http://www.newyorker.com/news/daily-comment/american-outsiders-the-border-crisis-and-civil-rights
I read the above article from The New Yorker on a lunch break this past week. I found myself much more moved than I had expected to be by my casual lunchtime reading. Jelani Cobb’s article American Outsiders considers the last few decades of immigration policy in light of the recent influx of refugees from countries like Honduras and El Salvador, and connects current political and social debates to the civil rights movement in the 1960s.
“We commonly think of the civil-rights era as a moral quest for equality. But the movement understood itself as engaged in a struggle for something more foundational: for citizenship, the status from which freedom and equal rights flowed.”
Here, Cobb points out that what history remembers as a moralistic movement was at its core a demand for legal protection and economic opportunity. African Americans in the 1960s clung to limited legal freedoms and were accused of stealing jobs. In fact, the March on Washington was initially conceived by A. Philip Randolph as a “March for Jobs” in protest of economic exploitation. Cobb identifies “paralytic political discussions” that prevented progress in the 60s and in questions of immigration policy reform today. While politicians from the McCarthy era promoted segregation to protect themselves from being labeled as leftists, Tea Party members today must be “tough on immigration” for fear of being labeled as too liberal (Note: Cobb calls out the Tea Party pretty heavily in the article, and I don’t mean to needlessly criticize anyone’s political leanings, but with Eric Cantor losing his seat it seems that the Tea Party’s immigration policies are driven by blind nativism). With this comparison of economic oppression and political inaction, Cobb makes the poignant observation that the burden of second-class citizenship has shifted to a new population, but has never really gone away.
Inevitably, I started to think about the article through the lens of my work in sustainable and equitable development with Futurewise. Cobb’s words stuck with me when she said that “there are no tiers in a true democracy.” When we deny the title of citizen to so many who live in our country, we create a “second tier of humanity” continuing the sad historical trend in which “a part of America lives in precipitous exploitation.” Futurewise sees equitable land use and affordable housing for all as the key to creating livable communities. In this sense, access to housing that is safe, clean, and near food, schools, transit, and recreation, might be viewed as a type of citizenship, a “status” from which quality of life may flow. While those in wealthy neighborhoods of Seattle enjoy trendy bars and organic local food, parts of South King County qualify as food deserts, and people are forced to endure long commutes, failing schools, and crime.
While affordable housing may be a key facet in developing sustainable communities, in the context of this article it is also real a form of citizenship as any other. Walking around in Tukwila doing business surveys has made me understand that it is a different world than Seattle. A plethora of immigrant and refugee communities make the area one that the city celebrates. But, ever-rising rents may lead to gentrification and the alienation of the communities the city should be empowering.
While city officials describe Tukwila as a diverse neighborhood with a lot of “potential,” expensive new developments around the rail station have the potential to create even more American Outsiders. That is, if immigrant communities are left behind in new development, whether economically, socially, or geographically, we are only serving to further separate the “tiers of humanity” that Cobb condemns. Seattle has a good track record with mixed income development, such as creating buildings where some units are subsidized while others are market price. It seems to me that inequalities in housing opportunity should be taken as seriously as more visible forms of discrimination, in order to create inclusive communities that have some hope of being sustainable and healthy in the long term.
Tom Neufeld
Duke Student '15
I read the above article from The New Yorker on a lunch break this past week. I found myself much more moved than I had expected to be by my casual lunchtime reading. Jelani Cobb’s article American Outsiders considers the last few decades of immigration policy in light of the recent influx of refugees from countries like Honduras and El Salvador, and connects current political and social debates to the civil rights movement in the 1960s.
“We commonly think of the civil-rights era as a moral quest for equality. But the movement understood itself as engaged in a struggle for something more foundational: for citizenship, the status from which freedom and equal rights flowed.”
Here, Cobb points out that what history remembers as a moralistic movement was at its core a demand for legal protection and economic opportunity. African Americans in the 1960s clung to limited legal freedoms and were accused of stealing jobs. In fact, the March on Washington was initially conceived by A. Philip Randolph as a “March for Jobs” in protest of economic exploitation. Cobb identifies “paralytic political discussions” that prevented progress in the 60s and in questions of immigration policy reform today. While politicians from the McCarthy era promoted segregation to protect themselves from being labeled as leftists, Tea Party members today must be “tough on immigration” for fear of being labeled as too liberal (Note: Cobb calls out the Tea Party pretty heavily in the article, and I don’t mean to needlessly criticize anyone’s political leanings, but with Eric Cantor losing his seat it seems that the Tea Party’s immigration policies are driven by blind nativism). With this comparison of economic oppression and political inaction, Cobb makes the poignant observation that the burden of second-class citizenship has shifted to a new population, but has never really gone away.
Inevitably, I started to think about the article through the lens of my work in sustainable and equitable development with Futurewise. Cobb’s words stuck with me when she said that “there are no tiers in a true democracy.” When we deny the title of citizen to so many who live in our country, we create a “second tier of humanity” continuing the sad historical trend in which “a part of America lives in precipitous exploitation.” Futurewise sees equitable land use and affordable housing for all as the key to creating livable communities. In this sense, access to housing that is safe, clean, and near food, schools, transit, and recreation, might be viewed as a type of citizenship, a “status” from which quality of life may flow. While those in wealthy neighborhoods of Seattle enjoy trendy bars and organic local food, parts of South King County qualify as food deserts, and people are forced to endure long commutes, failing schools, and crime.
While affordable housing may be a key facet in developing sustainable communities, in the context of this article it is also real a form of citizenship as any other. Walking around in Tukwila doing business surveys has made me understand that it is a different world than Seattle. A plethora of immigrant and refugee communities make the area one that the city celebrates. But, ever-rising rents may lead to gentrification and the alienation of the communities the city should be empowering.
While city officials describe Tukwila as a diverse neighborhood with a lot of “potential,” expensive new developments around the rail station have the potential to create even more American Outsiders. That is, if immigrant communities are left behind in new development, whether economically, socially, or geographically, we are only serving to further separate the “tiers of humanity” that Cobb condemns. Seattle has a good track record with mixed income development, such as creating buildings where some units are subsidized while others are market price. It seems to me that inequalities in housing opportunity should be taken as seriously as more visible forms of discrimination, in order to create inclusive communities that have some hope of being sustainable and healthy in the long term.
Tom Neufeld
Duke Student '15