http://www.governing.com/topics/politics/Land.html
Land Rush
Inner cities are becoming hot places to live. Does government have any business telling developers to keep out?
BY
JOHN BUNTIN | MARCH 2006
Gentrification, a phenomenon normally associated with coastal cities such as New York and San Francisco, is now heading inland, transforming inner-city neighborhoods from Milwaukee to Raleigh-Durham to Albuquerque. It's even come to Houston, the three-beltway city that loves to sprawl. Since 2003, the number of Houston-area suburbanites "very interested" in moving into the city has doubled, according to sociologist Stephen Klineberg, who regularly surveys regional attitudes toward the city. Homebuilders are responding by blanketing neighborhoods close to downtown with three-story town homes and lofts.
Such development is no accident. In the past decade, the public sector has invested upwards of $8 billion in the central area Houstonians call "the Inner Loop," much of it geared toward making the city more enticing to affluent suburbanites. There's an eight-mile light rail line, new football and baseball stadiums, a museum district that's doubled in size, new downtown parks and fresh landscaping. Yet now that suburbanites are moving in, it's not just Garnet Coleman who's sounding the alarm. So are Houston's mayor, Bill White, and many members of the city council--particularly those who represent predominantly African-American and Hispanic districts.
COMPETING STRATEGIES
While Coleman pushes his rental strategy in the Third Ward, Mayor White is pursuing a plan focused on homeownership. White's idea is to foreclose on tax-delinquent properties in six poor, close-in neighborhoods. The city will then convert these properties to affordable, owner-occupied housing as part of a larger effort to address other local concerns from crumbling infrastructure to high crime. White calls this "redevelopment that is the opposite of gentrification."
"It's good that there are people who want to live in city limits, but we don't want to destroy the character of a neighborhood," White argues. And, he adds, "Unless we do something aggressive...the market will build in concentric circles around [the downtown] employment center."
What concerns both White and Coleman and most critics of gentrification is the prospect of Third Ward residents getting priced out of their own neighborhood. Recent research, however, suggests that worry is overblown. Studying gentrification's impact in Boston, Duke University economist Jacob Vigdor found that an influx of affluent newcomers had, if anything, merely contributed to Boston's socioeconomic integration. "There is no evidence to suggest that gentrification increases the probability that low-status households exit their housing unit," Vigdor concluded. Columbia University economist Lance Freeman found the same thing last year in a study of New York. In fact, Freeman found that residents of gentrifying neighborhoods were less likely to move than residents of non- gentrifying neighborhoods.
Those studies haven't tempered fears that the Third Ward is on the brink of upheaval and the perception among policy makers that something must be done to tame it. What Houston is discovering, however, is how slippery an issue gentrification can be. The Third Ward today is awash with developers, politicians, neighborhood activists and longtime residents. Each possesses a financial, political or personal stake in what the Third Ward is to become. And each, in distinct ways, is working at cross-purposes. Not only do they disagree on how to solve the Third Ward's gentrification problem; they can't even agree on what the problem is.
Is gentrification, despite what the academics say, really a problem of displacement? Is it a natural and unavoidable consequence of market forces, or does it result from specific policies? Is it a problem of low wages or one of high-priced real estate? Does it require government intervention? That such a debate is playing out in Houston- -a city famous for its lack of zoning and its developer-friendly ethos--is a testament to the passions and confusion that gentrification arouses. What really seems to be at stake is something quite nebulous: the character of a neighborhood. And in Houston, as in many cities, that is inextricably linked to questions of political power and race.
THE POWER BROKER
Garnet Coleman shares most of Lowe's concerns about what's happening in the Third Ward. His hands, however, lie closer to the levers of political power, and his stake in the neighborhood is more deeply personal. "Third Ward is my home--it's not for sale," Coleman says. "A hundred years in my family. It's a very different point of view."
The key to Coleman's approach is money--money to buy land and take it out of circulation. To get it, Coleman is utilizing a quasi- governmental authority, deploying tactics that would make the legendary highway and bridge builder Robert Moses proud. If Moses manipulated the back channels of power in New York for the cause of promoting development, however, Coleman is doing the same in Houston in order to impede it.
Coleman's vehicle is an urban investment tool known to most cities that use it as "tax increment financing." In Houston, the arrangement goes by a different name--"tax increment reinvestment zone" or TIRZ. The idea is that as a depressed area redevelops, the resulting increase in property taxes pays for more improvements in the neighborhood. Houston's city council has designated 22 such TIRZs in different neighborhoods, each with its own governing board. Typically, their goal is to spruce up sidewalks, lighting and landscaping, in hopes of attracting even more development.
One TIRZ, in a neighborhood known as Midtown, is acting a little differently. Midtown is a once run-down area of commercial warehouses just east of the Third Ward. It's now transformed into a thriving neighborhood of apartments, shops, restaurants and nightclubs. The board of the Midtown TIRZ is divided between Coleman loyalists and appointees of Mayor White. The board has chosen to use almost all of its revenues--$10 million in the past five years--to purchase and then "bank" land in the Third Ward. "If you look at Midtown, that was all publicly induced--ain't none of it affordable," says Coleman. "Why can't we do the same thing for people who need an affordable place to live?"
It's a decidedly unorthodox arrangement, one whose very existence seems to be something of a secret. Coleman declines to say how much land the Midtown TIRZ has banked in the Third Ward. He'll say only that he wants the land to be used for low-income rental housing, with deeds held by local churches and CDCs that could borrow against the value of the land in order to build more affordable housing. "Low- density rental is the only way for it to be affordable," Coleman argues. "You keep the character of the neighborhood while providing affordable housing."
In order to save the Third Ward, Coleman seems intent on freezing its current character and demographics in place. An essential part of his plan is to attach restrictive deeds to the rental properties to ensure that they are never sold to private developers or converted to condos. But is it really possible for a neighborhood to resist change? Fifty years ago, much of the area that Coleman now sees as his patrimony was a largely Jewish neighborhood. Only in the 1960s did the area become predominantly black. What Coleman is trying to do is keep it that way. He seems to enjoy the challenge. "Everyone said it couldn't be done," he crows, with obvious relish. "I said, 'Watch me.'"