and homogeneity of Minnetonka as her neighborhood enemies; they moved into Whittier for the same reason as she.

Diversity for Sophia meant pushing for low income housing units in each new condo project, as many FOW activists also support. She felt that the funds from the Neighborhood Revitalization Program (NRP) were supposed to be used to replace the federal funds that were drying up that had been for low-income housing. And, “that’s how it used to be before the Republicans [FOW] took over … Those people who worship market driven economics.” For Sophia the “Republicans” were using money that was supposed to go for the poor, in order to gentrify minorities right out of their homes (however, the NRP itself only specified that a majority of its funds be spent on “housing,” not what kind).

This points to a serious difference in the way the term “minorities” is conceived, for there are minorities and there are minorities. The literal conception simply counts people numerically; whoever there are less of is the minority. In Whittier this means homeowners, as they make up only 11% of the households. However, in the world of social sciences and civil rights there is a more profound way to see the differences among people in a society; a minority is a group who holds less wealth and influence in a

society, those who are not among the dominant, but instead have historically been oppressed. In Whittier this would include such groups as poor, renters, blacks, Latinos, disabled, homeless, and mentally ill. Depending on which definition of minority one subscribes to, housing funds for those in the “minority” would flow in substantially divergent directions.

This difference however is not a matter of simply defining something differently, but about the way one theorizes society to work. Sophia’s position is based on the argument that a society that does not collectively intervene in the fortunes of its least fortunate, risks the whole society. And a vibrant society is one where all its members have the means to fully participate in the economy and politics. Hence, those who lack

money and access need help, not simply because they deserve it as humans, but because to neglect them is to risk living in a society that lacks quality for everyone. For the FOW, the policies they implemented at the Alliance are based on the theory that a community’s health hinges most on those who have the money, time, resources and motivation to invest directly in the health of their community. The fortunes of society are best served by helping those who are in a position to contribute to the economic and political health of the neighborhood. Subsidizing low interest loans for buying or improving a home, helps those who are best positioned to help the neighborhood. It also helps those who will stay the longest in the neighborhood, hence stabilizing it. Goetz found that (1994b:325),

Activists equate the interests of the homeowners and property owners with the interests of the whole neighborhood. The trick-down benefits produced by introduction or keeping middle class families in the neighborhood, they argue, justify strategies that enhance the exchange value of neighborhood land.

On the other hand, FOW see subsidizing the rent of those who contribute little to local businesses and organizations, is not only throwing government’s money down the drain, but keeping it out of the hands of those who can best utilize it for the sake of all. Goetz also found that (1994b:332),

Property owners … organized around the issue of particularized vs. universal benefits and successfully articulated the view that social services for the poor and the rehabilitation of low income rental housing harm the neighborhood, while the pursuit of development and homeownership is beneficial.

For those interested in growing the small numbers of homeowners in Whittier, the only realistic growth in homeownership was going to come in the form of condos, since almost no single family home had been built in Whittier in generations. And while Sophia had no love for these condos, she did appreciate that the brick facades of the condo’s “they’ve built have at least fit into the neighborhood.” However, not having been to Alliance meetings, what Sophia could not have known is that this brick (urban)

aesthetic did not happen by chance, but was a direct result of the relentless pressure that the FOW in the Alliance at all times put on developers who came calling in the

neighborhood.

In my interview her however, she spent much of our time making the case for national health care and talking about her support of women’s rights. Growing up in

1940s small town Minnesota was not necessarily the most liberating for a woman, but the praise she had received from her father and the support of her mother gave her

confidence. Now in her 60s, she still clearly relished telling me about how her father, a master craftsman, would brag to others about how his daughter was as a carpenter as anyone. Meanwhile her mother had pushed her to do well in school, which resulted in straight A’s and even more self-confidence (but while she had thought of becoming a lawyer, she had not wanted to fight the battle of being a woman lawyer in 1960s Minnesota).

Conclusion

While doing pre-research in Whittier I had originally read Ed Goetz’s article on the effects of subsidized housing on inner-city Minneapolis, but had forgotten its

conclusions until rereading it many years later while writing the second draft this chapter. What I discovered was I had unwittingly redone part of his research and confirmed it.lxxvi Goetz found that neighborhood organizations in Minneapolis,

Have little or no objection [in general] to subsidized housing as a social welfare policy … The opposition to subsidized housing, therefore, primarily rests upon its suitability as a community development policy. Is subsidized housing good for the neighborhoods in which it is placed?lxxvii (Goetz 1996:6).

What a wonderful way to put it – a debate over “community development policy,” as opposed to a debate over who likes minorities more, who is more selfish, who is protecting the poor better, or who is or is not a NIMBY? While the debate in Whittier could not but be about race and class, pointing a lens on theories of neighborhood development shows the paradigms under which class conflict and racial inequality are understood and realized. Take for example one major paradigm in Whittier politics, that of neighborhood health and stability. In her ethnography of the highly polarized abortion clinic debate in Fargo, North Dakota, Faye Ginsburg (1989) argued that both the pro- choice and pro-life activists see their activism as “nurturing” woman and families. This paradigm of “nurturance” is what they share; it is in the details of exactly how to nurture that the two sides differ. Similarly, the FOW and D&D both saw their activism as

increasing the health and stability of Whittier; where they differ mainly is in their theories of how exactly an urban neighborhoods can reach health and stability.

However, simply adhering to different philosophies does not community polarization make; we all know that people can disagree fiercely but not relate fiercely. This chapter has shown how polarization was caused by the way that unique people, who held specific, divergent theories of neighborhood revitalization, and used particular strategies to attempt to achieve that vitality, actually did relate to each other. This will be developed further in the following chapters dealing with crime, diversity, privilege, and especially democracy.

But a social or ideological divide was not the only result acrimonious conflict.