The Neighborhoods We Want

It's a good thing that people want to live in Atlanta's older walkable neighborhoods, the neighborhoods that were built as streetcar suburbs in the 1920s or even earlier.  These older intown neighborhoods have many lovely older homes, and many have within them small commercial areas that provide walkable destinations, with neighborhood restaurants, coffee shops, bars, and small shops.  As more people want to live in these kind of neighborhoods, there's demand for housing in them.  Some people want to live in the neighborhood but want a bigger house with all the modern amenities.  So older homes are being purchased, demolished, and replaced with bigger houses.  In most parts of the city, the only requirement for newly-constructed houses is to comply with the city building code.  They are not required to be of the same scale as adjacent houses, to be of the same design as adjacent houses, or to be compatible in any way with the neighborhood.  All they have to do is meet the current building code.

This is an issue in many parts of the city as well as in Decatur.  There's currently an effort in Virginia Highland to explore Historic District Overlay Zoning for two subdivisions in the neighborhood.  This has already generated vigorous discussion on the neighborhood email list, with an active opposition group formed that opposes the designation.  Decatur's City Commission recently considered a moratorium on demolitions of single family homes.  They ended up voting against it.  In the Oakhurst neighborhood, the demographics of the neighborhood are changing rapidly.  Commissioner Kecia Cunningham told the Atlanta Journal Constitution, “For me, it’s not about ‘McMansions,’ it’s the loss of racial and economic diversity, the loss of affordable housing."

On our street, the apartments at the corner of Wessyngton and North Highland are being vacated and will be demolished soon.  I don't know what will be built there, other than that I am certain it will be three large expensive homes.  Lynsley found designs on line that a local architecture firm has proposed for the street (see this link and this one).  The two houses are contemporary, "fusing modern luxury with holistic sustainable design."  The architects note that the proposed location for these houses is "one block from some of Atlanta's best shops and restaurants."  What it doesn't say is that Wessyngton Road is still mostly made up of small ranch-style homes built during the 1950s and that these new houses that are proposed don't look anything like most of the houses on the street.  

But not all the houses on our street were built in the 1950s.  There are newer houses, some dating from a few decades ago; one of them has a quite contemporary design and is for sale now.  There also has been demolition of older homes and new construction on the street in the last few years.  Some older homes including ours have been renovated and second floors added.  It's not that small 1950s ranch-style homes are architecturally important and should be preserved; it's that demand for lots for new construction threatens existing neighborhoods by forcing out longtime residents when property values become too high.

And it's not just that.  A neighborhood is a complex adaptive system, and changing one thing can result in major and unanticipated changes in other areas.  Part of what makes Atlanta's intown neighborhoods interesting is that different kinds of people live in them, that everyone is not just alike.  Interesting neighborhoods require housing to be available across the income spectrum.  Already Morningside is not nearly as interesting as Virginia Highland, which is not nearly as interesting as Poncey-Highland, and that is why.  

I love Atlanta's intown neighborhoods, and I'm glad other people do too, but at the moment it feels to me that we are at risk of loving them to death.  The city doesn't require a Social Capital Impact Statement for new development; all there is is the permitting process.  But building codes and even Historic District Overlay Zoning are pretty blunt instruments.  We need additional and sharper instruments if we are going to shape the direction that our neighborhoods take.  Incentives and disincentives are preferable to regulations, if they'll do the job, and if there are things that the market will do without incentives, even better.  (My impression is that many of the new large intown mixed use developments do include a range of housing types; whether that's due to requirements or incentives, I don't know, but I am pretty sure it's not market forces.  Market forces are leading to an increased focus on walkability in commercial areas, according to a recent study, but not to what the authors called "social equity," which included affordable housing and accessibility.)  My guess is that new houses that look like they belong in the neighborhood probably sell for more than houses that don't, and not all the new construction is dreadful.  But the city and county need to use tax policy to help people on fixed incomes be able to stay in their homes when property values are rising.

This is my new favorite house in the neighborhood.  It was on the market in 2011, after its owner moved into assisted living.  A couple bought it, and after that work started out the site.  I assumed it was going to be demolished and replaced with a much larger, new home.  One day after that I saw them standing in the yard, and I asked.  They seemed surprised at the question.  No, they said, they they planned to renovate it.  The work is ongoing, but one of the things they've done already is enlarged the front porch.

I wish our neighbors in Virginia Highland well, as they continue the discussion about the Historic Overlay District Zoning.  But unless everyone in the two subdivisions wants it -- and that seems pretty unlikely -- it will be a tough sell.  So the discussion continues about the kind of neighborhoods we want, and what -- if anything -- we are willing to do to maintain them or improve them.

Losing Control at Cheshire Bridge & Piedmont

Over the years, we have enjoyed watching the ongoing transformation of the building at the intersection of Monroe, Piedmont, and Cheshire Bridge from branch bank to real estate office to tattoo studio to now a tattoo studio and the Anchor Bar.  I've never been there, but according to their Facebook page, yesterday (presumably in honor of breast cancer awareness month) you could get a pink ribbon tattoo for $50.

In yesterday morning's AJC there was an amazing story that pretty much speaks for itself.  Here's an excerpt:

According to an Atlanta police incident report, Rashad Williams, 38, of Lithonia, told arresting officers that he was driving down Cheshire Bridge Road just before 3:30 a.m., attempting to make a left turn, when he lost control of his car.

The 2012 Chrysler 200 careened across a parking lot, jumped a curb and crashed through the glass front of the Walgreens Community Pharmacy near the intersection of Piedmont Avenue and Cheshire Bridge, barely missing a DUI school adjacent to the pharmacy.

   Responding officers found no one inside the Chrysler, which was still sticking out of the building. But the witness who called 911 told police that the driver had walked next door to the Anchor Bar.

   When officers went to the bar, “the driver was sitting at the bar drinking a beer,” according to the incident report. “We then escorted the driver outside after he paid for his tab.”

Fox 5 has photos and video on their website.  When I drove by yesterday the broken window had been replaced with plywood.

I'm glad that he paid his tab before he's arrested.  I don't know if the DUI school will give him a break on tuition or not.

Opening the Streets

Last Sunday was the third Atlanta Street Alive event of this year, on a loop from Highland to Boulevard to Monroe to Virginia Avenue back to North Highland.  The route went from Virginia Higland through Poncey-Highland into Inman Park and the Old Fourth Ward and then back into Virginia Highland.  The Atlanta Bicycle Coalition, sponsor of the event, estimates that 82,300 people took part this time.  I volunteered for the set up shift and was not able to do the entire loop this time, but did walk most of the route either as part of the set up crew or later with Iain.  What was different and wonderful this time was inclusion of a stretch of Boulevard with older apartments that are mostly Section 8 housing.  That's where I was assigned to work, and I got there late because I mis-read the instructions.  (When you are on foot and go to the wrong place, it takes a long time to correct the error.)  But I did finally get to my assigned location at Morgan and Boulevard, and got assigned with another volunteer to check barricades and signage headed north on Boulevard.

We didn't do much -- the police were handling the street closures, which was good because they knew how to do it and we didn't, and would be better at dealing with irate drivers than we would -- but we talked to some residents and moved a few signs.  A man sitting on his porch asked us what was going on, and we told him that the street was being closed to cars and soon would be full of bicycles and pedestrians.  Could he show his artwork in his front yard and sell it, he asked?  Absolutely, we told him, that would be fabulous.  He absolutely should put his work out for display because there would be lots of people coming by.  Unfortunately I didn't make it back to see his work; when Iain arrived, we headed south, and we didn't make it all the way around.  But I hope he was able to sell some work.

We were walking south on Boulevard when the bicycle parade started, heading north past us.  Residents were out on their balconies and porches.  

This family was watching from their second floor balcony.

This is my favorite photo from the day!

Atlanta Medical Center should have been out with blood pressure screenings or something, but they were completely missing.  Around the corner onto Highland (with the experience of many previous Streets Alive events) there was lots of activity, with music, neighbors, and food trucks.

Moving north on Highland through Inman Park and then into Poncey-Highland and Virginia Highland, lots of folks out for the afternoon with their dog or their kids, just enjoying the sights, and more music and corn hole and more places to eat and drink and dance.

We headed toward Monroe on Virginia Avenue, but stopped when we got to the Free Poems on Demand table.  

We had missed getting a free poem at the Streets Alive event in September; we didn't make a full circuit of Woodruff Park and we just didn't find them, so we were especially glad to find them this time.  Iain asked for a poem about the government shutdown, and poet Zac Denton obliged.  

From there we headed home.  On the way back, two young women sitting on the curb drinking beer said "no" when I asked if I could take their picture -- the only people all afternoon who had declined.  But this couple said yes.

Bikes at Virginia and Highland.

The police officer at the north street closure on North Highland, across from Highland Hardware, tossed a football with a child.

Writing this now I am struck by the phrase "closing the street."  The street was only closed from the perspective of drivers.  We were opening the street for people, for pedestrians and bicycles, not closing it.  Walking around the city, seeing the 82,298 other people, getting a bite to eat, and getting a free poem is a fine way to spend a Sunday afternoon.  Ten thousand people showed up September for the lantern parade; now more than 80,000 people show up for an event that's not about music or art, although there was some of both, but is about seeing the city as a pedestrian or a bicyclist, and that is a different way of seeing.  It's a way of seeing where I can ask a young mother on Boulevard if I can take a picture of her baby, and she beams and says yes.  

It is so much better than being in a car.

At the Summerhill Fall Fest

Last Saturday morning I spent a couple of hours working at the Living Walls table at the 2nd Annual Summerhill Fall Fest in the Summerhill neighborhood.  Summerhill is a neighborhood adjacent to Turner Field, south of downtown.  Early settlers in the area were freed slaves and Jewish immigrants.  Leo Frank, convicted of the murder of Mary Phagan in 1913 and lynched in 1915, had spent time in Summerhill.  The opening and closing ceremonies of the 1996 Olympics were there, in the stadium that later was converted to Turner Field.

There's a small commercial area on Georgia Avenue near Turner Field.  Most of the buildings seem to not have been occupied for a long time, although there are seems to be lots of relatively new housing nearby.  It's the sort of area that should have a neighborhood bar and a pizza place and a convenience store that neighborhood kids can walk to.  This is the area where Living Walls worked last summer, putting 10 murals up in August.  They are amazing.

(Better photos than mine are on line, especially for Nanook's mural that I cut off most of the portrait on the left inadvertently - check out posts like this one or the Living Walls website.)

I was there, with several Living Walls staff members, for the first shift, including the beginning of the festival.  It was a slow start, with more festival volunteers on the street than festival attendees.  Jasmine, who handles media for Living Walls, reviewed with us the mission of Living Walls -- Living Walls seeks to activate and engage communities through street art.  That sounds right to me.  And I don't know if the incredible work that Living Walls artists, volunteers, and staff did on Georgia Avenue last summer will help activate the street or not, but we heard that one of the vacant store fronts would re-open soon as a convenience store.  It was clear that developers and homeowners have invested in the neighborhood, and there was a neighborhood group that was organized enough to present the 2nd Annual Summerhill Fall Fest.  So it seems to me it is just a matter of time until something happens on Georgia Avenue.

Jasmine told us about a conversation she had had with someone who ended up donating to Living Walls.  He asked her about overhead costs of the organization.  None, she told him.  He was incredulous and asked her how much Living Walls paid her.  Nothing, she said.  No one gets paid.  They have no office space.  I told her that this response didn't surprise me at all, that from the outside it is hard to believe that all this happens with no deep pockets behind it, no paid staff, just passionate people who really believe in what they do who leverage a small budget into an amazing event.  Living Walls does get really valuable support -- mostly in-kind, as I understand it -- from a number of sponsors, but it's a huge commitment from a small group of unpaid staff that make all this work. 

And as long as we are on the subject of Living Walls' sponsors, I always assumed that Delta Airlines was a sponsor, since every year Living Walls brings international artists to Atlanta for the event, but note their absence from the list of sponsors.  This is their home town, and they should be supporting it.  I think I'll send them a note and tell them that.

Inventing the Future

Friday night Iain and I went to PechaKucha Night at Manuel's Tavern.  PechaKucha Nights, if you don't know, are locally organized events where people make short presentations in a particular style -- 20 slides, 20 seconds each, set on autoadvance so the talk is only 6 minutes and 40 seconds long. (I hear lots of talks at work that could benefit from rules this strict.)  With talks that short, you can fit a lot of them in an evening.  The first PechaKucha event was in Tokyo in 2003, hosted by an architecture firm, but now PechaKucha events are held in more than 600 cities.  It's an all-volunteer effort.  The PechaKucha format works well for art- and design-type presentations (Tom observed that it probably wasn't a good format for, say, a presentation on general relativity) and lots of presenters and participants in PechaKucha are from art, design, and architecture.

It was terrific.  There were presentations by artists and craftspeople who shared their work.  Dessa Lohrey presented her Bench Diary project, where a notebook is left on a bench in a public place for a day with an invitation for people to write something.  Kevin Byrd, an installation artist, shared ideas that didn't quite work out in the evening's funniest presentation.  There was a presentation on making handmade furniture by Kendrick Anderson.  There was a children's book-in-progress about previously unknown pirates from Karla Davis and James Abercrombie and there were murals by Peter Ferrari.  But it wasn't all about art.  There was a presentation on sustainable living by Joel Larsgaard ("What makes us happy are close friends, engaging community, and meaningful work." and "Prioritize doing over getting, people over things.") Jeff Shinabarger and Jen Soong gave back-to-back presentations about local social enterprises that provide jobs for refugees in the Atlanta area. Jeff's group recycles billboards into bags, and Jen's group makes pillows, handbags, and scarves. (I have made note for upcoming holiday shopping, and you should too.) 

A couple things were striking to me about the evening. The back bar at Manuel's Tavern was full of people from a different demographic than Iain and me (we were the youngest and oldest persons there, I think). I talked briefly to one of the organizers; she said that she'd gotten involved because she had stumbled across an earlier PechaKucha event and it had provided a great opportunity for people she knew to find collaborators for projects. The conversations that were going on were intense -- just as focused as a 20 x 20 presentation -- and I expect that there were friendships and projects and collaborations that came out of the evening for many of the attendees.

But that wasn't all. It also reminded me of Susan Booth's incredible talk from the recent colab summit, making the case for why art is so important in the life of city and its citizens. Aisha Bowden from the Atlanta Music Project talked about music can help children develop empathy, and how empathy is something that seems to be lacking in the lives many of us live. Filmmaker Kristin Wright talked about not how great films don't have to tell you everything; they leave part of the story not told, so everyone's experience of the work is a little different, and it makes us work to figure it out. A story in the New York Times last week made the same point, that reading literature (unlike popular fiction or serious nonfiction) makes us perform better at tasks measuring empathy and social perception.

And there was the final point from Aisha Bowden's presentation. The Atlanta Music Project provides music lessons to children from poor families in Atlanta, to help them not only learn to play and love music but to develop grit and persistence, to become the kind of people who -- if, when they grow up, they can't find a job -- "will invent their own job." It's a different world than the one I grew up in; it was college and professional school and it was all pretty secure. That's not the world younger people see now, and they are braver and far more creative than I ever was. They are figuring out ways to make their own future, over beer in the back bar at Manuel's Tavern. I'm glad I got to be there.