University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Differences in the development of citizenship: Residents' motivations and capacities for participating in neighborhood associations in Los Angeles

(USC Thesis Other)

Differences in the development of citizenship: Residents' motivations and capacities for participating in neighborhood associations in Los Angeles

PDF

Download

Open document

Flip pages

Download a page range

Download transcript

Copy asset link

Request this asset

Transcript (if available)

Content DIFFERENCES IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF CITIZENSHIP:
RESIDENTS’ MOTIVATIONS AND CAPACITIES FOR PARTICIPATING IN
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS IN LOS ANGELES
by
Fatma Senol
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(URBAN PLANNING)
December 2004
Copyright 2004 Fatma Senol
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
UMI Number: 3155476
INFORMATION TO USERS
The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy
submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and
photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper
alignment can adversely affect reproduction.
In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript
and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized
copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion.
®
UMI
UMI Microform 3155476
Copyright 2005 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company.
All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against
unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.
ProQuest Information and Learning Company
300 North Zeeb Road
P.O. Box 1346
Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
DEDICATION
I dedicate this study to all neighborhood activists who welcomed me and my
questions for this study, and especially to Lillian Marenco, who keeps her grassroots
activism against all the barriers she faces.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Doing a Ph.D. and completing a dissertation is a lonely and even a “bloody”
process, I was told. That would definitely be the case for me unless I had friends and
mentors around me in this journey. Without the support of a good friend, Yesim
Sungu, I could not finish this study in a timely manner and still with scholarly
enthusiasm and clarity. As our friendship gained a new dimension as a long-distance
study group between Los Angeles and Boston, we did not imagine that this study
group would last just over weekly phone calls for two-and-a half years. Yesim’s
critical questions and well-organized clarity about doing and writing scholarly work
was a tremendous support to my study. And she was always there whenever I felt
lost in this and other journeys of my life. Also, I thank all the participants and
particularly all the neighborhood association members I interviewed. They had me
in their living rooms and even at their dining room tables, and answered my endless
questions with long conversations about how they are improving the quality of life in
their neighborhood. I admire their dedication to community work despite all
difficulties they face.
Many faculty—particularly at the School of Policy, Planning and
Development, (SPPD)—encouraged me as a prospective scholar even before starting
this study. Since my first semester in my doctoral studies, Martin Krieger was
always there with his confidence in my work—even during the times I had doubts
about my choice of research subjects. He taught me that the real scholars are not
geniuses but only hard working people who complete a part of their work on daily
basis. After becoming my dissertation chair, he strongly motivated me to write
clearly and quickly, and was always available to discuss my progress. Greg Hise
iii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
encouraged me to improve my own scholarly approach to subject matters. His
classes and office hours provided me with opportunities to discuss my scholarly
interests and approaches freely, even when I felt I could not elaborate on them well
enough. These discussions later helped me to clarify how the concept of “spatiality”
plays a role in this study. He reminded me of that every dissertation is just “another
brick on the wall,” and thus, his mentoring meant a lot especially during those times
when I lost my sense of direction in my doctoral studies. Although not knowing me
earlier, Jennifer Wolch was very generous for both accepting to be the outside
member in my dissertation committee and especially for providing clear and
constructive feedback on the first draft of this study. The final version of the
conceptual framework of this study owes her consistent critical feedback and
suggestions. I thank all these members of my committee for their input and also for
their efforts to accommodate my tight schedule especially after the first draft.
Besides my committee, other faculty also contributed to my progress as a
scholar, if not to this study directly. Tridib Banerjee guided me as my advisor in my
early years in my doctoral studies. With his sociable manners, he both guided and
motivated me to define my own interest area. For this purpose, he encouraged me to
utilize opportunities, such as the student workshop in Morocco where I was able to
interview a group of Moroccan women about their uses of urban space. Peter
Robertson patiently and flexibly accommodated my questions about organizational
behaviors, and maybe not knowingly, inspired me with ideas about leaders’ styles,
which is a part of Chapter Six now. Also, as the chair of doctoral programs of SPPD
at the time, he supported me and other fellow doctoral students in developing social
and professional networks among us. I feel very fortunate for being able to work
with David Sloane as his teaching assistant. I wish I had earlier opportunities for
iv
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
working and exchanging ideas with him, rather than in my last year at school.
Despite the short duration of our work together, he generously, gracefully and
humorously shared his experiences and knowledge with me about teaching a diverse
group of students and being a scholar in a diverse university. I also thank Richard
Sundeen who trusted my skills and abilities, and thus, recommended me to David
Sloane as the teaching assistant for his class. I am also very glad for meeting Stacy
A. Harwood (an SPPD graduate and now faculty at the University of Illinois at
Campaign-Urbana), who became a friend during various conferences and also
provided me with critical feedback on earlier drafts of some parts of this study.
Faranak Miraftab, at the University of Illinois at Campaign-Urbana, generously gave
her comments on the early draft of Part 2 in Chapter Six. She encouraged me to pay
attention to the critical issues of racism in general. Daphne Spain, from the
University of Virginia, provided valuable insights about gender issues in academia
during our conversations at conferences.
Without the various institutional supports I received, neither my doctoral
studies nor this study would be complete. A full scholarship from the Ministry of
Education of the Turkish Republic supported me to complete my master degree in
urban planning and four years of my doctoral studies in the United States. Upon
completion of my coursework, a study-grant from the German Academic Exchange
Service, (DAAD), assisted me to join in an international 3-month workshop on city
and gender issues in Germany in summer 2000, which helped me in developing a
brief ethnographic study of a group of Turkish immigrant women in Germany and
my scholarly view points of urban space in general. The Association of Collegiate
Schools of Planning (ACSP) provided me with a travel grant to join in the Doctoral
Students Workshop in Chicago in 2002, where I had an opportunity to discuss my
v
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
early fieldwork findings of this study with a group of faculty at the University of
Illinois at Urbana-Campaign and other fellow doctoral students from all over the
United States. In 2002, a Fannie Mae Travel Grant funded my travel to present a
paper—now Part 2 of Chapter Six—at the ACSP Conference in Baltimore. The
Graduate Professional Student Senate of USC and SPPD funded me with grants to
present a paper—now Part 1 of Chapter Six—at the Joint Conference of the ACSP
and AESOP in Belgium in 2003. A travel grant from the Provost’s Office at USC
funded my participation in the Doctoral Students Conference of the Association of
Pacific Rim Universities (APRU) in Mexico in 2003. The paper I presented there
became parts of Chapter Three and Chapter Four. Finally, a research grant from the
Center for Religion and Civic Culture at USC assisted me with this study’s similar
and other research-related expenses. It allowed me to present a paper—now Chapter
Seven—at the Annual Meeting of Urban Affairs in Washington D.C. in 2004. It also
covered all kinds of expenses from the fieldwork and writing stages of this study. I
am grateful to all these institutions for their support.
I am appreciative to SPPD’s center of International Public Policy and
Management (IPPAM) and to SPPD for providing me with a job as a teaching
assistantship in 2003 and 2004. I thank also to “A Community Place” of USC for the
job of Coordinator in 2002. Last but not least, I am grateful to the USC Joint
Educational Project (JEP) for providing me with a supportive work environment for
two years. My job experiences as the Academic Coordinator at JEP certainly
improved my critical thinking and writing for this study. Tammy Anderson, the
Director, and Susan Corban Harris, the Director of Academic Development, were
very understanding, and arranged my work hours flexibly so that I could have
enough time to complete my research and to write up this study. Susan, however,
vi
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
was much more than my supervisor. She was a good friend and a fellow scholar who
generously listened to me talk about my study and life, and shared her knowledge of
completing a dissertation in social sciences. Susan is also the first person who read
the final whole draft of this study and helped me tremendously with editing my
written English. Jeremy, her spouse, too, was involved in this process sometimes. I
also feel so lucky that Susan and Jeremy trusted me to spend time with their baby,
Benjamin, who became a joy of my life. I already miss them.
Without the support of my friends, surviving my doctoral studies would have
been difficult. Besides the friends with multiple roles in my life, such as Yesim and
Susan, my good friends kept me focused on my study as they helped me to enjoy
other sides of life. With HaeRan Shin and Changmii Bae, we shared our
observations about scholarly life or life in general or just sincere laughter over a
meal. I always appreciated HaeRan’s generosity for listening to my stories and
bringing other view points to the table. Emel Ganapati and Sukumar Ganapati acted
mostly as parental figures to me and took care of me whenever I needed that kind of
support. Sukumar helped me with editing the early versions of my dissertation
proposal and he is also an excellent cook of Indian food. I shared a lot of laughter
with Emel, Serna Dogan, and Nicel Yilmaz. As we shared our ideas about so many
things, Serna was always patient with my goofiness, and Nicel guided me to be
practical about my study.
Last but not least, I thank my family for their support and love. For eight
years and despite thousands of miles between us, they patiently kept their support for
my studies abroad. Especially my mom and dad, my sister, and my little nieces—
Esra and Ezgi—were always there waiting for my weekly call at which we were
vii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
ending up mostly comforting each other that everything in our lives is fine. I thank
them all for being there.
viii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION............................................................................................................ ii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS....................................................................................... iii
LIST OF TABLES AND FIGURES........................................................................ xiii
ABSTRACT.............................................................................................................xiv
INTRODUCTION: DIFFERENCES IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF CITIZENSHIP:
Residents’ Motivations and Capacities for Participating in Neighborhood
Associations in Los Angeles........................................................................................ 1
Research Questions...........................................................................................1
Study Arguments and Definitions................................................................... 3
Findings........................................................................................................... 6
Organizations of This Study............................................................................ 9
CHAPTER 1: CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK: Interplays of Citizenship and Urban
Space...........................................................................................................................14
PART 1. RECONCEPTUALIZING CITIZENSHIP............................................... 15
A Relational View of Citizenship...................................................................18
Recognizing Multiple Locales, Scales, and Agencies of Politics.......18
Democracy, Place, and Local Governance: Building Place-based
Communities...................................................................................... 23
An Evaluation: A Need for “Place” Focus in Citizenship Studies....26
PART 2. A “PLACE” FOCUS IN CITIZENSHIP or A CITIZENSHIP FOCUS IN
LOCAL POLITICS?.................................................................................................. 27
Reasons for Collective Activism in Residential Areas.................................. 28
Identity of Political Agents in Places of Residence........................... 29
From Class-based to Territorial and Multi-Identities............ 33
A Variety of Local Groups and Interests ............................... 35
Collective Consumption and the “Work” of Social Reproduction....36
An Evaluation: A Need for Citizenship Focus in Studies of “Place”.39
Resource Mobilization for Voluntary Organizations.................................... 40
Internal or Member-based Resources................................................ 41
External Resources............................................................................ 43
Restructuring Processes and Resour ces for the Voluntary Sector................. 44
PART 3. STUDY APPROACH............................................................................... 46
Restructuring Processes and Local Residents’ Participation in NAs............ 46
Mediation of Uneven Development of Citizenship in Locales..................... 49
ix
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 2: RESEARCH CONTEXT AND METHODOLOGY.......................... 52
PARTI. RESEARCH CONTEXT........................................................................... 52
Study Site....................................................................................................... 53
History of the Area............................................................................ 53
A University in the Neighborhood........................................ 55
Socio-economic Profile of the Area.................................................. 57
An Inner-City Area of the Los Angeles City......................... 59
Organizational Profile of the Area..................................................... 63
Neighborhood Associations (NAs) in My Study Site............ 65
PART 2. RESEARCH METHODOLOGY.............................................................. 69
CHAPTER 3: COMMON MOTIVATIONS FOR PARTICIPATING IN
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS: Identifying Home-Place through Community
Work.......................................................................................................................... 76
PART 1. REPRESENTATIVENESS OF NAs AND THEIR ISSUES..................... 80
Whose Issues?................................................................................................ 81
“Home” and the inclinations for Participating in NAs.................................. 84
Homeownership and Local Activism................................................ 84
Motivations and Perceived Social and Place-based Relations.......... 85
PART 2. COMMUNITY WORK IN HOME-PLACE............................................. 87
What Constitutes Participation in NAs?: Community Work......................... 89
Space for Community Work: Home-place.................................................... 91
Claiming Local Community Space: Identifying and Naming Territories 94
Talking about “South Central” LosAngeles...................................... 96
Identifying Home-Place through Community Work....................................100
CHAPTER 4: DIFFERENCES IN MOTIVATIONS FOR PARTICIPATING IN
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS: Re-identifying Community Problems...... 101
PART 1. DIFFERING GEOGRAPHIES OF NAs WITHIN THE SAME
GEOGRAPHY......................................................................................................... 103
NAs with Gentrifiers and Working Class NAs with People of Color..........103
Social Meanings of Local Histories..................................................106
The Area of the “Golden Era”..............................................107
The Socio-economic and Demographic Shifts in the Area.. 109
PART 2. THREATS TO HOME-PLACE.............................................................. 111
Identifying Threats to Home-place...............................................................112
Extending Home-place and Redefining “Threats”.......................................115
Class, Race, Ethnicity, and Community Issues................................117
Diverse Place-based Interests around Property Relations. ..117
Class and Race as a Determinant of Resources for Community
Involvement..........................................................................119
x
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“Educating” People about Community Issues.....................122
Re-identifying Community Problems..........................................................125
CHAPTER 5: CONFLICTING VISIONS AT HOME-PLACE: Diverse Interests at
Home-Place around Property Relations.................................................................. 127
PART 1. HOMEOWNERS’ ULTIMATE VISIONS FOR HOME-PLACE:
Homeowners as “Good” Neighbors........................................................................ 130
PART 2. RE-ADJUSTED VISIONS AND LOCAL CONFLICTS........................133
Conflicting Interests in the Same Geography...............................................135
“No Student-fication!”: The Neighborhood as a Communal Space.139
The Neighborhood Space for Development Rights of One’s Own
Property.............................................................................................144
Local Conflicts related to Property Relations.............................................. 147
Diverse Interests at Home-Place around Property Relations........................149
CHAPTER 6: NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS’ INTERNAL RESOURCES:
Members and Leaders..............................................................................................150
PART 1. INDIVIDUAL RESORUCES FOR PARTICIPATING IN NAs.............154
From “Who Participates” to “Who Can Participate”....................................156
Gendered Resources for Involving in Community Activism.......................158
Working Class People of Color, especially Women........................159
Gentritlers, especially Married Couples.......................................... 163
Time and Space Flexibility for Community Activism.................................165
Members’ Level of Activism in NAs...........................................................167
Resources Gained through Members’ Involvement in Other
Grassroots Groups........................................................................... 167
Level of Activism and Internal Structure of NAs.............................169
PART 2. LEADERSHIP CAPACITIES AND STYLES....................................... 171
Women Leading... But within Different Contexts.......................................174
Working within the Community.................................................................. 176
How to Run Meetings...................................................................... 178
Being and Training “Liaisons” between the Community and the
System...............................................................................................180
Working within the System..........................................................................183
Strategies to Work within the Transitional Sphere of Community Work... 186
CHAPTER 7: NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS’ EXTERNAL RESOURCES:
The State and the Voluntary Sector.........................................................................190
PART 1. STATE-BASED RESORUCES AVAILABLE TO NAs..........................194
The Question of How “the System” Works......................................195
Working Class NAs and How to Figure Out How the System Works 197
Does the System Work for “the Community Issues”?......................199
“Informally educating violators”......................................... 200
xi
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Working within the System: Activism around Historic Preservation
Issues............................................................................................................ 202
Local Advisory Citizen Boards for the “Beginners”....................... 202
Laws as “the Legitimate Grounds to Fight Back”........................... 203
PART 2. NETWORKS IN THE VOLUNTARY SECTOR AS INCUBATORS FOR
NAs.......................................................................................................................... 206
Urban Development Pressures and Opposing Grassroots Coalitions.......... 207
University in the Neighborhood: “Love-Hate Relations with a
Dragon”............................................................................................ 208
Urban Coalitions Opposed to the Ways Urban Development
Happens........................................................................................... 210
Figueroa Corridor Coalition for Economic Justice.............. 212
West Adams Heritage Association...................................... 213
Coalitions of Historic Preservation in the West Adams District................. 214
Historic Tours as Originating Resources for NAs........................... 215
Organizational Platforms for Sharing Knowledge and Expertise....216
Socio-political Resources for Accesas to Decision-Making: Historic
Preservation Zones........................................................................... 218
Faith-based Organizations and Networks as Incubators for Working Class
NAs.............................................................................................................. 220
Community Organizing through Local Churches............................ 220
Resources Provided by Faith-Based Organizations......................... 223
Which One to Prioritize: Basic Services or Community
Organizing?.......................................................................... 228
Differing External Resources within the Same Geography......................... 229
CHAPTER 8: THE DIVERSITY OF EVERYDAY NEIGHBORHOOD
ACTIVISM: Mediations of Local Citizenship within Political and Economic
Processes.................................................................................................................. 231
Mediating Settings....................................................................................... 232
Reasons and Resources for Activism on Multiple Contextual Scales......... 234
Individual level................................................................................ 235
Spatial level..................................................................................... 238
Organizational level......................................................................... 242
Implications of this Study for the Efforts for Local Governance................ 244
BIBLIOGRAPHY.................................................................................................... 249
xii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
LIST OF TABLES AND FIGURES
Table 1: Total Population and Racial and Ethnic Characteristics............................. 57
Table 2: Employment Status, Occupation, and Income Level.................................. 59
Table 3: Education Level, Foreign-born, and Language at Home........................... 60
Table 4: Households by Type and Housing Occupancy............................................ 60
Table 5: Housing Value, Gross Rent, and Year Structure Built................................ 61
Map 1: Study Site Boundaries with Zones of Census Tracts................................... 67
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
ABSTRACT
This study examines the reasons why neighborhood associations (NAs) in a
single residential area have differing development capacities. These reasons are tied
to residents’ differing motivations for and varying capacities to participate in such
voluntary local associations. Specifically, I ask why residents participate in NAs and
what resources influence their participation. No single body of literature addresses
both the answers to these questions and the socio-spatial processes of NAs’
development in a particular neighborhood. Drawing from an understanding that
analyses of the relationships between citizenship, place, and democracy should
consider how economics and politics are experienced locally, my study tries to
integrate several literatures: mostly feminist, recent social and cultural approaches to
citizenship, political economic approaches to place, and the resource mobilization
literature. I take individuals as the unit of analysis and focus on residents’
perceptions of their reasons and resources for participating in NAs. I argue that the
interplay of individuals’ social and place-based relations influences their perceived
and actual reasons and resources for such involvement.
I find that residents’ perceptions of neighborhood problems - rather than then-
class, gender, race, or property ownership status, per se - lead them to get involved
in NAs. However, the residents’ perceptions are shaped by race, class, and gender
and the ways these relations impact their experiences in neighborhoods and the city.
Second, I find that residents’ experiences in the labor market influence their
perceived and actual resources for participation. Inequities in the labor market,
xiv
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
based on gender, race, ethnicity, and immigrant status, leads to an unequal
distribution of resources, such as free-time and skills for working within institutional
bureaucracies, thereby disadvantaging working class people of color. Third, the
compatibility between NAs’ concerns, and those identified by the voluntary sector
and the state as important, affects NAs’ access to resources. In my study, NAs with
historic preservation concerns have more state- and voluntary sector-based resources
than NAs that focus on municipal housekeeping tasks. The reasons for this relate to
the presence and strength of laws and regulations concerning NA issues, and to the
increasing demand on the voluntary sector for funding social welfare issues.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
INTRODUCTION
DIFFERENCES IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF CITIZENSHIP:
Residents’ Motivations and Capacities for Participating in Neighborhood
Associations in Los Angeles
Research Questions-
This study focuses on the reasons why neighborhood associations (NAs)
located in a single residential area differ in their capacities for development. NAs
are resident-based grassroots groups that provide local residents with the opportunity
for citizen participation in quality-of-life issues and local governance in general.
This study argues that NAs develop unevenly, even within the same residential area,
and this is closely tied to the residents’ differing motivations for and varying
capacities to participate in the associations. Drawing from in-depth interviews with
members of NAs and other local organizations in an inner-city area of Los Angeles
City, this study seeks to reveal the processes driving these differences. It examines
how residents’ standings in social, economic, and political relations influence their
inclinations and capacities for involvement in NAs.
Worldwide economic and political restructuring influences individuals’
relationships to society, the economy, sources of decision-making, and urban locales.
Understanding residents’ involvement in community-based organizations within the
context of these changes is a growing area of research and public policy. NAs are
grassroots mediators between citizens and the state, and help to increase citizen’s
capacities for gaining access to decision-making processes related to local urban
services and goods, and to self-governance. Thus, understanding the processes
leading to the uneven development of NAs is important to improve quality of
1
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
local governance, citizen participation, and citizenship rights and responsibilities.
The following questions are important to this understanding and serve as a guide for
my research: Within the economic and political restructuring processes, first, why
do residents participate in NAs? Second, what resources and barriers influence their
participation?
Two bodies of literature from various disciplines and a set of supplemental
works provide important insights for my study. Social and cultural approaches to
citizenship—mainly, within feminist studies—conceptualize a “relational view” of
citizenship. That is, they emphasize that citizenship relations evolve across multiple
social realms rather than only in the idealized public sphere. Also they recognize
previously ignored locales and scales of politics, the roles of human agency, and
social identity issues as being important to this development. Some of these works
also point out the importance of creating place-based communities for democracy-
building efforts. Yet these studies need further empirical examination especially of
how socio-spatial processes in locales influence residents’ participation in citizenship
issues and how they have differing impacts on local groups.
Political-economic approaches to place provide a range of perspectives on
these questions. They highlight the multiple interests of multiple local groups in
residential areas that prompt residents’ involvement in local activism. Despite these
contributions, these approaches have two primary limitations. First, most of these
examinations develop as comparison of local groups in different residential areas.
The differences within a single neighborhood are an understudied research area.
Second, most of these studies have epistemological limitations—the same limitations
identified by feminist critics of other works—in that they tend to lack a “relational
view” of citizenship in their examinations of residents’ local activism. Mindful of
2
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
these criticisms, my study integrates these two bodies of works in its examination of
the interplay of socio-spatial processes that shape residents’ reasons for becoming
NA members and thus, for seeking citizenship participation.
Both literatures have limitations in discussing residents’ resources for
participating in NAs. Thus, I use a supplemental review of the literature about
resource mobilization in social movements. This body of work typically focuses on
movements or groups by themselves, rather than their differing socio-spatial
contexts. Thus, in examining NAs’ resources in my study area, I integrate this
review with the other two primary literatures. In this sense, my study also provides
an examination of the actual and localized conditions of resource mobilization for
local residents and groups within a neighborhood, which is understudied in all three
literatures.
My study uses these analytical approaches to interpret the ways in which NA
members make sense of their circumstances as a basis for involvement in NAs. In-
depth interviews with NA members within a residential area of Los Angeles City are
the primary source of data in this comparative study of NAs. Rather than an
exhaustive comparison, however, this study focuses on the members’ motivations,
issues and resources that appeared consistently in their interviews. These points also
reveal similarities and differences between the development processes of NAs.
Study Arguments and Definitions
I develop this study with an argument that individuals’ stories of why and
how they become involved in NAs reflect the interplay of their individual-,
neighborhood-, and institutional contexts. Each of these contexts is embedded in
open urban and social systems, which are influenced by broader economic and
political processes that evolve globally but unfold distinctly within locales. The
3
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
unique intersection of these contexts for every individual results in a particular set of
conditions that affects their motivations and capacities for involvement in NAs.
Overall, NA members’ relations across these contexts shape NAs’ differing
development capacity in the same residential area. My study arguments in detail are
as followed:
First, the places of residence—or “neighborhoods,” as they are usually
called—are not isolated islands. They are parts of a larger urban space that is
influenced by broader forces, such as markets, the state, and civil society. They also
have overlapping social, political, and economic meanings for individuals, as well as
organizations and institutions. Such meanings are important for both local and non
local social actors, including NA members. These social actors negotiate these
multiple meanings under the influences of broader economic and political relations.
Second, these meanings of “place” do not differ arbitrarily among local
residents. Residents’ social relations shape their perceived meanings of their places
of residence. I define individuals’ social relations as the complex and concurrent set
of relationships that individuals have to economic, political, and cultural realms, and
are mediated by their social characteristics such as class, race, ethnicity, and gender.
These relations determine individuals’ social standings in society at large and in the
neighborhood and shape their perceptions of their everyday lives. Also, residents’
social relations change and gain new meaning through their daily experiences in
urban space, and particularly in their neighborhoods. These meanings evolve
through individual’s social standings compared to local residents, their identification
with past, present, and future definitions of the community, and their interactions
within the organizational and institutional contexts of the residential area. I refer to
4
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the social relations of individuals that are embedded within the “everydayness” of
the neighborhood as their place-based relations.
Third, the interplay of individuals’ social and place-based relations influences
their ability to gain access to resources for participating in NAs and in the urban
polity in general. Fourth, this interplay influences the ways in which individuals
make sense of their institutional, neighborhood, and individual contexts within webs
of power relations. These perceptions impact their decisions to participate in NAs.
Finally, these interplays uniquely affect residents’ daily experiences in social
institutions and settings, including NAs. Ways in which these social factors intersect
and combine in the lives of individual NA members have a direct impact on NAs by
determining their membership potential and capacity for development.
Based on these arguments, this study examines the development of residents’
citizenship relations through their participation in local NAs. Any organization or
institution interested in the development of civil society and particularly in local
governance needs to respond to, adapt to, or seek to change the social contexts of
citizenship. NAs are embedded within these contexts that determine conditions for
citizen participation. These contexts are also the social, political, and economic
consequences of such citizen participation processes. Thus, involvement in NAs
might change these contexts and open opportunities to improve residents’ capacities
for engaging in urban democracy and local governance. Yet these opportunities are
easily lost if policy makers lump together the residents of a specific residential area,
perceiving them as a unified whole with a similar set of social, economic, and
political relations. Not taking into account the varying and mediating roles of
individual, neighborhood, and institutional contexts for the residents of a community
risks the loss of these opportunities. The findings of this study highlight how the
5
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
interwoven relations within these multiple contexts shape residents’ inclinations and
capacities for involvement in NAs in different ways.
Findings
Drawing from these arguments, my overall findings suggest that the uneven
development of NAs in a single residential area evolves due to uneven resources
among NAs. This unevenness of resources results from the geographic
concentration of residents with socio-economic characteristics that differ from those
of the majority of residents in the neighborhood. The relatively greater resources of
this group offer them better access to local historic homes and the ability to market
their unique concerns widely. Detailed findings regarding residents’ motivations and
resources for participating in NAs are as follows:
First, residents’ perceptions of problems in the community motivate them to
become involved in NAs, rather than their social status, for instance, as a homeowner
or a mother. These are the issues that threaten their ideal visions of the social and
spatial conditions of their place of residence. Second, there are commonalities and
differences in the motivations of NA members. Contrary to presumptions that NAs’
issues are “too local” and only in the self-interest of members, all NA members share
a sense of their activism as non-discretionary work in their “home” surroundings,
which might extend to broader spatial, economic, and political relations. This sense
of activism considers some social and economic issues facing the majority of local
residents to be concern of NAs, and links these issues to conditions created by the
dominant power relations at broader urban scales. NA members integrate these
socio-economic problems into their NA agendas under the concept of “citizenship
education,” but identify different sources of these problems. Corresponding to
6
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
their particular set of social and place-based relations, one group of NA members
identifies class issues as central, whereas another group focuses on race as the
driving force behind neighborhood problems. Moreover, based on their property
relations, NA members have different visions for and conflicts about the most
effective ways to develop their neighborhood, socially and spatially.
Members’ actual resources, along with their perceptions of the resources they
have to contribute to local activism, are factors that motivate their participation in
NAs. In my study area, working class people of color have fewer actual and
perceived resources than do middle class people of all races and ethnicities. Several
important factors are at play in the development of these resources. First, class still
matters and the labor market, which is highly segregated by gender, race, ethnicity,
and immigrant status, fundamentally structures social class lines. In this market,
working class people of color, especially women, occupy a large percentage of the
less stable and low paying service jobs. Thus, their resources for participating in
NAs, like time and money, are more limited and less regular than those working in
managerial and professional jobs.
Second, members’ status in labor market and level of formal education
influence their NAs’ access to state-based resources. For working class NAs with
people of color—especially first generation immigrants—bureaucratic languages and
procedures pose barriers to gaining access to these resources. Also, the presence and
strength of laws and regulations supporting NAs’ issues mediate their access to these
and other resources that impact quality of life issues in their residential area. In my
study area, historic preservation issues in particular provide access to such kinds of
resources. But these issues are of concern to only certain groups of NAs.
7
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Third, NAs’ collaborations with other grassroots organizations and
institutions might increase their resources, but only if these organizations focus
primarily on NAs’ issues and have enough resources to allocate for community
organizing around these issues. In my study area, budget cuts for welfare services
impacted many of the local organizations that focus on the social welfare of
residents. In the past, these organizations supported the development of working
class NAs. Today they allocate their staff-based and financial resources solely for
the provision of social services to an increasing number of beneficiaries, and have
cut back resources for community organizing, including NA activities. Moreover,
most community and economic development organizations in my study area
marginalize NAs’ issues for being “too middle class-focused,” or “too local,” and
provide knowledge-based resources only if working class NAs work within these
organizations’ agendas. However, collaborations with organizations that focus on
the same issues within the same geographic areas have allowed certain NAs to
develop rich resources. In my study area, this has been the case only for NAs
focused on historic preservation issues in a specific geographic area.
The findings of this study are important for understanding the processes that
lead residents to participate in voluntary organizations and as citizens in general.
This understanding will help to improve ways sustaining residents’ involvement in
NAs. This is important for community builders in both the voluntary and public
sectors. As the idea of local governance has become a reality through the formation
of neighborhood councils in some cities, including Los Angeles, the importance of
local community-based organizations, such as NAs, for local governance is more
visible than it used to be. They are the very local grounds for citizen participation.
Along with some utopian hopes, however, policy makers can easily take the presence
8
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
and capacity of these NAs for granted. This study highlights the conditions for the
uneven development of NAs within a single residential area. For policy makers, this
unevenness within the same residential area carries questions of democratic
representation, capacity, and discourses of local grassroots groups in participating in
local governance. A policy framework that addresses these questions should be able
to incorporate differences in the everyday struggles of residents in the same
neighborhood. This requires public policies to acknowledge that individuals’
motivations and capacities for citizenship participation derive from their experiences
within and across multiple social realms. This suggests that in order to motivate
residents and improve their capacity for citizenship participation, policies need to
deal with their problems in the realms of the labor market, the welfare state, and
family care.
Organization of this Study
This study analyzes how local residents’ social and place-based relations
influence their inclinations and capacity for involvement in local NAs and thus, lead
to uneven development of NAs within a single residential area. Chapter One situates
this study in the literature from various disciplines, drawing from discussions about
new notions of citizenship and political agency, the relationships between
democracy, place, and community, the reasons for local community activism in
residential areas, and resource mobilization for local organizations. It also describes
the primary approach for the study.
Chapter Two provides a brief overview of my study area by highlighting its
historical development, socio-economic characteristics, and the urban development
pressures facing the area. It also relates these to the demographic, socio-economic,
and organizational development issues in Los Angeles City. In general, my study
9
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
area is a low-income inner-city residential area comprised of different racial and
ethnic groups, with a private university that is also the largest private employer in the
City, and with a high concentration of designated historic homes and preservation
zones. Chapter Two also locates the NAs within my study area and describes the
methodology I used to research these NAs’ development.
Chapters Three, Four and Five examine NA members’ reasons for
participating in NAs. Chapter Three focuses on the commonalities of these reasons
among all NA members. Overall, rather than any specific socio-economic
characteristics they have, residents’ perceived neighborhood issues drive them to join
NAs. These are the perceived threats to the values that residents attach to their home
and its surroundings. All NA members explain their involvement in NAs as a
necessity in their “home-place,” which appears as a socially and spatially flexible
space that includes economic and social relations at scales larger than the street or
residential block. With this sense of activism, NA members relate some local social
and economic issues to “outside” representations of their neighborhood and larger
urban area, and identify these (mostly negative) representations as part of NAs’
concerns.
Chapter Four examines how differences in NA members’ social and place-
based relations impact their motivations for involvement. Focusing on members’
socio-economic characteristics, the kinds of local houses they own, their
identification with local histories, and their primary issues or concerns, I identify two
groups of NAs: NAs with working class people of color, and NAs with middle-class
people of different races and ethnicities (or “gentrifiers,” as I call them). These two
groups have different initial motivations for involvement that relate to their distinct
ways of identifying issues and the availability of personal resources for involving in
10
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
NAs. The differences at later stages of their involvement are based on their distinct
understandings of reasons for their place-based problems. As the driving force
behind neighborhood problems, gentrifier-members identify class issues, and
members of working class NAs focus on race issues. This difference is evident as
well in the ways each group focuses on “citizenship education” as part of their NA’s
agenda. Gentrifiers emphasize the teaching of citizenship responsibilities, while
working class NAs focus on educating residents about their rights and teaching skills
to work within bureaucratic institutions, especially the state.
Chapter Five approaches the differences in NA members’ social and place-
based relations from another perspective. It examines how members’ differing local
property relations influence their local interests and visions for their neighborhood,
and motivate them to remain NA members, especially in the face of new urban
development pressures. Focusing on a section in my study area where student-
tenants have replaced family-tenants and become NA members’ neighbors, this
chapter describes how members relate to these demographic and economic shifts. In
particular, members who are homeowner-occupant of a single property envision their
neighborhood as a communal space, while members who own their home as well as
local rental properties emphasize their rights to develop property. While these re
adjusted visions motivate them to work as NA members, conflicts between the two
groups emerge along with their new collaborations with other local organizations.
Chapters Six and Seven examine the various kinds of resources available to
NAs in my study area. Still focusing on NAs with gentrifiers and working class
NAs, these chapters discuss why and how resources differ between these two groups,
even though they share the same residential area. Chapter Six describe NAs’ internal
resources derived from NA members and leaders. Looking at members’ paid-job
11
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
and family care roles and responsibilities, it suggests that NAs with gentrifiers have
more resources than the working class NAs when it comes to “flexible” time—one of
the key factors related to participation in NAs. Overall, it argues that hierarchies in
the labor market based on race, ethnicity, immigration status, nationality, and gender,
impact members’ temporal resources for participating in NAs. Also I link the
distinct leadership performances within these two groups of NAs to their differing
resources. All developed as charismatic leaders, NA leaders differ in their
approaches to working with members and local community and in their notions of
“citizenship education,” described above and in Chapter Four. Working class leaders
use strategies to sustain membership participation, while gentrifier-leaders aim
mostly to get tangible results. In working within the bureaucracy of the state
apparatus, most working class leaders have fewer and more limited contacts with
state agencies and fewer state-based resources than the gentrifier leaders do. The
latter are more resourceful in this sense, mostly because of their formal education
and of the skills they develop through their managerial or professional jobs.
Chapter Seven describes how the external resources of NAs originate from
the state and the voluntary sector. Laws and regulations as state-based resources
provide with legitimate and resourceful tools for historic preservation issues which
the NAs with gentrifiers primarily focus on, but not for issues of street safety,
property maintenance, and other municipal housekeeping tasks of the working class
NAs in my study area. The latter depends on the residents’ own ability to keep
social control in their area. Two organizational networks are also important for the
NAs. Each emerged in response to urban development issues in my study area and
downtown. Working class NAs work with local members of a coalition that focuses
on economic and community development in South Central LA and the city at large.
12
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
However, this coalition has limited resources to share with the working NAs and/or
considers NAs’ issues to be secondary to the coalition’s organizational goals. In
contrast, a coalition of historic preservation organizations focuses on a relatively
smaller urban area and provides a resource-rich context for NAs with gentrifiers.
Chapter Eight is the concluding chapter. It returns to the initial research
questions and interprets the findings of each chapter. It discusses how members’
everyday experiences within social institutions and settings mediate broader
economic and political processes and that impacts their motivations and capacities
for participating in NAs. This chapter also describes the implications of this study
for the efforts to initiate local opportunities for local governance.
13
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 1
CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK:
Interplays of Citizenship and Urban Space
Neighborhood associations (NAs) are resident-based local grassroots
organizations. These groups might be in the form of block clubs, neighborhood
watch groups, recognized as non-profits, or all above. Residents get involved in
such local associations to gain access collectively to decision-makings related to the
present and future conditions of their place of residence. They also aim to have
resources to maintain or improve quality of residential life of their neighborhood.
Residents’ involvement in these associations is a form of political participation at
which they seek redefining local residents’ responsibilities and rights as community
members, relationships between the state and residents, and other aspects of
collective life in locales. Interwoven with other relations of urban politics, this kind
of grassroots activism considers all these relations in respect to association members’
perception of actual and desired quality of life in their place of residence.
This study argues that residents’ involvement in local community-based
groups is a way of struggle around place-based issues for inclusion in idealized
notions of full citizenship. Resident involvement in NAs is a form of citizen
participation in local governance and in civil society in general. This chapter
highlights theoretical and empirical works on residents’ involvement in such local
groups and discussions of citizenship in reference to recent urban experiences in
general. An understanding drawn from the main points of these discussions will
provide a base to examine residents’ motivations and capacities for participating in
NAs. Part One of this chapter details the recent discussions on citizenship.
14
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Mostly drawn from feminist criticisms, this part highlights tensions between
universalistic notion of citizenship rights, responsibilities, and citizenship identity,
and the actual experiences of these notions in real life. The new studies provide
important insights about locales and scales of politics, their interconnectedness in
formation of everyday experiences, identity of citizen in general, and relationships
between community, citizenship and place. Yet most of them lack an examination of
citizenship in socio-spatial context of actual collective life and how socio-spatial
processes in different locales influence individuals’ efforts around citizenship issues.
Part Two examines how urban studies with political economic approaches consider
socio-spatial context of residents in explaining their motivations and capacities for
involvement in local community-based groups. Interestingly, these studies have
analytical and epistemological problems that feminist approaches to citizenship raise
that I detail in the previous section. Also the examination of residents’ capacities for
involvement is relatively weak in these bodies of literature. Thus, the second section
of Part Two summarizes some basic features of resource mobilization for such local
groups. Drawn from these reviews, Part Three summarizes the main points of this
study’s approach to its research questions.
PART 1. RECONCEPTUALIZING CITIZENSHIP
Revived interest in citizenship issues, community-based organizations, and
other kinds of grassroots organizing efforts corresponded to the rise and restructuring
of nation-states in Eastern and Central Europe and the former Soviet Union, and to
new social movements in countries with already established democracies.1 Some
1 Some o f the literature in urban studies suggests that the community-based groups today are an
extension o f the local activism in American and European cities that emerged in the 1960s (Fisher 1984; Hasson
and Ley 1994; Fainstein and Hirst 1995). A central feature o f this argument is that the evolution o f the welfare
state plays a pivotal role in the evolution o f these activist groups through time and across space (Wolch 1990;
Hasson and Ley 1997).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
refer to these new movements all over the world as “the public’s return to active
political life” (Hasson and Ley1994) or the “return of the citizen” (Kymlicka and
Norman 1994). Local residents join in urban protests or form community-based
organizations to demand involvement in the decision-making processes that
determine policies concerning land use regulations, public services and amenities,
environment and health, and work and education opportunities. In addition, local
groups resist changes in their urban environment, such as those created by new
freeways, schools, health clinics, homeless shelters, and shopping centers (Dear and
Long 1978; Ley and Mercer 1980).
New social movements and grassroots groups are not solely class-based
anymore. Feminist, green, peace, gay, ethnic, civil rights, nationalist, and other
social movements are actively involved in shaping urban life and space. Some
studies conceptualize these grassroots efforts—such as poor, working class, and
women’s “rights to the city” (Lefebvre 1996), and gay, ethnic and racial minorities’
“rights to difference” (Holston 1996)—as struggles to extend citizenship and citizen
rights to new social bases. Although these groups vary widely in terms of class,
social status, organizational affiliations, access to power, issues, and strategies of
action, some suggest that they lay the foundation for a just city where quality of life
issues, the preservation of cultural and local identities, and community participation
in decision-making are taken seriously (Castell 1983). They emerge especially in
opposition to corporate domination in urban politics (Fainstein and Fainstein 1993).
For groups which are traditionally excluded from full citizenship rights, these
efforts are also ways of gaining access to participatory democracy (Holston 1996).
They are important for the “revival” of urban politics and the decentering of power,
especially given recent trends towards state devolution and local governance in the
16
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
restructuring of the state. Participation in local governance through voluntary
organizations might create better opportunities for residents to participate in
decision-making (Goldsmith 1980; Chaskin and Garg 1997), despite some concerns
that the voluntary sector, as the “shadow state” (Wolch 1989), is losing its power as a
means for oppositional politics (Mayo and Craig 1994).
The rise of local activism is also related to increasing social problems that
result from global economic restructuring processes and governments’ retreat from
social welfare programs. In general, the results of economic restructuring, such as
declining productivity and output in domestic manufacturing sectors and low rates of
capital investments, have resulted in problems in other aspects of economic and
social life. While capital moved from domestic locations to abroad in search of
cheap labor, many people in industrialized countries lost their jobs. Also new
service jobs, which tend to have lower pay and less stability, emerged. Inflation, low
gross national product growth, along with high unemployment rates, poverty and
other social problems, increased the demands on public resources. These economic
restructuring processes fueled discussions about state retrenchment and its role in
economic growth. Policy makers blamed increasing public expenditures on negative
changes in the market. Along with changes in political culture—namely a shift to
the Right in western countries—all these factors have led to cuts in social spending
(despite the increasing and changing social welfare needs of the population [Wolch
1990]), and to the devolution of the welfare state to local governing bodies (Chaskin
and Garg 1997).
With reference to these changes or not, recent theoretical and empirical
works attempt to reconceptualize notions of citizenship. The following section
17
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
summarizes these discussions, mostly by feminist and communitarian approaches to
citizenship.
A Relational View of Citizenship
“Citizenship” has many meanings. It can refer to membership within a
community (which is itself a contested concept), to relationships between individuals
and the state, to relationships between individuals within a community, and to
various aspects of collective national life (Lister 1997a). Here community usually
refers to the nation-state. In the historical traditions of liberalism and civic
republicanism, citizenship generally refers to the rights and responsibilities endowed
by citizenship status. Yet the traditional liberal view pays little attention to the
context of citizenship. This view takes individuals’ needs and capacities as
“independent of any immediate social or political conditions” (Dietz 1987:2). Based
on an ahistorical and contractual notion of citizenship, it argues that individuals have
equal rights and equal access to political power. It does not take into account
economic and social conditions and, thus, the actual circumstances of individual
citizens (Ackelsberg 1988; Young 1990). Communitarian theories (see Dietz 1987)
and studies that focus on the broader social and cultural dimensions of citizenship—
including feminist approaches—challenge this view. The former stresses the
collective nature of citizenship. I discuss this view later in relation to citizenship
responsibilities. The latter argues for a relational view of citizenship especially in
respect to citizenship rights, as detailed below.
Recognizing Multiple Locales. Scales, and Agencies of Politics
Studies with social and cultural focus on citizenship identify a relational view
of citizenship both normatively (S. Smith 1989; Marston 1990; Shklar 1991;
18
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Pateman 1989; Lister 1997a) and empirically (Conover et al. 1991; Verba 1990;
Staeheli 1994; McEwan 2000), despite some contrasting notions of “community”
(see Young 1989). This relational view emphasizes that citizenship evolves through
the interplay of multiple social realms, rather than in “the” separated and ideal
“public sphere,” as argued by the liberal notion of citizenship. Social, economic, and
political structures reproduce differential abilities of individuals to exercise their
rights and responsibilities as citizens. Also overlapping systems of oppression based
on race, gender, class, and other identities, create barriers to inclusion in citizenship.
These barriers are so severe that some individuals’ standing as citizens is
questionable. Ultimately this relational view of citizenship argues for extending
analyses of citizenship beyond legal issues to consider economic and social issues as
well.
The major contributions of these works with regard to my study are their
reconceptualizations of locale and scale of politics, their analyses of social agency
and identity issues, and their emphasis on the interconnectedness of all social realms
and scales in shaping actual citizenship experiences. These provide important
insights into the relationship between neighborhood activism and broader political
and economic processes. An important key to these reconceptualizations is also
another important contribution. It is their challenge to the narrow conception of
“political” in social-liberal notions of citizenship. This concept is based on the
ideological separation of public and private spheres. It assigns all political actions
only to public sphere. This sphere has already-assigned public forums and arenas
and usually relates to the state. It is also the sphere of politics and justice, where
everyone has equal treatment, and it is the only sphere where the public personas of
citizens develop. The private sphere, which is the sphere of the family, provides the
19
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
realm in which citizens may act upon their personal ideas and sense of morality
(Pateman 1989; Elstain 1982; Hill Collins 1990; Fraser 1992; Staeheli 1996). Yet
empirical studies show that women, who traditionally are confined to the private
sphere, and other socio-economic groups, which traditionally are excluded from the
public sphere, have been second-class citizens—despite characterizations of the
public sphere as just and fair (Stack 1974; Bookman and Morgen et al. 1980; Susser
1982; Ryan 1992; Naples et al.1998).
Pointing out these excluded groups’ actions, such as community organizing
and volunteering in “private spheres,” these and other studies underline the
significance of citizenship struggles that take place outside the arenas of the state and
electoral politics. A range of settings such as households, neighborhoods,
communities, workplaces, and social organizations appear as the arenas where
marginalized social groups act to modify the power relationships that exclude them
from the ideals of ftill citizenship. Moreover, such actions shows that the negotiation
of citizenship takes place not only on a “grand” scale, but on a small scale—
particularly in “private” or “informal” spheres—that conventional studies have
ignored as potential arenas for political action. Struggles for citizenship rights are
not limited to large, organized social movements, to the state and the constitution, or
to the workplace. Homes and communities are also places where individuals contest
citizenship rights (Ryan 1992; Pardo 1998; Naples et al. 1998; Gilbert 2000;
Flanagan 2003). In fact, in some cases, these struggles might be more effective than
state policies that aim to transform the social order, for instance, gender relations
(McEwan 2000).
Yet most of these empirical works focus only on small-scale struggles and,
thus, risk reasserting the dichotomy of public and private spheres. A few others
20
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
point out how locales and scales of politics evolve in multiple realms and in relation
to each other (Bookman and Morgen 1980; Milroy and Wismer 1994; Staeheli and
Cope 1994; Hondagneu-Sotelo 1994; 2001). They demonstrate how daily roles and
responsibilities of individuals take place within particular social, political, and
economic realms that are class-based, gendered and racialized, and experiences
within each realm impact others in other realms. Based on this argument of
interconnectedness of social realms and scales, theoretical works focus mostly on
how citizenship rights evolve dynamically with respect to individuals’ roles,
responsibilities and social standings in power relations of different realms (Lister
1997b; Shklar 1991; Staeheli and Cope 1994; Fraser and Gordon 1992). They focus
primarily on social rights. Like most non-feminist approaches, they typically start
their discussions by referring to Marshall’s (1964) historical work on citizenship.
Marshall (1964) identifies three sets of citizenship rights—civil, political, and social.
Civil or legal rights emphasize the basis for individual freedom, including property
rights, personal liberty, and full and equal justice before the law. Political rights
focus on the rights to vote and hold elective office and are connected to the
achievement of civil rights. Social rights provide economic security for citizens and
enable individuals to participate fully in social life through public education, health
care, and old-age pensions2.
Both feminist and non-feminist works criticize Marshall’s exclusive focus on
class relations and his lack of attention to other power relations, such as those based
2 Within the context o f Britain between the eighteenth and twentieth centuries, Marshall suggested that
each o f these sets o f rights historically evolved through popular struggles and built upon one other. Civil and
legal rights in Britain emerged during the eighteenth century while political rights— along with the trade union
and labor movements— developed in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Social rights, as the third set o f
citizenship rights, evolved in the twentieth century when social democratic reforms o f the welfare state promised
to provide economic security for citizens and enable individuals to participate fully in social life “according to the
standards prevailing in the society” (Marshall 1964). The intent o f social rights has been mostly redistributive to
smooth the inequalities created by the free market (Marston and Staeheli 1994).
21
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
on gender, race and other identities (Held 1989; Shklar 1991; Marston 1990; Fraser
and Gordon 1992). Others argue that basing social rights upon civil rights is
problematic. This suggests, as has been the case in the US, a social contract that
establishes social welfare as something one earns, rather than a fundamental right
(Fraser and Gordon 1992). Some works suggest that the denial of citizenship rights
in the US, for instance, is based on social constructions of economic dependence
rooted in gender and race. This argument conceptualizes US citizenship in terms of
public standing, which equates to having the vote and the opportunity to earn a living
(Shklar 1991). However, other studies, especially those drawing from Third World
feminist approaches, caution against reinforcing the assumption that waged work is a
necessary condition for citizenship and its related rights and dignity (Narayan 1997).
These approaches recognize unwaged work, or domestic labor and the care of
dependants predominantly performed by women, as an important part of citizenship
notion (McEwan 2000).
Finally, a focus on marginalized groups—that is, those who are traditionally
excluded from the formal public sphere and confined to the private sphere, such as
women, immigrants and other socio-economic groups—as active citizens and
political agents demonstrates how social realms interweave in individuals’ everyday
experiences. This focus challenges the liberal notion of community, which
“presumes subjects can understand one another as they understand themselves. It,
thus, denies the difference between subjects” (Young 1990: 302). One of the basic
premises of the liberal perspective is that the public sphere is equally open and
accessible to all members of a polity. Consequently the citizen is idealized with
her/his persona reduced to the basic cognitive competencies and civic impulses that
all citizens universally share. These newer empirical studies argue that women and
22
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
men experience these realms not as individuals but as members of households and of
the communities in which these households are embedded. Also they suggest that
individuals’ social locations and responsibilities across social spheres, such as the
workplaces and domestic realm, affect their standing in each sphere as social agents
(Bookman and Morgen 1980; Ackelberg 1980; Milroy and Wismer 1994; Staeheli
1996). In other words, contrary to definitions of the citizen in liberal traditions,
individuals are not stripped of their social characteristics.
Democracy, Place, and Local Governance: Building Place-based Communities
The responsibilities of citizenship have been an important part of recent
debates, especially in relation to the restructuring of the state and democracy. Along
with criticisms of large welfare states and bureaucracies, notions of “active
citizenship” (Kearns 1992), “local governance” (founded upon increased voluntary
practices by the citizenry), and of building place-based communities have been
important since the early 1980s. In the US, conservative criticisms of the welfare
state have led to reforms that reconfigure access to welfare by requiring citizen
claimants to fulfill certain responsibilities. A conservative emphasis on the
obligations of traditionally disadvantaged populations has emerged with an argument
that “federal programs (...) award their benefits essentially as entitlements, expecting
nothing from the beneficiaries in return” (Mead 1986:2).
Communitarian theorists stress the importance of citizenship responsibilities
in relation to rights, although based on different arguments (Mansbridge 1983;
Barber 1984; Taylor 1985; Walzer 1983). They see democracy in trouble and argue
that its revival depends on citizens taking responsibility for developing values of
caring and community. Some of these studies associate increasing anxiety, fear, or
anger in modem, western societies to the search for a sense of community and
23
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
common purpose (Taylor 1985). The groups they focus on are not, however,
necessarily disadvantaged groups but rather middle-class citizens who have time and
other resources to shape the communities in which they live in. These discussions
emphasize the need for group cohesion and a sense of obligation among individuals
in relationships, families, and communities. Here, community appears to be the
context or even the institution in which responsibilities are fostered and rights are
protected through a sense of mutual interdependence and reciprocal obligations.
In these discussions, community building is important for social and
democratic purposes. Drawing on the idea of the empowerment of citizenry in
localities, communitarians argue for the shift of decision-making and political
control from the state to civil society, and from the federal government to individuals
and local communities specifically. A renewed emphasis on place-based
communities, rather than solely communities of affiliations as interest groups, is an
important basis for revitalizing democracy and citizenship (Kemmis 1995). Here,
the notion of place-based community-building points out that location can be a tool
for helping citizens to develop common interests. Despite differing views about
what constitutes public goods, this argument claims that individuals within the same
locale might understand that they have a common stake in a place and be more likely
to seek collective solutions to their problems. In these communitarian views,
voluntarism is an important way to encourage cooperation among individuals in a
community and to build daily practices around common sense of place and
community (Etzioni 1993; Kemmis 1995).
These notions of local voluntarism, citizen or community participation, and
“place as a tool to develop common interests” point out the need for the development
of local governance for fostering citizenship rights and responsibilities. The
24
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
discussions of local governance focus on neighborhoods and local community-based
organizations for two primary reasons. The first relates to the notion of democracy
being based on citizens’ capacity to self-govem. Voting or running for political
office contributes to the intellectual and moral growth of citizens (Dahl 1989;
Mansbridge 1980). Yet scale impacts the quality of democracy. Voting is relatively
a weak form of participation since it provides little opportunity for participants to
add to the decision-making process. People’s involvement in voluntary
organizations, especially at the neighborhood level, is more useful because of the
immediacy of the local community in people’s lives. Thus, the argument is that
participation at the local level provides more generative and meaningful citizen
participation than activity at the level of the nation-state (Boyte 1980; Verba and Nie
1972; Turner 1990; Young 1990; Berry et al. 1993).
Besides its ethical and moral imperative, this argument has a pragmatic
nature as well. It stresses that local communities know their members’ needs better
than government bureaucrats and politicians at the federal level3 (Etzioni 1993).
Concerns, needs, and priorities of the affected individuals and families should inform
the design and implementation of fair and effective policies and programs. These
discussions of participatory democracy approach local associations as a vehicle for
devolving selected public authority. From this perspective, the neighborhood
appears as the primary context for family life and many informal relationships and
activities. Thus, the neighborhood is a mediating institution that operates between
individuals and the structures and institutions of the larger society (Berger and
Neuhaus 1977, quoted in Chaskin and Garg 1997). Also, local communities and
neighborhoods in this rationale are the place for the provision of many goods and
3 These political discourses underline the formation o f citizenship within civil society at the local level.
This contrasts with previous attempts to build community on a larger scale, such as the nation-state.
25
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
services. Thus, they are the unit of action for service coordination and as collective
consumption units, rather than purely sociological units where social interactions
emerge. It is the locus for the implementation of programs and funding streams
(Chaskin 1994).
An Evaluation: A Need for “Place” Focus in Citizenship Studies
These current discussions about citizenship emphasize that conceptual and
actual terms of citizenship are changing and being restructured around a
“reimagining” of rights, roles, and responsibilities (Marston and Staeheli 1994).
Whereas these notions interweave with each other, citizenship status evolves actively
in relationships among individuals, social groups, the state, and civil society. Citizen
participation in multiple arenas (such as involvement in voluntary organizations)
appears as a way to alter the web of power relations in which individuals and social
groups reside. These active notions of citizenship bring into question liberal notions
of the scales and spaces of citizenship. In general, these new notions extend locales
and scales of politics beyond the public sphere and formal employment into
neighborhoods, communities, and even homes. Also within this reconceptualization,
those who were traditionally excluded from the public sphere appear as political
agents who act to change their life conditions and social standings, and to participate
in local governance. These debates also point out importance of everyday struggles
and involvement at the local scale in order to challenge the remoteness of formal
politics and to construct alternative forms of governance.
However, many of the studies within these approaches are still theoretical
and normative. Mostly because of their lack of empirical bases, their understanding
of citizenship does not consider how economic and political trends unfold differently
in different locales. Like a few empirical studies demonstrate and theoretical
26
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
studies argue, the restructuring of citizenship is contingent upon the daily popular
struggles and challenges to existing power relations that develop differently
depending on the locale (S. Smith 1989; Marston and Staeheli 1994; Staeheli and
Thompson 1997; Staeheli 1997; Kearns 2000). This suggests the need for more
consideration of these struggles’ geographical and social dimensions. Thus, the
examination of the varied and contested nature of citizenship through daily
experiences needs a “place focus.” A few empirical studies try to fill this need with
their focus on the interplay of place- and social identity-based issues, mostly at the
local scale.
PART 2. A “PLACE” FOCUS IN CITIZENSHIP or A CITIZENSHIP FOCUS IN
LOCAL POLITICS?
Interestingly, while studies about citizenship need a “place focus,”
conventional urban studies need a “citizenship focus,” particularly in their
examinations of collective activism in urban space. This focus would require them
to reconceptualize issues of diversity and social identity at neighborhood level, and
to recognize interconnections of these differences with broader social processes that
unfold distinctly in every locale.
The first part of this section demonstrates that conventional political
economic approaches to neighborhood politics have epistemological and analytical
limitations similar to those that I summarized earlier with the help of feminist
approaches to citizenship. These approaches have limited understandings of
significance of locale and the scale of urban politics, of identity and political agency,
and of the reasons for getting involved in politics. A few studies that draw from
newer political economic approaches to understanding neighborhood politics point
27
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
out these limitations too. I discuss these limitations further with the help of these
studies.
The second part of this section focuses on the resources available to local
activists and resource mobilization for voluntary associations. Whereas discussions
about the reasons for local activism make up a large part of this body of work,
discussions about resources are implicit or absent. Examples of the latter include
explanations about the socio-spatial context of place at the city or regional level and
its relationship to broader political and economic processes, or descriptions of the
socio-economic identification of activists. Referring to these works from time to
time, the second part of this section focuses mostly on the literature about resource
mobilization within different approaches.
Reasons for Collective Activism in Residential Areas
Shared interests and values are essential for local residents to engage in local
associations, local governance, or other local collective projects. The socio-spatial
structures of their places of residence, or neighborhoods, play an important part in
local residents developing such interests and values. In political economic
approaches to urban space, identifying the socio-spatial contexts of neighborhood
activism usually has two related place-based dimensions. One is the neighborhood’s
meanings, roles, and relations within broader social, economic, and political
structures. The other is the meanings of these roles and relations for local residents,
as well as locals’ relationships with each other and with “outsiders,” or non-locals.
To understand whether residents develop interests and values in their
neighborhood that are strong enough to make them to participate in local
associations, studies examine residents’ “sense of place” or “sense of community.”
Whereas the presence, strength, and absence of a sense of place appear as points
28
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
of analysis, ways of examining these notions may differ along with shifting
emphases on the place-dimensions I just mentioned. In political economic
approaches to “a sense of place and community,” the notion of place appears to have
multiple meanings and scales (Agnew 1993), whereas the majority of works do not
focus on all these meanings simultaneously. First, places are locales in which
broader economic, political, and social structures unfold. Second, they are the
settings in which a particular mix of household types and socio-economic groups
live, the physical environments that combine different types of dwellings, other
buildings, and public and private spaces. Third, places are contexts in which the
everyday experiences of individuals and groups evolve. These experiences are the
result of juxtapositions of historical, social, and biographical contexts. In this
understanding, places also have histories which contribute to their present-day
character (Massey 1995). These histories develop along with the development of
residents’ personality, consciousness, and ideology (Pred 1981; 1984). The interplay
of all these factors leads to conditions that enable and constrain the nature of cultural
and social practices within that locale. These conditions reflect historically and
geographically specific power relations that are based on rules, resources and norms
(Pred 1984; Massey 1994; 1995).
Identity of Political Agents in Places of Residence
Most political economic approaches emphasize only the notion of place as
the locale, or node, where broader social, economic, and political processes unfold.
In this interpretation of place, the impact of economic restructuring processes plays a
major role in local politics and unfolds in all locales homogeneously. The results of
economic restructuring, such as the decline of manufacturing and the growth of the
service sector, appear as “objective” facts, and the political system of locales
29
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
seems to emerge in reaction to these economic forces (Peterson 1981; Gottdiener
1987). Also these results shape global processes—the mobility of capital,
information, and labor—and the sense of place within locales homogeneously.
Arguments such as the usual interpretation of “time-space compression” (Harvey
1989)—that is, movement and communication across space, the geographical
expansion of social relations, and our experience of all this—are dominant in these
studies. This interpretation of time-space compression emphasizes that actions of
capital and its currently increasing internationalization similarly shape our sense of
place and space.
However, this interpretation needs “differentiating socially” (Massey 1993:
147). This conceptualization of time-space compression and thus of place hides
differences that emerge in the everyday local experiences of individuals. It ignores
the fact that different social groups and individuals within different social and spatial
context experience this compression differently. Also there are similarities in the
sense of space and place among people who are living in the same spatial and
temporal scale. These are not random similarities. As argued by most feminist
approaches to citizenship, they are bound up with power relations based on class,
gender, race, ethnicity, nationality, lifecycle, and other characteristics of social
standing.
Moreover, this interpretation of place as determined by economic
restructuring processes suggests that these processes evolve independent of human
will or agency. This also contributes to the overgeneralization and simplification of
the impact of economic processes on locales, and the privileging of “structure over
agency” (Swanstrom 1993). In this conventional approach, “structure” develops as
30
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the result of capitalist production relations and determines all social, political and
cultural practices, as well as all shared interests and values and collective identities.
Consequently, conflicts and motives that shape urban politics in general and
neighborhood activism in particular relate only to production relations and to class-
based interests and identities. According to this point of view, when local residents
act collectively in their neighborhood, they do so because of the material and
political interests that originated outside their neighborhood through production
relations. Neighborhoods can only be sites of class struggles that resist capitalist
efforts to convert the locality to profitable uses and/or reduce the level of urban
services. Studies approaching locality-based collective actions from this perspective
refer to this process as the “displacement” of class struggles (Harvey 1989). They
identify collective interests and residential areas primarily on the basis of class,
whereas the definition of class appears to be exclusively in terms of production
relations at the workplace, not in residential areas.
Various studies criticize this exclusive focus on class-based identities as an
ineffective way of understanding collective action. Empirical studies about
citizenship point out the political importance of class- and non-class-based social
identities and affiliations in the emergence of collective action. This narrow
conception of political agents analytically hides social diversity and the
heterogeneity of “publics” (Fraser 1990; Young 1990), or collective identities, and
importance of non-economic values other than self-interest in influencing daily
decisions and actions.
A group of studies in political economic approaches also challenge this
conventional approach to urban politics. Before detailing their contributions, here I
outline the main epistemological and analytical limitations of the conventional
31
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
political economy approaches in understanding local politics at the neighborhood
level. Similar to the notion of citizenship in liberal traditions, one of the main
problems with these conventional approaches is their assumption of public and
private spheres as separate spheres of activity. This assumption is central to their
analyses of urban politics. This conceptualization of public and private spheres
assigns some spatial scales and locales as “political” or “apolitical,” and allocates
control to particular groups and individuals in these sites. It defines activities in the
public sphere as political and those in private sphere as apolitical. This devalues the
private sphere along with its (non)-economic issues and actors and ignores the
private sphere from analytical and theoretical perspectives of urban politics. In this
conceptualization, the public sphere (for example, the workplace) includes economic
and political activity and relations and is limited to the state, national, and
community levels. In contrast, the private sphere includes personal and family
activities and relations at the body and household levels.
This binary thinking has linguistic and analytical implications (Pateman
1989; Marston 1990). It suggests that the public sphere is the domain of production,
paid jobs, and politics, whereas the private sphere is the site of reproduction,
families, unpaid and/or informal work. Compared to workplaces, locales such as the
home and neighborhood appear insignificant as sites of production and political
relations. They are also small (that is, “insignificant”) scale in terms of non
production relations. Since those who are confined to these locales and scales are
outside of the realm of production, they and their activities are also considered
outside of the realm of politics. They are, according to this understanding, not able
to develop solidarities based on their relations within these locales. While women
might be part of a particular social class, their confinement to residential areas—
32
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
especially within the capitalist practice of work-home separation—makes them part
of the “apolitical” private sphere as well.
From Class-based to Territorial and Multi-Identities
A group of studies using a political economic approach challenge the
assumption that class-based identities are the only source of political agency, and
that production relations and economic issues are the only issues driving collective
activism. They demonstrate the emergence of non-class-based (as well as class-
based) identities within residential areas, and identify values and interests within
these areas as significant enough to result in collective activism.
Some of these studies show how ethnicity, race, and territoriality, rather than
class, maintain the boundaries and rules of American urban politics (Katznelson
1981). Emphasizing that not all movements are class-based movements, these works
point out that social inequality and local experiences are not linked to a wider class
consciousness that emerges in the workplace (Katznelson 1981; Fisher and Kling et
al. 1993). While explaining how ethnic and territorial identities form the basis of
collective action in residential areas, Katznelson (1981) argues that racial conflicts in
residential areas express themselves “according to some features of the logic of
capitalist development.” The separation of the workplace and the home in capitalist
relations led to the separation of the politics of work and the politics of the home, as
well. Residential segregation by class, race and ethnicity are especially significant in
the creation of neighborhood institutions that are separate from those at the
workplace. These institutions and community groups are the grounds where ethnic
and territorial identities develop outside the workplaces. Identifying themselves
along the lines of race, ethnicity and territoriality, and developing capacities through
33
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
such local institutions and groups, residents initiate collective activism in their
neighborhoods.
Identifying territorial identities as sources of political agency and residential
areas as locales for collective activism is not new to urban studies. A variety of
works within the Chicago School tradition elaborates the territorial and turf politics
of local communities in residential areas. In these studies, informal social networks,
neighbor- and kin-based solidarities, feelings about where people live, and limited
geographical mobility are some of core issues that are explored (Park et al. 1925;
Gans 1962; Suttles 1972). Other studies consider residents’ reasons for participating
in local community-based associations (Gans 1962; Suttles 1972; Hunter 1978;
Ahlbrandt 1984). However, these approaches have a tendency to focus only on the
internal structures and relations within a neighborhood and, thus, treat
neighborhoods as islands separated from the broader political, social, and economic
changes in urban space.
Some later works using a political economic approach develop this emphasis
on “territorial identities” as a basis for neighborhood activism (Dear and Wolch et al.
1989; Abu-Lughod et al. 1994; Mele 2000). While Katznelson’s work and those in
the Chicago School mostly focus on a local community in the neighborhood, these
works identify multiple “neighborhood groups” with conflicting interests within the
same residential area. They further describe how group identities and interests form
around issues of consumption, social status, life style, family, and property relations,
rather than solely class-based conflicts and economic interests. They relate these
identity formation processes to residents’ inclinations for getting involved in local
activism and to the ways in which economic and welfare state restructuring has
unfolded in particular locales (Dear and Wolch et al. 1989; Abu Lughod et al. 1994).
34
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
These studies document the impact of social and economic restructuring at the local
level in some central cities in the US: the changing nature of jobs, the gentrification
of urban areas, the economic revitalization of downtowns, low-cost housing
shortages, and the displacement of low income residents and homeless people from
central cities.
A Variety of Local Groups and Interests
While this body of work shifts its emphasis from class-based identities to
new forms of territorial identities derived from social status and consumption, it also
points out that economic interests are not the only reason for collective action. Other
works demonstrate that non-economic interests, especially around property relations,
are as important as economic interests for understanding collective activism in
residential areas (Molotch 1976; Logan and Molotch 1987). Non-economic interests
are social interests related to the use values of that place. Studies with this emphasis
suggest that people with similar investments in the same territory have similar
economic and political interests in that territory. Local property ownership appears
as the main material interest upon which to act collectively (Agnew 1978; Cox 1978;
Baum and Kingston 1984; Davis 1991) around, for example, safety issues, services,
amenities, or the aesthetics of a neighborhood (Cox 1982; Ley and Mercer 1980).
However, Logan and Molotch (1987), for instance, weakly discuss the variety
of “land interest groups” in their theories of urban political life. Their discussions of
“growth coalitions” that mobilize around land-based interests have an elite focus.
They approach residents’ interests mostly in terms of “sentiments,” “attachments,”
“emotional meanings,” and “social networks,” and, thus, mostly in terms of non
economic interests. They hardly mention any interests that might differentiate
resident groups from each other. The same criticism is also relevant for land
35
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
entrepreneurs. They do not discuss different ways that distinct groups of
entrepreneurs—such as landlords, developers, and property managers—might seek
their “pecuniary interests.”
Meanwhile, a small body of literature explains how local property relations
might also create groups and conflicts among residents. Only a few studies detail the
economic, social, and political differences between renters and homeowners in
American culture (Perin 1977). Some other works implicitly propose that residents
with different relations to property and place have different economic and political
interests. Homeowner opposition to the development of public housing (Agnew
1978), confrontations among social groups in gentrifying neighborhoods, and
tensions between those approaching neighborhoods as “communal living space”
versus those who view them as a “commodity” (Cox 1981), are examples of the
internal conflicts that can exist within neighborhoods.
Collective Consumption and the “Work” of Social Reproduction
Conventional approaches identify residential areas as sites with non
productive work and, thus, “apolitical” actions. Most of the works that I mentioned
in the previous section too describe residential areas as non-productive locales
whereas they identify conflicting property relations that might lead to political
action. Meanwhile, another body of work within the political economic approach
too emphasizes the political aspects of these locales and activities in terms of their
roles in capitalist relations. However, rather than focusing on the notion of “non
productivity,” they conceptualize these locales as sites for collective consumption
and social reproduction while further pointing out that both collective consumption
and social reproduction are important pieces of capitalism. This also suggests that
36
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
these locales and small scales of social relations are interconnected to larger systems
of capitalism.
Castells (1983) defines the city as the location for the reproduction of the
work force and for individual and collective consumption. He argues that the
“commodified” urban space created by capitalism leads to highly differentiated and
socially exploited and deprived urban areas. These areas are the bases for urban
social movements, which result from urban crises prompted by the socialization of
consumption, and from political crises related to state intervention in social life.
They may reflect residents’ concerns about social exploitation, threats to historical
and local identity, or exclusion from decision-making at the level of local
governance4. In Castells’s understanding, an urban movement may take a non-class
orientation yet the social class structure still lies at the basis of these movements.
This approach is similar to Marxist-feminist approaches to urban space in that
the latter defines residential areas as locales for social reproduction. Neighborhoods,
homes, families, households, and the body are sites of social reproduction—that is,
both the reproduction of the social relations that maintain capitalism as well as the
material bases upon which social life is premised (Katz and Monk 1993, quoted in
Marston 2000:233). This suggests that these (small) scales are significant aspects of
capitalist relations. This understanding contrasts to conventional approaches that
focus primarily on large urban scales of production and sometimes even privilege
these larger scales as theoretically and empirically superior to the local scale.
4 Castells identifies three types o f conflicts that local community-based organizations might encounter:
(i) conflicts over the collective means o f consumption which evolve between residents’ demands for improved
quality o f life and the capitalist drive for profit-making in urban space; (ii) cultural conflicts between mainstream
values and particular local, ethnic, and historical traditions; and (iii) political challenges by residents to the state’s
monopoly over decision-making about urban space and life.
37
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Moreover, these locales and scales of social reproduction juxtapose with and
evolve in relation to other locales and scales of capitalist relations. The household,
for instance, is a complex social scale where social reproduction, biological
reproduction and consumption intersect. Although the separation of work and home
and the stereotyping of the home as “apolitical” are fundamental outcomes of
capitalist industrialization (McKenzie 1989), home is both a paid and unpaid work
space and a living space (Hayden 1980; 1984; Mackenzie 1989; Weisman 1992;
Spain 1992). Also this approach redefines work to include non-wage activities such
as child rearing, housework, and community involvement as well, and the household
as a site of economic production (Markusen 1980; Milroy 1991). Thus, multiple
urban scales exist within the socio-spatial organization of capitalism (Marston 2000)
and interweave with each other.
Another important contribution of feminist studies is its conceptualization of
the patriarchy as another system—in addition to capitalism—that determines the
social standings of individuals. As some feminist scholars emphasize, all power
regimes interconnect (D. Smith 1987) and no single social category, such as class,
race, ethnicity, or gender, can alone provide a satisfactory understanding of
individual experiences. These experiences do not evolve in a unitary way but in
multiple and distinct ways. The interplay of gendered (Massey 1994) and racialized
economy (Pulido et al. 1996; Kobayashi and Peake 2000), and the organization of
urban space and of spatial units, such as homes, workplaces, neighborhoods, cities,
suburbs, and urban public spaces, recreate individuals’ distinct everyday experiences
(Hayden 1980; MacKenzie 1989; Weisman 1992; Spain 1992). This emphasis on the
interconnectedness of social categories and their relationships to the organization of
38
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
urban space, as well as to broader economic, cultural, and political structures, surely
improves our understanding of the reasons for local activism in residential areas.
An Evaluation: A Need for a Citizenship Focus in Studies of “Place”
Citizen participation in the form of involvement in voluntary associations and
activism in residential areas highlight “active” notion of citizenship. In this notion,
individuals engage in the terrain of power relations to change their standings in these
relations. Feminist approaches to citizenship demonstrate that the locales and scales
of this terrain are not limited to the formally constructed public sphere but rather
include small scales of spatial units such as neighborhoods, communities, and even
homes. They recast those who are confined to these small scales as political agents
although traditionally they do not have easy access to the formally defined public
sphere.
This point of view helps to highlight the limitations of conventional political
economic approaches which inadequately describe the locale and scale of urban
politics, issues of identity and political agency, and the reasons for involving in
politics. A group of studies within political economic approaches also challenge
these limitations. Although each work has its own limitations, this review suggests a
potential shift to a citizenship focus within (a small subset of) political economic
approaches to urban studies.
In explaining residents’ inclinations for getting involved in local associations
and in neighborhood activism in general, these studies point out the importance of
the interplay of non-economic and economic interests of residential areas for local
activists. In this understanding, economic interests develop not necessarily through
workplace relations but through residential property relations. Non-economic
interests are usually place-based use or social values. These interests might also
39
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
be related to social identities based on race and ethnicity, sexuality, life style, or
consumption values. Being reactionary or progressive, these approaches to activism
in neighborhoods may develop territorial identities.
These non-class based identities, however, are still embedded within
production and reproduction relations. As some Marxist-feminist studies
demonstrate, individuals’ gendered roles and responsibilities in the class-based and
racialized contexts of the market and of the state shape their social standings and
issues in webs of power relations. Capitalism and patriarchy combine to shape not
only production relations on a grand scale, but also reproduction relations on a small
scale, such as at home and in neighborhoods. Consequently, and as a few studies
emphasize, power relations exist in multiple forms and at multiple levels, and
interact in such a way so as to reproduce power regimes and determine individuals’
statuses as citizens.
Resource Mobilization for Voluntary Organizations
Shared values and perceptions of issues do not necessarily result in local
residents’ collective action or involvement in neighborhood associations.
Furthermore, the issues that initiate neighborhood activism in a particular locale
might not necessarily lead to similar resident mobilization in other locales.
Individual and collective capacities for local activism mobilize residents around
shared issues. Capacities differ based on the resources available for local activism—
the tangible and intangible items that are necessary to sustain the group or the
organization over time. These range from time to money and from the members’
physical and professional capacities to their social standings in general. The
presence, strength, and absence of resources help to determine the level of resident
40
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
activism in neighborhoods. To understand these conditions, in the following section,
I look at the literature on resource mobilization of voluntary organizations.
A large body of work, drawing from a variety of approaches and disciplines,
constitutes the literature on resource mobilization (Dahl 1961; McCarthy and Zald
1973; 2003). This contrasts to most political economic studies of local activism
(reviewed in the previous section) which examine the issue of resources implicitly or
sparingly. Yet both literatures distinguish between human agency—that is,
individual becoming association member—and contextual or structural factors. The
contextual factors include the macro-societal conditions that usually exist prior to the
mobilization process and affect the sustainability of mobilization efforts and
voluntary organizations.
Here I conceptualize factors related to human agency as internal resources
and contextual factors as external resources. Internal resources might have origins
within the organization based on its membership, staff, and organizational wealth.
Or the organizations might have external sources such as the state, market, and
voluntary sector. The external resources include organizational ties, access to private
and state agencies, state-based regulations and laws that favor the organization,
revenue sources (such as grants and the provision of services), knowledge and
expertise.
Internal or Member-based Resources
Members provide the main input of internal resources in most voluntary
associations. Even if the association’s financial support comes primarily from
outside sources, such as foundations and government agencies, its membership base
is very important—especially for its labor power. While members’ reasons for
participating in associations may vary, as stated in the previous section, studies in
41
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the pluralist tradition argue that individuals compare the costs and rewards of
involvement when deciding whether to commit their personal resources to an
association (Olson 1965). Olson (1965) argues that most members will not feel
inclined to contribute their resources if no incentives exist to encourage them to do
so. If, at the end of their cost-benefit analysis, members—as rational beings, in this
approach—see that associations can benefit without their contributions, then no
contribution to the collective action and the common good will exist. To overcome
this tendency of members to take a “free ride,” some suggest that associations remain
small and require their members to commit resources (Knoke and Wood 1981).
Other works emphasize that the structure of larger organizations and the efforts of
association leaders might influence individuals’ perceptions of the costs and rewards
of their involvement (McCarthy and Zald 2003). These studies also imply that
normative controls are important for encouraging members to contribute resources to
associations (Perrow 1970). Associations cannot compensate members for their
commitment of resources, nor can they obtain these resources elsewhere if the
membership base is reluctant to make such a commitment.
The type and level of resources brought to an association by its members
relate to members’ socio-economic characteristics, according to most pluralist and
behavioral approaches. Empirical research within these traditions suggests that the
wealthy have more discretionary resources, such as money and time, to allocate to
organizations than have the poor. More educated individuals have “intellectual”
resources to bring to the association, based on their opinion, knowledge, and
expertise (Verba et al. 1995). Manpower, charisma and name recognition (Perrow
1970), or leaders (Knoke and Wood 1981) are also basic internal resources. While
money can be stored, other resources, such as labor power and energy, are perishable
42
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
and cannot be converted to other kinds of resources. Energy, along with the
personality of members and leaders, might help associations to acquire additional
resources (Knoke and Wood 1981).
In reality, the development of such resources is a complicated process for
most associations. One of the complications is that members are not only the
primary source of resources, but also the “consumer” or beneficiaries of a substantial
share of output by an association. Another problem is that some members might be
beneficiaries while others are sympathizers without being part of the beneficiary base
(McCarthy and Zald 1973; Freeman 1979). Values, past experiences, expectations,
reference groups, and relations between beneficiaries and organizers, both at the
individual and associational level, may emerge as catalysts as well as constraints to
resource mobilization (Freeman 1979). Furthermore, as a beneficiary, sympathizer
or volunteer, an individual’s access to any organization may relate to the value
structure of that organization or institution. Certain administrative or bureaucratic
structures may encourage or discourage the involvement of certain or most
individuals in an organization. If the “bureaucratic openness” of an organization
allows better access to organizational resources, the “bureaucratic routinization”
limits access for most individuals. With the routinization of procedures, a small
number of professionals make decisions about programming and the allocation of
resources (Gittell 1980).
External Resources
Voluntary associations, like other organizations, are embedded in larger
social systems with which they interact continuously. They are not self-contained
entities. All organizations need continuous input of resources. Within this “open
systems” approach, associations interact with the market, civil society, and the
43
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
state (Katz and Kahn 1978, quoted in Knoke and Wood 1981). Resource exchanges
form the core of these associations’ interactions with their institutional environment.
Within this open system, all associations compete for scarce and valued
resources. Competition influences both the association’s standing within the
voluntary sector and also its external goals and internal structure. In order to reach
to a “bargaining position” in this competitive environment, some argue that
organizations might change their mission and internal structure (Yuchtman and
Seashore 1967). Others suggest that they may make adjustments to the internal
structure of the association and establish new inter-organizational exchanges (Knoke
and Wood 1981).
An association’s access to resource-rich environments, according to these
views, is only possible if that association’s “structures and operations reflect the
requirement and expectations of the institutions they deal with” (Rabrenovic
1990:24). In other words, voluntary associations do not work in a political or
economic vacuum (Gamer and Zald 1987; Wolch 1990). In the institutional
environment of resource-rich institutions and organizations, however, the level of
bureaucratic openness or routinization may impact an association’s access to external
resources.
Restructuring Processes and Resources for the Voluntary Sector
Explanations of the political economic context of voluntary associations,
though scarce, provide some important insights to understanding of their resource
mobilization. The interrelations of the state, market, and voluntary sectors form a
political economic context in which voluntary organizations access resources. The
role of the state in today’s voluntary sector is central. The state is the largest single
contributor of external resources to voluntary organizations in the UK and US
44
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
(Wolch 1990). Following the restructuring of the welfare state in advanced industrial
and developing countries, the relationships between the state and voluntary
organizations are getting more institutionalized and coordinated. These new
relationships develop around cooperation, rather than competition and conflict, and
focus on service delivery rather than societal change (Wolch 1990; Chaskin and Garg
1997; Mayo and Graig 1994; Hasson and Ley 1994)5. Some studies argue that the
welfare state’s penetration of voluntary organizations has transformed the voluntary
sector into a “shadow state” (Wolch 1990); as a result, the voluntary sector has
shifted to the center politically (Mayo and Craig 1995) and become reliant on state-
based resources.
State-based resources come directly in the form of contracts for services and
subsidies for client fees for voluntary service purchases. Laws and regulations, tax
expenditures, grants and funds, and institutional ties between state officials and
members of voluntary organizations provide indirect resources. Although state-
based resources for voluntary organizations have increased in recent years,
organizations still compete for these resources. Becoming aware of and gaining
access to resources is central to the bargaining position and competitiveness of
voluntary organizations. As mentioned earlier, however, this is determined, in part,
by the degree of bureaucratic openness of state-based procedures. Problems of
bureaucratic routinization (Gittell 1980), technical language, and elaborate and
lengthy procedures for obtaining tax-exempt status, for instance, (Wolch 1990) might
5 State and international agencies, such as the World Bank, started interesting alternative and grassroots
approaches to development, including strategies to promote community participation as a means o f enhancing the
development process. Also, a large number o f these organizations have been integrated into institutionalized
efforts for economic development. This institutional support for community participation emphasizes cost-
savings for the public sector and promotes project efficiency and self-help. Only a few cases o f the World Bank
using community participation as a strategy for empowerment exist. The voluntary sector has been more
interested in employing strategies to promote community empowerment (Mayo and Craig 1995).
45
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
discourage some organizations and grassroots groups from working within the
voluntary sector. In some cases, compliance also requires auditing, investigation, or
revocation of voluntary organizations by state agencies. Attempts to comply with
these procedures might push some voluntary organizations to skew their goals or lose
their chances of accessing state-based resources, while the state has the power “to
bring selective pressure to bear on groups who were on the ‘wrong’ side of issues”
(Wolch 1990:64).
Neither the political economic contexts of local associations nor the relations
among the state, market, and voluntary sectors are fixed. Their relationships develop
historically, and change in temporal and spatial scale (Fainstein and Fainstein 1991).
Also the state apparatus has different operating parts, such as the U.S. legislative and
executive branches, and operates on different urban scales, such as the federal or
municipal governments. Moreover, each era has its own political, social, and
economic characteristics that might create differences and conflicting policies
towards the operation of voluntary organizations or creation of resources for them.
The political visions, economic standards, and cultural norms of each era influence
attitudes about minimum acceptable incomes, universal education, health care
services, urban amenities and infrastructure, and adequate housing. The extent of
external resources for voluntary organizations is determined by the interplay of all
these time- and space-sensitive structural factors.
PART 3. STUDY APPROACH
Restructuring Processes and Local Residents’ Participation in NAs
My study’s approach evolves out of new understandings in citizenship studies
and with political economic approaches to local activism, place, and social identities.
46
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Overall, it suggests that an analysis of relationships between citizenship, place, and
democracy should address the processes that link economics and politics as
experienced locally and differently by individuals and social groups. This
recognizes, first, the roles and importance of political, economic, and cultural
structures in the development of citizenship relations, the rise of local community-
based associations, and understanding residents’ reasons and capacities for any local
activism. Yet it also considers the active roles of individuals and social groups in
shaping conditions for local activism and development of citizenship relations
(Castells 1983; Logan and Molotch 1987; Wolch and Dear 1989; Massey 1994).
Individuals and social groups too might be generative of political and social actions.
Within this framework, second, individuals appear with their social standing
in webs of power relations. Individuals’ class, race/ethnicity, gender, age, immigrant
status, and other social characteristics influence their social standings. Also these
webs of power relations evolve across multiple and interweaving social realms that
are influenced by capitalist and patriarchal relations (Massey 1994; Staeheli and
Clarke 1995; Ackelsberg 1988). I call interactions of individuals mediated by their
social standings across social realms as their social relations.
Third, my study approach also adds that the rights, entitlements and
opportunities that come with citizenship are inextricably tied to individuals’ and
social groups’ everyday experiences in “place,” or locale. This argument has
multiple points to consider. One of them is that places as localities are points of
entry where people engage in processes of political and economic structuring at the
larger scale (Agnew 1993; Soja 1989; Massey 1994). In contrast to some studies
with political economic approaches, my study argues that the importance of locality
does not necessarily decline in the face of the “time-space compression” of capital
47
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
(Harvey 1989) and the new international divisions of labor. Under the current
economic and political conditions, broader restructuring processes unfold distinctly
in locales (Swanstrom 1993; Massey 1994) and social identities in different localities
have new meanings (Wolch and Dear et al. 1989; Massey 1994; Staeheli and Clarke
1996).
Another point is that places appear as “distinct forms of social organization”
that contribute to variations in social practices over time and space (Dyck 1989). In
this understanding, social, economic, and political relations on local and larger scales
combine uniquely and reflect themselves in the distribution of social and physical
resources to individuals, social groups, organizations, and institutions in that locale
(Dyck 1989; Spain 1992). They impact also knowledge and understandings that
guide social interactions in a particular locale (Pred 1984). Through their everyday
experiences, individuals interpret and uncover social meanings “that both guide and
are derived from social interactions in everyday life” (Pred 1984; Dyck 1989:331).
Social relations of individuals that I described above get new meanings through their
everyday experiences within these locales. I call these as individuals’ place-based
relations.
Fourth, my study takes that interplays of residents’ social and place-based
relations influence their individual context in gaining access to resources for
participating in NAs and in urban polity generally. Also, place and these interplays
matter in examining how residents themselves characterize their reasons and
capacities for involving in local associations and also their roles as political agents.
The manners that residents make sense of meanings of their place of residence and of
their social and place-based relations reflect themselves in their decisions to
participate in NAs.
48
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
However, fifth, these senses of an individual are not interdependent from
other’s positions. Similarities and differences among individuals’ experiences and
senses are not random. Common set of macroeconomic, political and social forces
determines the social institutions and settings in which women and men live their
lives (Ackelsberg 1988). These “mediating settings”—such as government offices,
workplaces, schools, neighborhoods, organizations, streets, or housing units—might
have both spatial and institutionalized contexts. They mediate relations between the
macro-factors like the market and the state, and the micro-factors like the
communities, families, and individuals. Within these settings, residents with
common interplays of social and place-based relations have similar everyday
experiences. Individuals and social groups with differing characteristics of these
interplays have differing everyday experiences.
Mediation of Uneven Development of Citizenship in Locales
Consequently, consideration of all these points has three implications for the
understanding of citizenship development through residents’ participation in NAs
within a same residential area. First, it suggests that the unevenness of economic and
political processes poses the possibility of uneven development of citizenship not
only between localities (Staeheli and Clarke 1996) but also within localities. The
latter especially at the neighborhood level is an understudied research area. Second,
dynamic relations among groups and between individuals, groups, and the state
create new arenas of political activism for citizenship development. These relations
develop out of individuals’ and social groups’ everyday experiences embedded
within the mediating settings that they have access to. These settings channel larger
economic and political forces into the daily settings in the form of, for instance,
wage policies or decreasing welfare supports to certain individuals. How these
49
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
settings also mediate development of new citizenship relations is still an important
but understudied question. Related to these points, third, how uneven development
of citizenship among local groups of a singular residential area happens within these
mediating settings is still unexamined.
In examining residents’ reasons and capacity for participating in local NAs
within respect to broader political and economic processes, various daily mediating
settings such as workplaces, schools, churches, community organizations, homes,
and streets are important. I suspect that they channel such processes into the daily
life of residents in such potential forms as followed:
(i) Changing employment practices of work regimes: The standard number
of hours worked per day and per week, as well as the contracts and wages associated
with work, are changing (Tilly 1991, quoted in Staeheli and Clarke 1995). For
working class people—especially those in the service sector—non-standardized
work routines are becoming more common (Waldinger and Bozorgmehr 1996).
Compared to those who earn higher wages, the working class faces harsher working
conditions and has a more difficult time making a decent living. This impacts the
amount of discretionary time available for political activity. In the end, they either
participate in political activity with minimal strategies rather than sustained
organizational involvement, or do not participate at all in any community-based
organization. Also these work regimes influence some individuals with certain
characteristics more than others. For example, women and people of color are
disproportionately employed in low paying jobs, according to US Census data since
1980s.
(ii) Declining social rights and local politics: Before the restructuring of the
welfare state, welfare policies involved some redistribution among groups. At the
50
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
local level, these included employment in the public sector, a range of social services
provided to households, and fiscal distribution among taxpayers and beneficiaries. To
a certain extent, where welfare recipients live impacts their access to social rights
because these are matters of state and local policy. Following the restructuring of the
welfare state and cutbacks in services, the social rights of citizens fostered by these
policies are jeopardized. These threats are most severe at the local level since many
services are dependent upon local political and economic conditions. Individuals’
ability to renew their social rights depends on their access to local political
institutions.
(iii) Shifting local political access: Bureaucratic openness (Gittell 1980) and
bureaucratic routinization (Gittell 1980; Wolch 1990) including the terms of the
political institutions for citizens to work with them have always affected citizens’
access to state power. Also the hierarchical institutional structure and the decision
makings that are based on majority rule, rather than consensus, pose challenges for
local associations with nonhierarchical structures (Clarke et al. 1995).
All these three and other processes unfold as a set of interconnecting features
in locales. Any change in one of them impacts all the others. In addition, they affect
local residents differently based on those individuals’ social and place-based
relations, as stated above.
51
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 2
RESEARCH CONTEXT AND METHODOLOGY
PARTI. RESEARCH CONTEXT
This is a case study in an inner-city area of Los Angeles City. Initially,
without any specific geographical boundaries for this study, I focused on the
questions why and how residents—particularly women—become local activists in
their neighborhood. I planned to examine residents’ “ordinary” local activism, rather
than those that are popularized by media images or that develop as part of large
social movements. I define ordinary local activism as residents’ daily volunteer
work that aim to maintain or improve their quality of residential life. Also initially, I
did not pre-specify any class, race, ethnicity or other social characteristics, or any
urban issue as central to my study. Consequently, I did not mind initiating this
research in my neighborhood that locates near the university campus where I was
studying and also working at the time. Rather than the conveniences of studying
where I live, my argument that all neighborhoods have some kind of ordinary local
activism is the reason for this choice.
Later the way I identified the local interviewees for this study helped me to
specify the geographical boundaries for this research. I developed the list of all
interviewees with the contact names that the initial and the following interviewees
provided me with6 . In looking for the potential interviewees, I emphasized that I am
interested in talking to “local activists living around the University area.” By the
“University area,” I meant the surroundings of the University of Southern California
(USC), where during this research I was studying and working at and living nearby.
6 It is called the snow-ball technique.
52
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
This strategy provided me with a relatively compact study site encompassing the
areas that my local interviewees define as their neighborhood.
Study Site
My study site locates roughly between the Los Angeles downtown to the
northeast and the University of Southern California to the south7 . Santa Monica
Freeway is the northern boundary, whereas the Harbor Freeway divides the eastern
section of the site.
History of the Area
The mid-section of my study site8 emerged as a farming community in 1870s.
With the establishment of a new university (USC) in 1879, the area became known
as the “University District.” In the real estate boom of 1890s, a lot of middle class
families moved to the area and created one of the earliest street car suburbs of Los
Angeles. Many Victorian style houses emerged in the area during that era. Soon the
wealthy families discovered this quiet district and abandoned the congestion, noise
and dust of Bunker Hill and South Grand Avenue. After 1910s, the wealthy families
started to move westward into new manorial suburbs. New residential construction
of bungalows and multi-unit apartments served growing numbers of middle class
people in the area. Still the University District was prestigious with the
constructions of, for instance, Natural History Museum and Rose Garden, Second
Church of Christ Scientist, Saint John’s Episcopal Church, the Southern California
Automobile Association, the Coliseum, Saint Vincent de Paul Church, and the
7 This also overlaps with the zip code area 90007.
8 Today it is the section surrounded by Jefferson Boulevard, Vermont Avenue, Santa M. Freeway, and
Harbor Freeway.
53
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Shrine Auditorium in early 20th Century. In 1932, the area hosted the Tenth
Olympic Games in the Coliseum.
By mid-20th Century, the real estate deeds of sale in the area contained
racially restrictive covenants9 . These covenants restricted the mid-section of my
study site for Caucasian only. African Americans could own property in the Howes
Tract to the south of the Jefferson Boulevard (Pierson 1990), and to the east of the
Figueroa Street today. In 1920s, racial tensions grew. Taking advantage of the
forty-year limit on racial restrictions of a land deed, an African American family
purchased property in the mid-section of the site. White property owners reacted
with rumors of racial invasion. In 1922, the residents in this area1 0 formed the Anti-
African American Housing Association, later changing its name to the University
District Property Owners Association (McClenahan 1929). Yet the target of racist
epithets was not only African Americans, but also Asians. By 1940s, the
neighborhoods surrounding the University campus became racially diverse but
segregated.
During the World War II, thousands of mid-Westemers and Southerners
migrated to Los Angeles for jobs. Number of racial conflicts grew not only by
racism, but also by the competition for jobs, public services, and scarce housing.
Racially restrictive covenants and land deeds limited the number of housing units
available to the increasing number of non-white families. Despite the covenants,
some African American families were able to buy houses in segregated
neighborhoods through white friends, willing sellers, and sympathetic realtors. The
Supreme Court settled down this issue in 1948 in the landmark decision known as
9 Under this practice, neighborhoods were legally segregated to particular racial groups. In this way
property owners agreed not to sell their properties to persons o f particular racial identities.
10 To the west o f the Vermont Avenue and the south o f the Adams Boulevard today.
54
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Shelley v. Kraemer. The Court decreed that the racially restrictive covenants
violated the Fourteenth Amendment and thus, were unenforceable by the courts. The
West Adams area—a larger district including a large portion of my study site to the
west—is the first Los Angeles area where these covenants were overturned as
unconstitutional.
By 1950s, Anglo population in my study site dropped dramatically. African
Americans and Asians legally purchased or rented residential properties and moved
to the University District. Also the neighborhood was no longer predominantly
owner occupied. In 1950, nearly 75% of the local houses were tenant-occupied and
the absentee ownership became widespread (Pierson 1990). Since 1970s, similar to
the city, this area experienced racial and ethnic shifts in local population. Today
Latino population encompasses the majority of population in the area, as detailed
later.
A University in the Neighborhood
Having a university in the neighborhood impacts the economic and
demographic development of that area. With its increasing number of students and
staffs, the University of Southern California seeks urban land to expand, especially
since post-WWII. Meanwhile, the construction of the Harbor and Santa Monica
Freeways respectively to the east and to the north of this area in 1950s and 1960s
changed the local physical and social landscape dramatically. Besides the
displacements of thousand of residents, these freeways divided the neighborhoods.
The location of the freeways also left a few alternate directions for the University’s
expansion. The state-owned Exposition Park to the south and the Harbor Freeway to
the east make the University to grow only to the west and north, where only
residential areas expand.
55
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
The University’s greatest expansion came in the 1960s and 1970s. In 1961,
the university administration completed a master plan to direct the University’s
growth and development over the next two decades. This was the largest expansion
plan into the adjacent residential neighborhoods1 1 . But this expansion brought
controversy and resentments in the surrounding communities (Pierson 1990). The
main reason was the use of eminent domain by the Community Redevelopment
Agency, (CRA)1 2 , to purchase the residential areas that were later included to the
expansion of the University’s main campus. Just before the implementation of the
University’s master project, CRA designated this neighborhood as one of the
redevelopment project areas in the inner-city of Los Angeles1 3 . In late 1960s, the
CRA-assisted expansion of the USC Campus happened. CRA designated additional
areas around the campus as the redevelopment sites. In 1979, the Adams-Normandie
4321 Redevelopment Project1 4 , in 19831 5 and in 19891 6 the expansions of Hoover
Redevelopment Project were added.
The University has not purchased or developed any new housing facilities
since the 1984 Olympics1 7 . Yet a housing crunch has emerged in the area parallel to
the housing crisis in Los Angeles City since 1980s. Also, more students live nearby
11 The growth was the between McClintock and Vermont Avenues. It increased the size o f the campus to
130 acres (SCampus Stud. Handbook 1961-2).
12 In 1945, the California Redevelopment Act passed. The purpose was to provide the State a new
strategy for clearing urban blight and finance improved urban services and infrastructural needs. The Agency’s
purpose is to clear urban blight and finance improved urban services and infrastructural needs. In addition, as a
state requirement, 20% o f redevelopment must be committed to affordable housing, which led this agency an
important affordable housing resource.
13 The City paid attention on the blighted conditions o f the inner city following the Watts Riots in 1965.
14 Covering 404 acres between Adams Boulevard, Western Avenue, and the Santa Monica and Harbor
Freeways.
15 Expansion by 571 acres in three sub-areas: the Vermont Avenue commercial corridor, Exposition Park,
and the Figueroa Corridor, including I JSC’s fraternity and sorority row today.
16 Expansion along Vermont Avenue.
17 Daily Trojan Nov.8 2000.
56
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the campus today than they did 10 years ago, especially to the north and west of the
campus. The University renovated its housing facilities on- and off-campus to
increase their capacity. However, this increase in the number of local students also
has resulted in demand for non-university local housing, as detailed in Chapter Five.
Socio-economic Profile of the Area
The majority of residents in this area are Hispanics. The African American,
white, and Asian populations too are part of the racial and ethnic profile of this area.
Table 1: Total Population and Racial and Ethnic Characteristics 1 8
Study Site LA City LA County US
Total Population 45,021 3,694,820 9,519,338 281,421,906
Race (% of Total Population)*
Hispanic or Latino 58.2 46.5 44.6 12.5
African Americans 13.8 12.0 10.5 12.9
White 36.5 51.2 52.8 77.2
Asian 11.9 11.0 13.1 4.2
American Indian and Alaska Native 1.4 1.4 1.5 1.5
* Race alone or in comljination with one or more races
Young families with kids are dominant in certain sections of the area. The
University impacts this diversity with its international student-body and, mostly
white, domestic students living on- and nearby the campus. Since early 1980s,
certain parts of the area have influx of middle-class people in different race and
ethnicity who are interested in local historic houses.
Local employment continues to be concentrated nearby or within the campus.
The University is the biggest private employer in the city. Other institutions too
provide local employment opportunities. These are the Hebrew Union College, the
18 US Census Bureau, Census 2000 Summary File 1 (SF 1) 100-Percent Data.
57
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Mount Saint Mary’s College, the Shrine Auditorium1 9 , the Los Angeles Memorial
Coliseum, the museums at the Exposition Park, and businesses on the Figueroa
Street2 0 .
Yet still the average figures for my study site tell that this is a low-income
area. As shown in Table 2, the unemployment rate for the site is slightly higher than
for the City and the County. Also, the percentage of the number of residents with
well-paying jobs—that is, management and professional jobs—are high but still
below the Los Angeles figures. The majority of the employed residents in the study
site are in service, production and transportation, or sales and office occupations.
Some of these jobs are wage level but mostly low wage jobs. This affects the local
median income level. Both the median household and family income are very below
the city and the county medians. Compared to the city and county, a higher
percentage of total number of households gets public assistance income2 1 .
19 As o f 1999, the University Park campus alone has 10,550 full-time equivalent employees. (USC also
operates an East Los Angeles health sciences campus in conjunction with the USC-Los Angeles County Medical
Center.) As a whole, the institutions in the University Park Neighborhood provide 11,800 jobs (according to the
SCAQ, Southern California Association o f Governments). So this number reaches to 22,500 jobs including those
in the USC main campus. According to the SCAG’s figures, this number equals to 61% o f the workers employed
in Beverly Hills’ shopping district north o f Wilshire Boulevard, which includes Rodeo Drive. According to a
study done by USC professors, the net economic impact o f the University Park neighborhood for Southern
California is $1.2 billion, when combined with purchases by these institutions from other businesses in the
region. For each dollar spent by these institutions, $1.83 o f regional income is generated
(http://www.usc.edu/ext-relations/unipark/build_dev_impact.html). 1
20 It is the four-mile long Figueroa Corridor Partnership (see Chapter 5). The Partnership is a consortium
o f 107 businesses along Figueroa Boulevard between Wilshire Boulevard and Vernon Street. It accounts for a
total o f 48,000 employees with an annual payroll o f $1.7 billion with an annual operating budget o f $2.8 billion,
according to partnership figures (http://www.usc.edu/ext-relations/unipark/build_dev_impact.html)
21 9.1% compared to 6.9% and 6.4% in the city and county respectively.
58
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Table 2: Employment Status, Occupation, and Income Level
Study
Site
LA City LA
County
US
Employment Status (% of Population 16 years and older)
In labor force 51.6 60.2 60.5 63.9
Unemployed 7.1 5.6 5 3.7
Employed 44.4 54.6 55.5 59.7
Occupation (% of Total Labor Force)
Management, professional, and related occupations 24.4 34.2 34.3 33.6
Service occupations 19.8 16.0 14.7 14.7
Sales and office occupations 27.6 26.7 27.6 26.7
Construction, extraction, and maintenance occupations 6.7 7.7 7.8 9.4
Production, transportation, and material moving
occupations
21.6 15.2 15.5 14.6
Income Level
Median household income (dollars) 17,644 36,687 42,189 41,994
Median family income (dollars) 23,917 39,942 46,452 50,046
Per capita income (dollars) 8,586 20,671 20,683 21,857
Families below poverty level 31.1% 18.3% 14.4% 9.2%
Individuals below poverty level 41.0% 22.1% 17.9% 12.4%
An Inner-City Area o f the Los Angeles City
Overall these data tell that this inner-city area has racially diverse and
economically poor population and a private university that is an important economic
engine in the city. Yet making sense of this area’s socio-economic conditions within
the context of the Los Angeles City too is important. Los Angeles City houses the
highest percentage of poor families in the nation, as shown in Table 2 above.
In the city, the percentage of the number of high school graduates and above
is lower than at the nation. At my study site, the education level overall is lower than
at the city despite the high number of college students living nearby the University
campus. Also residents at this site are more likely to speak a language other than
English at home and to be foreign-born compared to LA City and County, whereas
these figures at the city and county are three times higher than at the nation.
59
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Table 3: Education Level, Foreign-bom, and Language at Home
Study Site LA City LA County US
Educational attainment (% of Population 25
years and over)
Less than 9t h grade 35.6 19.0 16.3 7.54
9t h to 12t h grade, no diploma 20.1 14.4 13.8 12.06
High school graduate or higher 44.3 66.6 69.9 80.4
(% of Total Population)
Foreign bom 45.6 40.9 36.2 11.1
Speak a language other than English at home
(5 years and older)
65.5 57.8 54.1 17.9
The percentage of non-family households in this area is nearly as high as the
percentage of family households, which might be due to the single university
students and also single workers living in the area (Table 4). Also, the majority of
total population lives in renter-occupied housing units, and a very high percentage of
occupied housing units are rental units. Homeownership rate at the site is much
lower than at the city, whereas the latter is already lower than at the nation.
Table 4: Households by Type and Housing Occupancy
Study Site LA City LA County US
Households by Type (% of Total Households)
Family households (families) 55.4 62.6 68.2 68.1
Non-family households 44.6 37.4 31.8 31.9
Population in occupied housing units
In owner-occupied housing units 16.5 40.7 50.2 68.7
In renter-occupied housing units 83.5 59.3 49.8 31.3
Housing Occupancy (% of Total Housing Units)
Vacant housing units 6.1 4.7 4.2 9.0
Occupied housing units 93.6 95.3 95.8 91.0
Owner occupied housing units 11.9 38.6 47.9 66.2
Renter-occupied housing units 88.1 61.4 52.1 33.8
Meanwhile, the median value of single-family homes at the study site is
below the city and county figures. This relative affordability also appears in the rent
values. Yet these low rents might also associate to the low quality and maintenance
of local housing structures. A large portion of the housing structure dates prior
1950s and 1940s in certain sections of the area.
60
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Table 5: Housing Value, Gross Rent, and Year Structure Built
Study Site LA City LA County US
Median value of single family homes
(dollars)
172,700 221,600 209,300 119,600
Median rent (dollars) 540 672 704 519
Gross rent as a percentage of household
income in 1999
35 percent or more 44.0 37.1 35.8 35
Year Structure Built (% of Total Housing
Units)
1960 to 1969 15.9 17.5 17.8 12.5
1940 to 1959 24.2 33.5 34.5 18.3
1939 or earlier 30.4 16.7 12.9 13.6
Overall, all these figures give a sense of the socio-economic and
demographic characteristics of my study site compared to the Los Angeles City and
County and the nation. Yet each social group in this site is also embedded in
different social and spatial relations, which might not be apparent by these figures.
These relations evolve along with the changes in social, economic, and political
conditions of broader urban scales, including of Los Angeles City. In Los Angeles,
local relations of race, class, and space have changed due to the recent national and
international political economic conditions (Soja 1989; Davis 1992). The County
and City of Los Angeles have experienced this process in a complex way. As a
manufacturing leader, Los Angeles has experienced both deindustrialization and also
uneven reindustrialization depended mostly on Latino immigrants (Ong and
Blumenberg 1992; Waldinger and Bozorgmehr 1996). The immigration from
Mexico, Central America and many parts of Asia provided a big supply for low wage
labor in the county and the city. That contributed though partially to
reindustrialization. Between 1970 and 1990, the Latino population in Los Angeles
County increased by more than two million people and has reached over
61
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
4,2400,000, according to U.S. Census Bureau. Today Latinos have the highest
poverty rate in the city. Black population has a sizable middle class, but also many
are in poverty because of both low wages and high rates of unemployment among
them.
All of these also associate to changes in spatial relations. The socio-spatial
patterns of Los Angeles get more heterogeneous. After 1970s, new enclaves of
Latino immigrants scattered in neighborhoods all over the Los Angeles City, rather
than only in the old east-side Latino communities. They moved, first, to the
southeast of downtown—including my study site—and industrial towns such as
Vernon and Huntington Park, and then to old African American neighborhoods of
South Central Los Angeles and Watts (Hoffman 2003). As much as its proximity to
downtown, my study site is also part of South Central Los Angeles—or South Los
Angeles, as it is called since April 2003 (see Chapter 3). In highly segregated nature
of Los Angeles, South Central was mostly with African American population. In
1980s, according to census data, 68 percent of the population of South Central LA
was African American. Twenty years later, this figure dropped to 38 percent
whereas the Latino population increased to 54 percent.
Mainly two events influence the approaches of non-profit and community-
based organizations to South Central LA. One of them is this flood of immigrants
since 1980s. With increasing number of multiple non-white groups in some areas,
the arrival of newcomers was so quick that too few agencies were present to deal
with the problems of poverty and unfamiliarity of new cultures (M. Jackson 1996;
Von Hoffman 2003). In areas that lost African American population, black leaders
faced challenges with ministering newcomers of different backgrounds and cultures.
The 1992 LA Riots is the other impact on such kind of organizations in South
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Central LA. After the riots, the leaders of organizations started focusing mostly on
the emerging manufacturing and small scale jobs in South Central LA. All these
trends also suggest that traditional black/white paradigms for understanding inter
racial and inter-ethnic dynamics are loosing their significance.
Organizational Profile of the Area
All these influence grassroots efforts for community organizing in my study
area too. Yet certain features of my study site make these efforts more diverse than
they might be in other parts of South Central LA and in Los Angeles at large. One of
these features is the presence of a private university (USC) in the area, as stated
above. Besides its physical expansion into adjacent residential areas and its growing
number of students and staff, the University is the largest private employer in the
city. Another characteristic of this site is its proximity to the downtown of Los
Angeles. Today the downtown has low- and high-income generating jobs and recent
urban development projects. In 1990s, projects like the Staples Center, and in 2000s,
the Disney Hall and on-going urban revitalization projects for commercial and
residential uses are results from the renewed interests in downtown and in its
transportation arteries such as the Figueroa Street that runs through my study site.
Another feature of the site relates to the characteristics of its local housing stock.
This area has affordable—mostly rental—houses for low income population, and is
one of the densest areas with its historic-cultural structures in the Los Angeles City.
All these shape the kind of community organizing efforts in this area.
Besides the neighborhood associations, residents in my study area get involved in
local churches, parent-teacher associations, labor unions, a few local community
development organizations or non-local organizations that emphasize local economic
development or historic preservation. The kind and level of organizing and
63
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
networking among these community-based organizations differs. Members of
neighborhood associations, for instance, mostly focus on crime and safety issues and
on physical upkeep of their area. These associations are solely resident-based groups
whose organizers and beneficiaries are the same local residents. Other organizations
are staff-based entities that mostly work with their local beneficiaries. They seek
producing affordable housing projects for working poor and elderly, creating local
job opportunities, and improving community health conditions including conditions
of the physical environment. Recently, they also work on tenant-rights, eviction and
gentrification threats, or workers’ wage- and living standards.
In order to improve social and human capital within their area, some of these
local organizations have networks among themselves, with public agencies, and
especially with some local schools, health clinics, and churches. Community health
is a recent issue around which such local collaborations rise. These collaborations
consider housing standards, family health and child care, and psychological,
financial and other kind of barriers to gain access to health services as important
issues to community health. Meanwhile, related or not with these issues, non-local
organizations too provide additional platforms for local organizing efforts at this
area. As I detail in Chapter Seven, these are the West Adams Heritage Association
that focus on historic preservation in West Adams District, Figueroa Corridor
Partnership on economic development, and Figueroa Corridor Coalition for
Economic Justice on community and economic development.
The administrative boundaries are another aspect of organizational and
institutional profile of this site. Interestingly, my study site encompasses parts of
three different city council districts. For local residents, besides the local police
stations, the office of their city council district is one of the main public agencies to
64
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
make contact with, if they have concerns or demands regarding to quality of urban
services. Three city council districts have boundaries in the area. These are the City
Council District 1, 8, and 9. Also, during my research, neighborhood councils all
over the Los Angeles City were forming according to the City Charter Reform in
2000. Now a large portion of my study site is within the boundaries of a
neighborhood council, whereas another portion is by another neighborhood council.
Yet at the time of my research, they were still with less certain boundaries for
resources and responsibilities in creating their community space. Meanwhile, the
local historic preservation districts at my site—or Historic Preservation Overlay
Zones, (HPOZs), as called in Los Angeles City—already have clear boundaries in
this sense. As detailed in Chapter 4 and 7, my study site has two out of nine historic
preservation zones in the city. Each zone has a local citizenry board that advises the
city administration on building and construction permits related to local historic
houses.
Neighborhood Associations (NAs) in My Study Site
The census data at zip code level2 2 shows that this is basically a poor and
working class community with people of color, mostly Hispanic population. Yet the
information at the census tract level reveals that this area is mixed in terms of class,
race and ethnicity, family structures, housing types, and other socio-spatial
characteristics. Also, the geographic distribution of NAs in the area shows itself as
their concentration in certain census tracts. The census tracts with and without NAs
emerge as the “zones” whose certain socio-economic and spatial characteristics are
different than the data at zip code level and at each “zone.” These characteristics are
the percentage of homeownership, of 1-unit detached housing units, and of houses
22 The zip code area 90007.
65
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
built before 1940s2 3 , whereas the percentage of racial and ethnic groups and income
groups in each zone varies. Each zone also has its own development pressures,
usually related to the University. As detailed in Chapter 4 and 5, the census tracts to
the north and west of the campus are more vulnerable to the University’s growth
than the others.
At my study site, I identify four zones—or clusters—of census tracts with
differing socio-spatial characteristics given above. In Zone I2 4 , the impact of the
University is visible both in its current population and housing characteristics. The
percentage of the number of renters in this zone is higher than the area percentage at
zip code level. This includes student-renters sharing apartment units or townhouses.
Mostly students, the percentage of white population in this zone is higher than the
area percentage. This zone has a considerable number of the University-owned
housing structures and a high percentage of historical houses. Most renter-occupied
housing units are built between 1950s and 1980s when the University was expanding
vigorously. Nearly 50 percent of the local owner-occupied housing units date back
to earlier than 1940s. This zone is with no NAs.
In Zone II2 5 , the homeownership rate is nearly four times higher than the area
average at zip code level. The percentage of 1-unit detached housing structures and
the average household size too are above the area average. One third of the total
number of houses in this zone dates back to early 1940s. Yet in some census tracts,
the percentage of such houses—especially the owner occupied units—are higher
than this figure too. Also, the north section of this zone is within the boundaries of
23 I give the percentage o f buildings dated earlier than 1940s, since mostly these buildings in the area are
considered potentially to have a historic value.
24 These are the census tracts 2218,2219, and 2247.
25 Census Tracts 2216, 2222, 2221, and 2226.
66
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
one of the historic preservation districts in the city. This zone has various NAs that
are active more than 10 years, whereas at the time of my research new ones too
emerged mostly in this zone. From the south to the north of this zone, the
concentration of racial and ethnic groups varies. The south section of the zone has
mostly African American population. This is the section where the number of
university students as local renters increases. The percentage of Hispanic population
increases to the north. At the north section, the percentage of white population is
higher than at zip code level.
Just to the north of Zone I is Zone III, as shown on the map2 6 . It houses
mostly Hispanic working class families with young kids, and to its west, the
percentage of the elderly over 55 years old is higher than the area average. The west
section of this zone is with no NAs that I am aware of. The east section, however,
has two active NAs and housed another one before it was dissolved recently. The
homeownership rate in this section is slightly above the area average. It has mostly
apartment buildings and large historic houses rearranged with multiple rental units,
whereas the percentage of the detached 1-units in this zone is below the area average.
Also the percentage of the houses dated prior-1940s is nearly 40 percent, which is
above the area average. The well-known Doheny Mansion and the campus of Saint
Mount Mary’s College, and historic churches like Saint Vincent’s and Saint Philip’s
are also located in this section. Since a decade, this section also has an increasing
number of student-renters in different race and ethnicities.
My study area also includes a few census tracts2 7 just to the east of the Harbor
Freeway, which I call Zone IV on the map. In this zone, the section along the
26 Census Tracts 2217,2244.10, 2244.20
27 CT 2240, CT 2246, and some part o f 2267.
68
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
freeway has rental apartment buildings with 4 to 20 units and also buildings for light
manufacturing. The percentage of detached single units is at the area average. This
section has no NAs. However, the east section of this zone has two NAs that I got in
touch with. Mostly Hispanic and very few African American working class families
are dominant in this zone. The homeownership rate in this zone reflects the area
average, as does the percentage of homes built prior to the 1940s.
PART 2. RESEARCH METHODOLOGY
I collected the data for this case study in a 15-month period started in early
2002. In-depth interviews with NA members and with the staff of local churches,
schools, and of community organizations for housing and economic development
constitute the primary source of data for this study. For the reasons I explained
earlier, I initiated my research in the neighborhood I live in. Yet being a single
student who lives nearby the campus, I did not have any neighborly ties that I could
use in getting in touch initially with local activists. Thus, I made contact with
representatives of two local community organizations and of a local church in early
2002. Although I did not suggest any specific issue or type of local community
organization at the time, these representatives provided me with the names of three
members—all women—of different NAs.
The contact names these members and later others provided me with
developing my list of interviewees. A large portion of this list encompasses the
members of four types of community organizing groups in this area: neighborhood
associations, community and economic development organizations, parent-teacher
associations, and faith-based organizations. Identifying different types of grassroots
groups in this geographical proximity was a step for me to re-identify my study
group. Rather than all, I decided to focus only on one type of groups. I chose
69
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
NAs as the primary group for this study because they are with more and relatively
regular resident-members than the other groups at my study site. These NAs are
resident-based groups whose organizers and beneficiaries are the same local
residents. Other organizations are mostly staff-based entities with local
beneficiaries.
Ultimately, later I interviewed primarily with members of all local NAs,
which totaled to ten at the time of this research2 8 . These interviewees constitute the
primary source of data for this study. Except one2 9 , all NAs are active in the area for
more than 10 years. Almost all NA members are local homeowners in different
groups of class, race and ethnicity, gender, and other social characteristics. These
NA members mostly focus on crime and physical upkeep of their areas.
Also, I had in-dept interviews with staff of local churches, schools, and of
other community organizations in order to evaluate critically my interviews with NA
members. As stated above, these organizations’ efforts for community organizing
identify community issues differently than those by NAs. Tenant-rights, eviction
and gentrification threats, community health issues, kids’ education, or workers’
wage and living standards are some of the main issues for these organizations. My
interviews with these staff focus mainly on the history of local community issues at
and the institutional and organizational profile of my study site.
Another step in re-identifying my study group was the inclusion of male local
activists into my list of interviewees. At the initial stage of the research, my focus
was on women residents’ activism in their neighborhood. The literature usually
explains women’s motivations for local activism in respect to their responsibilities in
28 During my research, two new associations emerged in the area. But I did not include them into this
study.
29 At the time o f my research, that NA was active already for three years.
70
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“domestic space,” that is, the physical and social space that is centered at home and
in residential areas. Also most accounts focus solely on women when they talk about
the relations between domestic space and reasons for community activism. Thus,
when I found out that a considerable number of local men in my study site too get
involved in NAs in their neighborhood, I extended my list of interviewees and
interviewed with them. Consequently, I interviewed 34 female and male members of
NAs, and 40 staff of other community organizations and groups.
The in-depth interview questions with NA members develop around these
themes: (i) their reasons for and activities at their involvement in NAs and other
organizations; (ii) their history of political activism, their history in other settlements
including their community history, and their migration story, if applicable; (iii) their
socio-structural characteristics including family and paid-job responsibilities, and
their job history; and (iv) their perception of community and neighborhood issues in
relation to their sense of their own social identity related to class, race, ethnicity,
gender, and other relations. Unlike survey techniques, such in-depth interviews
provide the researcher with new insights into the processes of community building in
a multicultural neighborhood. My interview results describe how different visions of
neighborhood and “quality of residential life” become politicized around residents’
personal, familial, and communal issues. They tell the grassroots but also
institutional efforts for local community building. They also reveal numerous—and
mostly unrecognized—viewpoints of residents on failed and successful ways of
community organizing for neighborhood development and for local governance at
large.
I also used my participant observations of community meetings, content
analysis of newspaper articles and documents of NAs and other organizations, and
71
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
comparative analysis of census data to explore the significance of these interviews.
My continuing attendance at the community meetings at various NAs and
organizations allowed me to understand various perceptions of community issues.
These meetings also showed the ways in which the activists work within the
conflicting power relations and community interests at various issues. Analysis of
relevant newspaper articles, organizational documents, and census data helped me
put the analysis of interviews and observations in a larger context.
I audio-recorded and transcribed all interviews. I also took field notes in my
participatory observations in community meetings and in other incidents or events
related to my study site or to groups I was in touch with. Rather than having
sequential stages between interviews, transcriptions, or analysis of interviews and
producing briefs for my dissertation chapters—and thus, waiting to complete a stage
in order to move on to another one—I tried to have progress in all simultaneously.
This strategy kept me motivated without boredom or frustrations of doing the same
thing, and also in touch with my interviewees until I shifted totally to writing stage in
summer of 2003. Until I finished the first draft as “a draft” in mid-spring of 2004,1
was not able to see all my study findings and other pieces of the puzzle together.
That draft allowed me to share my study findings with my dissertation committee.
That stage provided me with the opportunity for rewriting the conceptual framework
and the conclusion of this study, and restructuring other chapters until the end of
summer 2004.
Some readers of this study might think that a Turkish woman studying local
community-based organizations within a diverse area of Los Angeles is odd,
72
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
especially considering that none of my interviewees are Turk. In the very early
stages of my research ideas—mostly looking for such similarities between the
researcher and her/his interviewees—some suggested me developing my study on
Turkish immigrant women in Germany. Financial difficulties of doing a field work
out of the States at the time made me to look at a research subject in Los Angeles.
Meanwhile, similar opinions were suggesting me doing research on Iranian
(Moslem) women in LA, mostly paying attention on my background as a Moslem
woman. Although not explicitly told at the time, these opinions might be also
considering that interviewing local residents in the US in early 2002 would be a
challenge to a non-American Moslem woman, especially because of on-going social
turbulent just after the 9/11 incident. At least I myself did have similar concerns and
uncertainties of not knowing how my interviewees would react to a woman with a
non-American accent and with a Moslem name.
Despite all these valid concerns at the time, my research experiences at my
study site was very encouraging, especially because of the welcoming attitudes of
my interviewees. As I introduced myself and this study to these interviewees, I did
not mention about my country of origin or any other characteristics of my social
identity. I introduced myself mainly as a USC student and the purposes of my
research as valid only for my student work. Some interviewees hesitated for giving
detailed answers only when they heard my affiliation with USC. This was mostly
because of their history of conflicts with USC on neighborhood issues, that I stated
above and detail later. But my persistence in listening them without giving any
biased comments but only asking short follow-up questions encouraged them for
getting comfortable with me as a USC student. After all, most of these interviewees
73
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
were already used to talk to various kinds of researchers, according to some
interviewees.
I did not get almost any questions about my private life. Some asked where I
am from. Some Latino interviewees immediately assumed that I am a Catholic and
even from Portugal whereas they relate my name to Virgin Fatima—a holy figure in
Catholicism and a common name in Portugal, according to these interviewees. Some
of them were surprised as they learned I am from Turkey and a Moslem. Mostly
looking at my outfit in jeans and t-shirts and without any scarf covering my hair,
they could not fit me into the stereotyped images of Moslem women in the
popularized media. My description of my social identity were limited to my
correction of their wrong assumption that Turkish people are Arabs, and to
explanations that Turks are an ethnic group by itself and that not all people in Turkey
are Turkish and not all Turkish people are Moslem. A few of the interviewees made
comments on current US foreign policies in the Middle East. Mostly concerned
about my safety, some asked how I am doing in my school environs, especially when
the war in Iraq started in spring 2003. Giving brief answers, I preferred to be an
“objective listener,” that is, I mostly tried to focus on my research questions without
inserting any details about myself or my ideas into the flow of the conversations with
my interviewees.
Another question that I got from some interviewees was about what I am
going to do with this research and how relevant this subject is in my country. I told
them that grassroots organizations like theirs in Turkey are not as widely as common
in US, and my research might provide me with different view points of those in
Turkey. In the eye of most of these interviewees, this answer put me as a student not
only from USC but also from another country who tries to learn a part of the
74
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
American culture. That made most of my interviewees to be more generous with
sharing their knowledge and experiences than they would be with any American
student, I believe, despite its risks for wrongly representing Turkey without any civil
society organizations.
75
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 3
COMMON MOTIVATIONS FOR PARTICIPATING IN
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS: Identifying Home-Place through
Community Work
Either by neighboring or by participating in local voluntary groups, such as
neighborhood associations (NAs), residents get involved in their communities. In
general, their primary reason for community involvement is to improve the quality of
their residential life. As a collective effort, however, the reasons for involvement in
local groups are more complicated. Residents get involved in NAs when they
perceive some issues as a threat to their home and its surroundings. These threats
emerge when residents think that the physical and social condition of their actual
environs do not match what they expect from and envision for that space. To
maintain or improve the conditions of this shared space according to their
expectations, they become involved in NAs with other dwellers of that space.
Ideally these resident-based voluntary groups provide individual residents with the
opportunity to work collectively on similar issues within the same geography.
This chapter and the following two chapters examine NA members’ reasons
for participating in their NA in my study area. In this chapter, I point out
commonalities within these reasons with respect to NA members’ sense of local
activism to improve or maintain their “home” surroundings. The following two
chapters explain differences in members’ motivations which correspond to their
standings in social and place-based relations. These three chapters treat as central
the NA members’ perceptions of their neighborhood and of their everyday urban
76
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
experiences are their reasons for participating in NAs. Some literatures explore such
perceptions and residents’ motivations for local activism in a discrete manner. They
argue that their certain socio-economic characteristics, such as homeowner status,
income level, or family responsibilities, are driving them to activism. Contrary to
this, I argue the importance of understanding these perceptions within the context of
members’ social and place-based relations. Members’ social standings across social
realms and also their neighborhood’s economic and social standing within broader
urban context shape these perceptions.
To explain how residents’ perceptions of problems influence their motivation
for participating in NAs, these chapters focus on motivations with respect to
members’ relationships to “home” and its surroundings. This theme emerged during
my fieldwork and in interviews with NA members. One commonality among all
these members is that almost all are homeowners. Most are first-time homebuyers or
became homeowners when they inherited their houses. Being homeowners in the
same residential area, however, is one of the few commonalities shared by NA
members. They differ in class, race and ethnicity, gender, immigrant status, family
structure, age, property relations, and other characteristics. Thus, explanations of
their motivations that consider only homeownership status would be incomplete.
Jane, for instance, is a homeowner and one of these NA members. She is an
African American working class woman. She was bom and raised in the
neighborhood in which she currently lives. At the age of 17, she got married and
moved out to another neighborhood of Los Angeles. Her parents as homeowner kept
living here. In 1991, nearly 30 years later, she came back as a single parent with two
teenage kids. She says that “my (widowed) mom got sick; I came back to take care
77
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
of her. . . in 1991. She passed away in 1992, so I just kept out.” Jane inherited the
house.
Mostly because she was invited to, Jane attended a couple of block club
meetings on her street. At that time she was still employed in a non-profit
organization. After a while she was laid off and unemployed. Her visits to block
club meetings became more regular at that point, motivated as well by her increasing
safety concerns in the neighborhood. Jane explains her reasons for getting involved
in the block club in terms of the meanings she attaches to her home:
One of the most shocking things that was . . . since I grew up here...
And I came (back) to my mother’s home, and I heard gun-shots in my
neighborhood. That was... That made me angry. That literally made
me angry. I could not get my neighborhood. Yeah, just do, be part of
it, help things, do. You know, my parents had been always active in
social things. . . . They were always civic and community minded.
So it leaves me, you know. It’s a good moral for us. I just started
doing it. I keep my part because, you know, it has to be generational
thing.
Tensions between Jane’s newfound safety concerns and her memories of her
neighborhood as a safe and protected place motivated her to become involved. The
fact that she owned her own home, spent relatively more time at home after losing
her job, was the single parent of teenage kids, and had an existing block club made
up of members concerned about similar issues, encouraged her involvement as well.
Overall, the meanings she attaches to her home and to reasons for her involvement
are not limited to the physical space of that dwelling. These meanings evolve with
relation to her dwelling’s physical, social and economic space and to her position
within social relations across multiple realms.
Both the literature and staff members of local community organizations in my
study area, however, suggest a causal relationship between being a middle-class
homeowner and participating in local associations with place-based issues, such
78
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
as a NA. In Part One of this chapter, I examine these common presumptions which
tend to approach NA members’ motivations as being closely related to their self-
interests as middle class homeowners. Thus, this reasoning relates members’
motivations to only a few of their social characteristics, that is, their status as middle
class homeowners. Here and in the following chapter, I describe the problems
inherent in these and similar approaches which treat the social characteristics
independently of one another and then explain motivations of members only based
on these characteristics. My approach suggests examining residents’ perceived
place-based relations as the primary motivation for community involvement.
Part Two introduces some of these perceptions of NA members and describes
the common features of residents’ motivations for becoming involved in NAs. I
explain these common features basically with respect to members’ perceptions of
threats to their home and surroundings. As previously stated, the mismatch between
what residents expect and the actual conditions of their neighborhood is what drives
members into local activism. They define their activism as a non-discretionary
work. Also each member develops a sense of physical and social space in which
they perform their community work, which I call home-place. Moreover, as a
collective entity, these NA members draw and name their NA boundaries, and
engage with locals and non-locals in urban politics to pursue their issues. As
residents of “South Central Los Angeles,” they contest the stigmatized designation of
their area and engage in urban politics to actively determine the terms under which
they and their locality engage in broader economic and political systems. Based on
these common features, this chapter argues that rather than approaching placed-based
issues narrowly, NA members relate their issues to broader social and economic
issues of urban space.
79
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
PART 1: REPRESENTATIVENESS OF NAs AND THEIR ISSUES
Neighborhood associations (NAs) are resident-based local grassroots
organizations. NA members seek to mobilize their local residents to join their NA
and to organize them around certain common issues. Community organizing efforts
at the neighborhood level is not unique to NAs, however. Various local and non
local organizations seek to organize the community around different objectives,
which I detail later. In general, the objectives of community organizing may range
from improving the physical infrastructure, such as housing and streets, to providing
social services like health care and education to underserved poor and often minority
populations, to gaining legitimacy and power for neighborhood decision-making
within the local political structure (Bailey 1974; Castells 1983; Fisher 1984).
Generally, NAs emphasize quality of life issues around their local interests,
or “place-based interests.” Residents usually find NAs to address a single issue. But
they might broaden their concerns as they become permanent organizations (Arnold
1979). Not every local community problem is an issue for NAs. The problems that
active NA members perceive as threatening their local interests become their NA’s
issues. They seldom address issues, such as employment opportunities, affordable
housing (Medoff and Sklar 1994), local education, economic development, and
poverty. Mostly their issues relate to crime and safety, land use, and life-style, such
as the conditions of a neighborhood’s housing, its reputation, its cleanliness and
beautification, its noise level, its appearance and architectural standards, and the
types of people who live there. It is not that they do not consider the former as
important issues. But they focus on the latter as issues that they can address
successfully related to their local interests (Rabrenovic 1996).
80
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
In my study area, too, neighborhood safety issues, raised mostly by gang and
drug-related activities, are the issues NAs seek to address. NA members also
acknowledge the mutual benefits of creating safe and “clean” living environments
and of increasing property values by, for instance, closing local liquor stores and
cleaning trash and graffiti in public and private properties. For some groups of
residents, the preservation of historic houses is another important motivation for
participation. This is the main motivation in some NAs.
Whose Issues?
Some common assumption about NAs is that their place-based issues are not
concerned with low income and working class residents but only middle-class
homeowners. One reason for this conception is that the research literature focuses
mostly on homeowners associations, whereas public views refer to both NAs and
homeowners associations interchangeably (M. Davis 1992). NAs are different than
homeowners associations. Generally, the latter has mandatory and only homeowner-
based membership. Most of them provide amenities within their clear-cut physical
boundaries. They usually have a governing structure that regulates and monitors the
maintenance of social and physical environments within these boundaries. However,
most NAs in my study area, like most NAs in general, depend on urban public
services. They have voluntary membership open to all residents (including tenants)
within their suggested geographical boundaries. Within these boundaries, NA
members might and do live next to non-members with various tenure characteristics.
These boundaries define NAs’ action areas for their maintenance and improvement
work. When members pool their resources to improve local services, all residents
benefit, regardless of their membership.
81
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Still, similar assumptions are common among the staff of some local
organizations in my study area. Local churches, PTAs, labor unions, local
community organizations, and other non-local organizations for economic
development or historic preservation actively seek to organize local residents around
various issues. These assumptions suggest the same fixed relationships between the
issues addressed by NAs and NA members’ social characteristics: “too narrow” and
“middle class” concerns. The staff point out that the majority of local residents are
low income and working poor and argue that NAs’ place-based issues are
unrepresentative of the majority’s issues in my study area.
To describe how these NAs are unrepresentative, they underline especially
NA members’ status as “middle class homeowners.” Although NAs accept all
residents, all members are local homeowners regardless of their class, race and
ethnicity, age, and gender. Similar to some research (Rabrenovic 1996), these staff
members argue that NAs attract “more middle-class homeowners than poor tenants
in this area.” They explain this argument with respect to the kinds of issues that NAs
deal with, and to the personal resources that residents are able to pool for
participating in voluntary organizations. Jackie, the Director of WARD, explains:
If a person who doesn’t have a lot of stationary time, he’s gonna
choose between organizing Local 357 (a labor union) or going to
block club and talk about tree stuff (emphasis added). They are going
to 357. It is either/or. People have to make decisions based upon their
life. So if the issue is because number of people working in USC and
they believe USC is not, does not have the labor procedures, they
have to choose between union hall and neighborhood block club.
That’s the power; that is the resources for their family. If instead
someone has to make decisions between the local block club and the
82
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
school, where children are, they are more than likely gonna choose
the school.
Jackie suggests that residents commit their resources to associations whose issues are
the most important to them. Relating place-based issues of NAs mostly to physical
and aesthetic issues, such as “tree stuff,” she tells that these are not a priority for
majority of local residents. She is not the first or only person among the staff of
organizations to trivialize NAs’ issues as unrepresentative of the area. She and other
local community organizations are working for poor and low-income people of
color, mostly Latino and African Americans, regardless of their tenure
characteristics. They prioritize local economic development by creating job
opportunities, affordable housing, living wage standards, or health care. They
separate NAs’ issues from their own organizational issues and consider them to be
irrelevant to their beneficiaries, which includes the majority of local residents.
This argument approaches differences in class interests as determining
residents’ motivations and capacities for participating in voluntary groups. It also
takes tenure characteristics and income level as the determinants of class differences.
From this point of view, only those with ‘middle class homeowner-interests’
participate in NAs. Such a perspective, first, homogenizes both the issues and the
membership characteristics of NAs and of other organized efforts. Second, it
maximizes some aspects of class and minimizes differences and commonalities
among residents’ other social characteristics, such as race and ethnicity, immigrant
status, or family structure.
In contrast to this argument, however, most NA members in my study explain
their homeownership status as an important but not the only reason for becoming
involved in local activism in their place of residence. The stories of their
involvement point out that neither their reasons nor NAs’ issues are separate from
83
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
other socio-economic issues, which are dealt with by other local grassroots
organizations. To examine members’ reasons for their involvement, in the following
section I describe my approach as a critic of the conventional understandings of the
relationship between “home” and residents’ inclinations for participating in local
associations. This approach is relevant for the following chapter (Chapter 4) as well.
“Home” and the Inclinations for Participating in NAs
Homeownership and Local Activism
The majority of NA members in my study area are local homeowners. Given
that the majority of local residents in this area are tenants (88% of total population),
it is not surprising that many perceive NA members and place-based issues as non
representative of majority of locals and as self-interested. In addition, associating
activism in local groups only with homeowners certainly is not unique to the staff of
these local organizations. The literature too suggests that middle class residents and
local homeowners are more inclined to get involved in local organizations than poor
and low-income and tenants (Baum and Kingston 1984; Cox 1982; Steinberger
1981). Some approaches take homeownership status as the driving motivation for
participation. They suggest that homeowners have a higher stake in the
neighborhood than tenants with respect to the economic values of their homes.
According to this perspective, homeowners are interested in economic and social
values while renters are concerned only with the social values of the home (Logan
and Molotch 1987). That explains homeowners’ relatively longer stay in the
neighborhood and higher participation in volunteer associations. Yet research
comparing community involvement by both owners and renters, as well as the
importance of economic and social values to owners’ involvement, finds mixed
84
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
results (Fischer et al. 1977). Homeownership by itself does not necessarily increase
participation in voluntary organizations (Cox 1982).
In my study, too, economic values attached to the home are not the sole
reason explaining residents’ participation in NAs3 1 . Some members say that their
stay in the neighborhood and their activism are not necessarily because of their
strong willingness to do so. Despite certain neighborhood problems, they cannot
move out because of the affordability of their house, no matter whether it is a non-
historic single-family home or a historic mansion. The market value of their home
will not cover the costs of a new house with similar amenities and square footage,
given the increasing housing prices and shortage of affordable housing for low- to
middle-income people in Los Angeles. Ultimately, not being able to move to a better
neighborhood, these members feel they need to improve the quality of life in their
neighborhood as long as they stay there. Their concerns about the transaction costs
of moving out to another area strongly influence their intentions to stay and get
involved in community activism (Cox 1982)3 2 .
Motivations and Perceived Social and Place-based Relations
In this and the following two chapters, I argue that concerns of members as
homeowners are only part of their reasons for becoming involved in NAs. Not
simply their status as homeowners but their perceptions of this status in relation to
30 Pointing out the high percentage o f homeowner-members in such kind o f voluntary associations, some
studies and policy makers might have the temptation to conclude that homeownership increases participation in
voluntary organizations. At the extreme, this might suggest that providing people with homes will increase their
political involvement.
31 Here rather than looking at what kinds o f housing tenure motivate residents to become involved in the
community, the purpose o f this chapter is to examine stories o f homeowners regarding their involvement in
associations. Studies based on wider population samples than my study would point out also other associated
factors such as the length o f stay, and account for families with kids in addition to the types o f housing tenure.
32 This alternative explanation makes clear the reasons for the stability for some owners. Moreover, “the
option for relocation as opposed to activism affects homeowners rather differently from the way it does renters.
For the homeowner, transaction costs may be (more) considerable” than for the renters (Cox 1982: 118).
85
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
their other and their neighborhood’s social and economic relations influences their
decisions to act. Yet in understanding the intrinsic nature of these social and also
spatial relations, most approaches to urban studies3 3 consider social characteristics
and issues of neighborhood activists in a compartmentalized and hierarchical
manner. In explaining residents’ motivations for local activism with respect to their
relation to “home,” each approach emphasizes a category rather than the interplay of
multiple categories.
As stated above and in Chapter 1, one approach explains residents’ tenure
characteristics as the determinant for activism, and relates their interests to class-
interests. Considering individual attributes primarily within a social class analysis,
this approach grants secondary importance to race and ethnicity relations and usually
ignores gender relations. Another approach, including most feminist works in urban
politics, criticizes the dominancy of class analyses in urban politics. It argues that
social categories of ethnicity, race, and gender generate new patterns of political
participation. However, some of these empirical studies relate motivations for
activism mostly to social and domestic values, such as “motherhood,” and interpret
them as gender interests, especially in the example of working class women and
women of color. Overall both approaches have a tendency to consider a single
characteristic of local activists and their motivations for participation as intrinsically
linked to each other. This results in stereotyped notions of the relationship between
participants and motivations, and a fixed notion of a ‘sense of place’ for individuals
who share that specific social characteristic.
I argue that besides their status as homeowner, NA members’ standings in
social and place-based relations influence their inclinations for becoming involved in
33 I include here the human ecology and political economy approaches to urban space, the literature on
neighborhood activism, as well as feminist approaches to women’s community activism.
86
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
NAs. From this perspective, a single social characteristic, such as homeowner status,
cannot adequately explain residents’ perceptions of problems or why they become
involved. Also, being a homeowner, tenant, or landlord is not a relationship between
a person and an object but a social relationship (Marcuse 1970). Second,
homeownership as a social relationship interrelates to members’ other social and
place-based relations. Interplays of individuals’ social relations across multiple
realms of society result in individuals’ social standings in webs of power relations.
Chapter 1 describes these as individuals’ social relations. Also their social standings
influence their everyday local experiences and their access to resources and quality
of life issues in that locale. I call these relations that are embedded within
individuals’ everyday urban experiences as their place-based relations. Third,
interplays of residents’ social and place-based relations shape their perceptions of
neighborhood issues. Their perceptions of problems influence their motivation for
participating in grassroots associations (Cox 1982). In sum, how individuals
perceive and internalize their social and place-based relations influences their actions
and, if any, motivations for becoming involved in NAs.
PART 2. COMMUNITY WORK IN HOME-PLACE
Local residents have different visions for the quality of residential life in their
neighborhood. They continuously negotiate and redefine these visions through their
urban experiences (Lefebvre 1991) and through their daily contacts with local
residents and public and private agencies. Through these practices, neighborhoods
appear as shared spaces in which individuals’ actions and interests impact others in
the same locale. In economic terms, a neighborhood is a commodity in which
“consumption” by one person depends upon activities of others in that neighborhood.
87
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
In other words, “their consumption entails an important degree of publicness” (Cox
1982:124).
Especially in neighborhoods undergoing rapid demographic changes, like
those in my study area, residents frequently deal with the question of this “degree of
publicness.” For instance, according to Norman—an association member—some
changes are “inevitable” in my study area because it has subdivided housing units
that accommodate both transitory working poor communities and student groups
today. Living in such neighborhoods, he thinks, requires accepting some changes but
not all. Norman explains:
(There is) certain thing in every neighborhood that gets develop. . . .
Some people don’t want to change long, long time and say “Em not
changing the way I’m living according to anybody feel.” . . . But
there is things you do have to change for in that... The neighborhood
might be upgraded, you may not be able to get away with some of the
things you used to do, (like) picking the trash that I did last week and
before. Number of tilings, you may not be able to get away with. That
change is inevitable to me. What change is not inevitable, which
people do, (is to) move away from neighborhood because that’s just
getting too noisy, too many students, too many trash around. I’m
prepared to fight that issue, because I don’t think this building
[pointing to the adjacent building with students tenants] is gonna
make me lose my quality of life. I’m not gonna let some idiots keep
me awake at 2 (or) 3 in the morning.
Here Norman identifies his notion of acceptable and unacceptable changes based on
his vision for residential life. Unacceptable changes for him, such as noise, student-
neighbors, and trash on streets, are threats to his vision. Some local residents might
also perceive such changes as threats to both their present and future interests in their
places of residence. Awareness of such threats makes residents change their actions
in that locale. If they want to and can, they can move out to another neighborhood.
Or they might stay and either ignore these threats or seek ways to deal with them.
Dealing with them might involve public agencies and/or grassroots efforts.
88
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Norman and most other NA members could not find any effective solutions through
formal institutions but only through working collectively.
Besides the perceived threats to their visions for their ideal neighborhood, all
NA members share a sense of their activism as a necessity to improve certain social
and physical conditions in the neighborhood, and even within broader economic and
political relations. Consequently, this sense of activism incorporates some of the
social and economic issues that other local organizations deal with. The following
sections describe other common features of NA members’ activism and, thus, their
motivations for getting involved in their NA. These relate to performing unpaid and
non-discretionary community work, developing a sense of home-place for their
community work, and claiming local community space both literally within the area
and symbolically to resist negative representations of this area.
What Constitutes Participation in NAs?: Community Work
Participation in NAs in my study area includes attending monthly meetings,
preparing or distributing informative flyers to neighbors, and communicating to
officials and to other “outsiders.” But a big portion of it includes daily work such as
cleaning trash and graffiti on local streets, keeping an eye out for any suspicious
people or activities on the streets, or calling city services to pick up bulky items that
are dumped by locals or non-locals on streets. The work that these women and men
do outside of their paid work hours and their homes but within their locality is
community work. It is the “maintenance work” of neighborhoods and local
communities (Milroy and Wismer 1994:72). It is separate from domestic and paid
work only by its taking place in a local community space and its aim to develop
shared understandings of neighborhood life in that locale. It is routine and endless
89
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
work. Members have to repeat the same, multiple tasks everyday3 4 . For instance,
Norman has been doing such work everyday for 12 years. He does not often attend
NA meetings but always does his daily community work. Because of his paid job as
a housekeeper in the neighborhood, he spends most of his time there. He describes
how he addresses a common problem in his neighborhood:
Tuesday there is no parking on this side of street because of cleaning
day. . . . [Between] 8am to 11am. [It was] 8.30am; none of the cars-
there were 8 cars in the street; none of them had been ticketed. So I
called the parking violations; “if you don’t ticket these people, they’ll
never have these streets empty for clean up.” And they were ticketed.
But it didn’t matter because street clean up came, and they were on
the street. Then I was back [home], and I was- Somebody got the
vacant lot clean. And there was loaded tires that had been dumped in
this lot, and the owner put them out on the street.. . . They have to be
picked up specially, because they’ve been considered hazardous
material. So I called the city services then, and last week again. They
came and picked them up. . . . Alleyways are big dumping grounds;
people don’t wanna pay for dumping fees. So they came down [to]
places like this, and they throw their trash and go away. And I saw
these guys dumping, and I got the license plate number. [Then] I did
manage to get [bulky trash items] in the alley cleaned up, and called
again the city services.
Norman’s and others’ community work is not voluntary work. They must perform
this work to live in their neighborhood with the conditions they want. His everyday
experiences in the neighborhood tell Norman that things might not get done unless
he does them himself. A few other neighbors might take care of these jobs
themselves, but local government does nothing unless residents ask repeatedly for
assistance. Thus, Norman works to maintain the quality of residential life he desires.
Community work is also political. Through their community work, NA
members collectively try to impact the present and future conditions of their
34 Yet this work has few rewards because it can take years to see the results. Like most members, George
says that “community problems are long lived; it takes years to take corrective measures done. It does not
happen in 6 months or 2 years.”
90
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
neighborhood. They work as organized groups to get local government to respond to
their local needs because they are aware that government’s responses to individual
requests are limited. They sign petitions, call government offices, get in touch with
other civil society organizations, and mobilize residents around their issues. They try
to impact public and private decision-making and actions related to their
neighborhood. In other words, they charge themselves politically around their
neighborhood issues.
These aspects also challenge conventional notions of home and neighborhood
as spaces of reproduction and non-productive work. Like most feminist works that
take into account the social construction of gender-differentiated activity (Markusen
1980; Milroy and Wismer 1994), I recast the activities in these spaces as unpaid
work. This brings attention to the invisible work of domestic spaces. Residential
areas are domestic workplaces with unpaid work. Homes and local streets are their
centers. From these centers, individuals organize their family roles and
responsibilities like child care and their community work like the maintenance of
street safety.
Space for Community Work: Home-place
NA members’ community work centers on their home and its surroundings.
So do their reasons for becoming involved in NAs. As detailed earlier, the literature
argues that “home” provides multiple interests that motivate its dwellers for
community involvement. These interests might relate to psychological and social
issues, such as a sense of security, privacy, feelings of rootedness and social
standings, or to economic interests attached to the location and material conditions of
homes like the property and home values, or to both. Regardless of kinds of values
attached to “home,” the notion of home might extend beyond the physical and
91
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
social boundaries of that actual dwelling. These boundaries might cover social
relations extending from front yards to the neighborhood to the city and even to the
region. They develop this understanding mostly through their community work.
Maria, for instance, is a Latina NA leader who is also involved in various grassroots
organizations at the city level. As a member of all these organizations, she gets in
touch with residents beyond her street and even neighborhood. Maria describes her
work beyond her housing block:
I walk all the way Alameda, 47th Street. I don’t know (that
neighborhood), and I feel good about knocking other’s doors. I
expect some people look at me, especially African American. They
look at me, like “What? What do you want?” I say “I am sorry; I don’t
want to bother you. But I’m a community volunteer. I’d like to know-
“ Then they start (saying) “The same thing happened to me, and blah
blah blah.” . . . (While talking) all their misery is pouring out. Then I
said, “Really? You know what you can do?” I end up telling them
what, how they can solve problems. “Did you hear the councilman
has a meeting that has the officer, they can help you with this
problem?” They say, “but they are not gonna help me.” I say, “Yeah,
of course they have to . . . because you have the right.. . . Do you
have a group or something here? That will help you too.” I forget
about what color this person was, I forget. She’s only my neighbor,
she’s my neighbor. So that’s my reward.
Similar stories of NA members reveal that members actively redefine the social and
physical territories of home whose conditions they want to maintain or improve.
Their daily community work improves their local knowledge and awareness of issues
and concerns common to other residents. This also includes an understanding of
how these issues relate to residents’ socio-economic conditions. Like Maria, these
members develop a sense of space in which they identify with other local residents
over issues and concerns that are approximate their own home environments.
92
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
I refer to this social and physical space, in which male and female activists do
their unpaid community work, as “home-place.”3 5 Distinct from the workplace, as
the site of paid employment, and from the home, as the site of unpaid domestic work,
home-place does not have any preconceived physical and social boundaries. This
suggests two related arguments. First, each activist’s community work continuously
redefines the boundaries of their home-place. How these activists identify
community issues impacts these boundaries. For some, home-place might be their
dwelling or block. For others, it might extend beyond local streets and include
people from a variety of social backgrounds (in terms of class, race, ethnicity and
gender). Within their lifetime of activism, activists’ urban experiences redefine new
boundaries for their home-place.
Second, this social and physical sphere with its unpaid work is not separate
from the other social realms with paid jobs and unpaid domestic work. Most
feminist empirical studies describe community work as a continuity of domestic
work (Pardo 1990; alternatively see Milroy and Wismer 1994; Naples 1998). They
also demonstrate that domestic work links to other labor processes and to economic
restructuring (McDowell and Massey 1984; Hondagneu-Sotelo 1994; Marston 2000).
Certain practices at home and in the community are translated into a resource as
women and men entertain paid employment options. Chapter Six also describes how
family and paid job responsibilities impact individual resources for community work.
Within this approach, the home appears as an important site for accommodating
changes in labor market. Parenting, mothering and other domestic activities are
integral to broader social and economic processes rather than isolated practices.
Moreover, feminist and non-feminist studies show that historically mostly women’s
35 See also Milroy and Wismer’s (1994) notion o f “Third Sphere.”
93
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
housekeeping responsibilities extended from the home into the local streets and
larger areas as community work, commonly referred to as “municipal housekeeping
responsibilities” (Baker 1989; Sivulka 1999).
Claiming Local Community Space: Identifying and Naming Territories
NAs develop discourses about the local community in order to claim a sense
of the quality of residential life and a sense of local community within certain
geographic boundaries. Most NAs boundaries in my study area do not overlap.
Thus, they do not have any territorial conflicts with each other. These boundaries,
which are reflected in the NAs’ names, usually do not have any official status. They
usually originate around initial members’ homes. NA members seek the attention of
residents and public institutions, as well as resources for their concerns within these
boundaries. These efforts deploy discourses of neighborhood visions, or
“community standards,” as most NA members in my study area suggest. These
discourses define local communities not only territorially but also morally. They ask
residents to be “responsible” by being “good neighbors,” by helping to maintain the
physical conditions of the neighborhood, and by not tolerating “illegal” and
“indecent” behavior in the area. These discourses represent the NA boundaries with
a single community that has a shared sense of the problems and issues affecting
residents within these boundaries.
Indeed, these acts of identifying and naming territories with geographic and
moral boundaries are part of the community building efforts of any institution and
organization. All these neighborhood efforts compete for resources, conflict or
collaborate around their perceived issues, and ultimately make claims for creating
their own community space within that locale. Especially if their boundaries
overlap, relationships between these collective efforts can get intense. As
94
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
described in Chapter Two, various organizations and institutions have overlapping
boundaries in my study area. Besides NAs, these include faith-based organizations,
parent-teacher associations, economic and community development or historic
preservation organizations, three council districts, and a private university3 6 . All
these acts of identifying and naming a place as their territory or “their neighborhood”
reflect the power relations in that urban space. In these contestations, residential
areas appear as a shared space in which NAs, along with various collective and
institutional agents, attach similar, different or competing meanings of community
space within that locale. Also, neither this shared space nor these local social agents
are isolated from the power relations embedded in broader urban spaces. In other
words, collective meanings and representations of this shared space evolve
dynamically not only within but also outside its boundaries.
In my study area, especially the adopted names reflect such power relations
that develop around the meanings of this area both within and outside its boundaries.
Some names related to this area might be controversial among some of my
interviewees. According to them, names like “University Park Neighborhood” and
“West Adams Historic District” refer only the University’s and preservationist-
homeowners’ interests, respectively, and do not represent majority of residents.
Only one name results in common reactions among all my interviewees: “South
Central” Los Angeles.
To all interviewees, “South Central LA” invokes the negative representation
of this area by “outsiders,” that is, the media and public and private institutions. The
36 The University o f Southern California’s main campus is another institution that makes claims for
community space in this area. The University visibly defines its “neighborhood outreach boundaries” with, for
instance, its patrolling security services, tram services to students living in the area, community outreach
programs including partnerships with local institutions and grants to community projects, by formally naming the
area as the “University Park Neighborhood,” a designation that is posted on city signs at the boundaries o f this
area.
95
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
following section discusses how, through their concern about the stigmatized
representations of South Central LA, my interviewees relate their place-based issues
to race, ethnicity, and class issues, and how these issues have more meaning than just
“tree-planting.”
Talking about “South Central” Los Angeles
To explain their reasons for participating in NAs, most interviewed members
explain that their neighborhood is part of “South Central” Los Angeles3 7 . Similar to
non-member interviewees, they say that public and private agencies have
discriminated against South Central LA by failing to make economic and social
investments in the area. Social and economic problems in the area are many and
include a lack of services for youth or groceries with healthy food, overcrowded
public schools, an abundance of liquor stores, a limited number of police officers,
red-lining practices of mortgage brokers and lenders, and the loss of well-paying jobs
resulting from such disinvestments. They also relate these disinvestments to
institutional discrimination and media images that demonize the area by describing it
only in terms of poverty, gangs, gun violence, drug dealing, and “dangerous” people
of color, mostly African Americans3 8 . Since the 1992 LA riots, the term “South
37 On city maps, South Central is bounded by Pico Boulevard to the north, Arlington and Van Ness
Avenues to the west, Interstate 110 and Figueroa Street to the east, and Century Boulevard and Interstate 105 to
the south.
38 Interestingly, when Hollywood events such as the Oscars or Grammy Award ceremonies take place in
the Shrine Auditorium just across the USC campus, the media refer this area as “Downtown Los Angeles,” or
even “Hollywood,” but not South Central LA.
96
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Central” has been code and a cultural trigger for the worst social ills and all negative
connotations about the city3 9 .
As I detail in Chapter Four, some NA members explain the reasons for lack
of services and of economic investments mainly by referring to majority of local
residents’ status either as working poor, or as people of color. The second view
especially emphasizes that South Central LA is a concrete example of how the lack
of economic investment in a place is a tool of institutionalized racism, or as some
call it, of “spatialized racism” (Pulido 1997). In discussing institutional
discrimination based on class or race and ethnicity, all my interviewees compare
South Central to other parts of Los Angeles City, especially to West Los Angeles.
They claim that other areas have police services or centers for youth and no
problems with any public services. This comparison suggests that their perception of
the services and investments in South Central is not unique to the city but to this
locale. They also make similar comparisons between their neighborhoods and other
parts of South Central LA. This helps them to differentiate their neighborhood, or
“around here,” from the “hard edge” of South Central where community problems
are “much tougher than here.”
The comments of NA members about South Central Los Angeles reflect,
first, how they relate place-based issues to broader social issues. In their talk about
their neighborhoods, NA members describe the particular social, economic and
political meanings associated with given territorial names, local public services and
39 South Central was not an official name or even a name referring to an area larger than the South
Central Avenue that is just outside o f the east boundary o f my study area. At the turn o f the 20th Century until
the 1940s, South Central Avenue was the cultural center o f the African American community in Los Angeles,
which is also still part o f some African American interviewees’ stories o f the area. After the end o f restrictive
covenants in the 1940s, many African American residents moved west toward the Crenshaw district. After these
moves, according to my interviewees, the name South Central has come to mean almost any area in southern Los
Angeles that has a black population. Today only 9% o f the total population in my study area is African
American. Also, and especially following the 1965 Watts riots and 1992 LA riots which took place in southern
Los Angeles, the name assumed negative connotations as described in the text.
97
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
problems, and similar and distinctive characteristics of other locales. They make
sense of all these meanings by comparing their area to other locales. In this area, all
these comparisons relate to the reputation of South Central Los Angeles. As detailed
in Chapter Four, members link their NA issues and their motivations for participating
in NAs to this reputation that is based on economic and social (including class- and
race-based) issues. They use comments about the neighborhood and South Central
LA as a medium for discussing wider issues, such as poverty, unemployment,
racism, and other kinds of institutionalized discrimination. Thus, in contrast to the
idea that NAs’ place-based issues are “too narrow,” the members’ approach these
issues as social issues common to certain communities defined by class, race and
ethnicity, and spatial locale.
Second, NA members identify negative representations of their area and
South Central LA in general as part of an attempt to reinforce the dominant power
relations in society. Such attempts to develop positive or negative reputations by
naming places and drawing territorial boundaries are meant to stabilize meanings of
places or “particular envelopes of space-time” (Massey 1994: 5). Powerful actors
and institutional patterns operate to name and represent places—and the people in
them—either by elevating them to a prestigious level, or denigrating them to a
marginal status within society, as in the case of South Central LA. This “power of
definition” over places and people (Western 1981: 8) works by maintaining,
describing, or defining certain forms of power through the discursive naming of
98
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
places into categories. Also, social agencies with this power develop strategies to
influence public policies and actions and, thus, competition for resources4 0 .
Third, those who are disempowered by such definitions might also use this
power. To counter the negative reputation of South Central LA, stigmatized local
residents use similar strategies. During my study in April 2003, for instance, a
community activist from South Central (but outside of my study area) appealed to
the City Council to change the name of South Central LA to “South LA.” The city
council voted unanimously for this change “in all city documents and streets signs—
the idea being to destigmatize an area that routinely carries every kind of negative
overtone in public debate, newspaper coverage and Hollywood films.”4 1 This might
be an extraordinary tactic. But NA members develop other daily tactics and perform
their “power of definition” through their community work to oppose this negative
representation of their area. They too identify and name their territories and seek
ways of promoting their area positively and gaining access to resources for
improving and maintaining their community standards within those boundaries.
With all these tactics and claims, they get involved in urban politics and influence
the power relations that impact their place of residence.
40 Especially the representation o f places and communities by the professions such urban planning have
impacted policies relevant to neighborhood planning and the community development literature which focuses
mostly on how planners envision or represent places and communities. See Silver (1985) and Talen (2000) for a
review o f urban planning’s approaches to the neighborhood as the locale for building communities through
physical planning. See also Liggett and Perry et al. (1995) for similar discussions o f city representations.
Finally, a large number o f historical studies reveal similar representations among policy makers in various urban
contexts. See, for instance, representation o f Chinatowns in various North American cities (Anderson 1991;
Shah 2001).
41 Independent News. 11 April 2003. See also the Los Angeles Times for similar coverage. While I was
writing this study, most media depictions already started to refer to this area as South Los Angeles. However,
since the name o f South Central Los Angeles along the meanings and connotations suggested earlier is still part
o f all activists’ social memories that impact their perceptions o f community issues, I consciously use this name
throughout this text.
99
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Identifying Home-Place through Community Work
Residents’ involvement in NAs is a way they attempt to change the
conditions of their neighborhood into those that fulfill their expectations or visions of
that space. Through their community work in their own identified home-places, NA
members pursue these visions. They define their perceived problems as community
issues within their NA boundaries. Their involvement in NAs raises awareness
among most members. They develop an awareness of their place-based self-interests
as related to others’ interests, and to the meanings attached to their residential area
within broader political and economic relations. As they engage with locals and
non-locals around these meanings, they get involved in urban politics through their
involvement in NAs. Within urban politics, they identify and name their NA
boundaries and claim their perceived problems as important community issues. All
these grassroots acts of claiming local community space and demanding a high
quality of life serve to define the terms in which neighborhoods are engaged in the
broader social and economic worlds.
100
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 4
DIFFERENCES IN MOTIVATIONS FOR PARTICIPATING IN
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS: Re-identifying Community
Problems
Sharing the same residential area does not make NA members in my study
area more likely to share similar visions for their home-place and motivations for
participating in NAs. In Chapter Three, I argue that members perceive threats to
their visions for their home-place as neighborhood problems, and that this motivates
them to become involved in NAs. I also detail common features of their motivations
with respect to their sense of the type of community work that they do and the social
and physical boundaries of this work, as well as their discourses of place-based
issues as a way to contest dominant power relations in urban space. Contrary to
conventional beliefs, I point out that their place-based issues are not “too local” but
inclusive of certain broader social and economic issues common to their locale.
In addition to these commonalities of their local activism, however, these NA
members also have differing reasons and motivations for participating in their NA.
This contrasts to the assumption that all NAs and their issues are identical. In this
chapter, I discuss these differences with respect to NA members’ perceptions of then-
own and local residents’ standings within social and place-based relations. These
members have different standings in power relations based on class, race and
ethnicity, gender, and other social characteristics. In addition, these social relations
influence members’ everyday experiences in their neighborhood. I refer to the social
relations that are embedded within individuals’ everyday urban experiences as their
101
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
place-based relations, as stated in Chapters One and Three. Members as local
residents give meaning to their neighborhood experiences in relation to their social
standings within that place, the compatibility of their social standings with majority
of residents, their identification with the past, present, and future meanings of that
place, and their interactions within the organizational and institutional contexts of the
residential area. Ultimately, differences in members’ relationships to social and
place-based relations result in different motivations for participating in NAs.
In my study area, the interplay of NA members’ social and place-based
relations might suggest various types of NAs. In this chapter, I identify and focus on
one kind of NA grouping. In the following chapter, I look at another. Looking at NA
members’ socio-economic characteristics, where they live in my study area, the
characteristics of their house, the formal status of their NA, their identification with
local histories, and their primary issues about the neighborhood, I identify two
groups of NAs in Part One of this chapter. The first is made up of middle class
homeowners of different races but mostly whites. For reasons detailed in the
following section, I call them NAs with gentrifiers. The other is made up of working
class people of color, mostly Hispanic and some African Americans. In Part Two, I
describe what kind of threats each group of NA members identified at the time of
their initial involvement in their NAs. Differences appear with respect to the nature
of the perceived threats to their home. Following this discussion, I detail how they
re-identify these and other new threats over time. Along with a new awareness
developed through their community work, the NA members extend the boundaries of
their home-place to include certain issues related to the interplay of class and
race/ethnicity issues as experienced in their locale. The lack of resources and
“citizenship education” among local residents for involving in the urban polity are
102
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the issues of concern most commonly identified by both groups of NAs. However,
each group identifies either class or race and ethnic relations as the origin of these
issues, which impacts their approach to the issues.
PART 1. DIFFERING GEOGRAPHIES OF NAs WITHIN THE SAME
GEOGRAPHY
As suggested earlier, members’ perceived problems become their motivation
for getting involved in NA and NAs’ issues. These perceptions develop on an
individual basis but they show similarities among individuals who have similar
standings in social and place-based relations. As stated in Chapter Three, almost all
NA members in my study area are local homeowners. In this area they became first
time homebuyers of single family homes. Diverse and affordable local housing
stock and its proximity to two freeways makes this area attractive for most of them to
live in. In addition to such characteristics in common, NA members have differing
social and place-based relations. By looking at certain characteristics of members,
including socio-economic and demographic characteristics, the kinds of houses they
own, the location of their house within the area, their notions of affordable housing,
and their identification with local histories of NA members, I identify two distinct
groups of NAs. I describe these in the following section.
NAs with Gentrifiers and Working Class NAs with People of Color
The first type of NA is made up mostly of middle class people of different
races and ethnicities, with the largest group being white. This is despite the fact that
whites make up only 10% of the total population in the area. The majority of
members in this group hold professional or managerial jobs. The second type of NA
is comprised of working class people of color—mostly Hispanics, many of whom are
103
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
first generation immigrants from different countries, and some African Americans.
These members work in the service sector or have no paid employment, as retirees
from manufacturing and service jobs or as homemakers. Although the difference
between women’s and men’s attendance at NA meetings of both types is not
remarkable, all active members in the working class NAs are women. Among the
professional NAs, active participation is usually equally divided between women and
men, except in cases in where there are more men than women in the NA.
I refer to the first group as the NAs with gentrifiers and the second group as
the working class NAs with people of color. Staff in community organizations and a
few members in the second group also refer to the members in the first group as
“gentrifiers,” or acknowledge that their socio-economic characteristics match those
of gentrifiers (see N. Smith 1996). Members of the first group are aware of such
talk. For example, Betty, a gentrifier member, acknowledges the perception of
themselves as gentrifiers quite vividly as she describes the demographic history of
the area:
(In the 1940s) when white people moved to the west, black people
moved in this area. Then of course these big houses became
expensive, so they turned them into boarding houses. . . . Then it
started that people kept coming, people moving back in, say, in the
beginning of the ‘80s. They are mainly white people coming in. That
caused- There is always going to be a (racial) friction in America, it’s
never gonna change. So they had those problems to work. Here is
sort of... white people, they thought, which was at that time, coming
in and taking over the houses. They thought (that) we’re gonna come
in, fix some, sell and make a lot of money, and move. Of course,
we’ve stayed here.
Perhaps not Betty but others, such as Rita and her husband Ted, had this very plan.
In 1988, Rita and Ted bought a two-story town house and moved in the area. They
were planning to keep the house until they could sell it for a good profit. Then they
104
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
were going to buy a house in Hancock Park (an affluent neighborhood of LA) and
move there. However, “the economy didn’t help” them. Their house value dropped
for a while. In time, they decided to stay in the area.
The types of houses that Betty and other members in this group of NAs own
might provide them with this kind of profit to their owners. They are officially
designated historic structures. For this area, these are the buildings that date earlier
than the 1940s and retain the original architectural characteristics of that period.
Also what members consider “affordable” housing reflects another difference related
to houses of these two groups of NA members. For gentrifiers, owning the “big
historic mansions that are affordable even for the ordinary people” is a great charm
of this area. For the members of working class NAs, the “three-bedroom single
family home that could not be bought in other parts of LA” is a reason to stay in the
neighborhood. Historic houses in the area usually have more square footage and
yard space than other houses and are more likely to be multi-storied. In contrast to
the gentrifiers, the homes of members of the working class NAs do not have any
designated status as historic houses. These houses either do not have any “historic”
value or its historic characteristics have been “damaged” by multiple alterations.
Because historic houses and other historic structures concentrate in certain
sections of the area (see Chapter Two), so do the gentrifiers and their NA
boundaries. These sections also overlap with historic preservation areas, as detailed
in Chapter Two and the following chapters. Working class NAs’ members and
boundaries are located outside local historic preservation areas. Being in a historic
preservation zone, the NAs with gentrifiers have decision-making power about issues
of historic preservation in their area, as explained in Chapters Five and Six. In
addition to this difference in their formal status, these two groups of NAs also differ
105
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
in their status as non-profit organizations. The former have this status, whereas the
latter do not. Besides granting access to financial resources, this status helps NAs
with gentrifiers in getting recognition of their NA boundaries as part of local historic
preservation zones. Ultimately, for most gentrifier-members, historic preservation is
the most important issue in the community, along with crime and safety. Working
class NAs are mostly recognized as block clubs and neighborhood watch groups, but
not as non-profits. Their primary focus is on safety and crime issues, mostly related
to gangs, and with land use, such as the placement of liquor stores, clubs, or
recycling centers in the area.
Social Meanings of Local Histories
Another difference between the two groups of NAs is that members
emphasize different eras when talking about local histories. In Chapter Three, I
discussed how places have multiple meanings for various social groups, institutions,
and individuals. I emphasized the multiplicity of such meanings through such
examples as the identification and naming of NA territories, and of “outsider” and
“insider” perspectives on stigma and “South Central” LA. No fixed relationship
between the place and “the community” exists. “The identities of place are always
unfixed, contested, and multiple” (Massey 1994). Social meanings of any shared
geography vary among those who live or work in the area and also within broader
social relations. They also extend to the past and future of that place (Massey 1995)
and in relation to other places at different scales. These place meanings reflect
power relations and strategies to change these relations.
These temporally and spatially extended meanings are embedded in the NA
members’ ways of identifying their NA’s contemporary issues. Also, in their
community work, NAs use such multiple meanings to reify place and promote
106
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
consolidated place-based identities, that is, local communities (Penrose 1994;
Anderson 1991). I will talk about the present and future meanings of this locale in
members’ stories in the following sections; in this section, I focus on NA members’
identification with local histories. These histories are not defunct stories from the
past. They are still alive in people’s social memories and in the meanings attached to
the present physical, social and economic dimensions of the neighborhood.
In members’ oral stories and in some NA documents, distinct local histories
appear in the two groups of NAs. These differences are not because of any
conflicting stories but mostly because of their emphasis on different eras and issues.
All of these stories acknowledge the presence of various and diverse local groups, as
well as the impact of public and private institutions and urban development policies
on the area. Yet each group’s identification with local social and spatial histories
and with the reputations of the area differs. For gentrifier-members, the present
historic housing stock is proof of the “glorious” past and future of this area as part of
the West Adams District, although not necessarily of stigmatized South Central LA.
Working class people of color focus on how their neighborhood is affected by the
institutional discrimination that targets South Central LA at large. They talk about
their own daily experiences to describe shifting race and ethnic relations within the
local working class population since the 1970s.
The Area o f the “Golden Era ”
Gentrifier-members I interviewed talk about their neighborhood in relation to
the architectural history of the West Adams area. With its high concentration of
historical structures, West Adams has multiple local historic zones and is recognized
107
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
as West Adams Historic District4 2 . Gentrifier-members’ stories focus on the West
Adams District mostly in reference to the era prior to the 1940s. One reason for this
emphasis relates to the criteria of designating historic structures in this area. The
guidelines for applying for such designations state that these buildings must be the
“original structures from the development of this part of Los Angeles, beginning in
the late 19th and early 20th centuries and expanding through the early 1930s.” 4 3
These gentrifier-members get aware of the era prior-1940s as “the history of the
area” through historic tours and documents prepared by historic preservation
organizations, including some NAs and real estate agencies, as detailed in Chapter
Six.
Today, one of the aims for some key preservationists in the West Adams area
is to revive this “golden era” and the local architectural history of that era. The
dissolution of racial covenants4 4 in 1948—which, interestingly, was first time this
occurred in the West Adams area—symbolizes the end of those golden days in the
gentrifiers’ stories. Following this dissolution, the formerly white residential area
became racially diverse but also segregated, as detailed in Chapter Two. Gentrifier-
members see the dissolution of covenants as an end not because of the racial and
ethnic shifts in the area. They relate this end, rather, to shifts in the local class
structure and emphasize the impacts of these shifts on architecturally significant
local single family homes Betty, a white middle class gentrifier, explains:
This area was West Adams and people around here in turn of the
century were, they probably were all white. The other side of USC
42 The majority o f my study area is part o f the District. Thus, gentrifiers’ comments about this area refer
to that piece bounded today within Jefferson Boulevard, Vermont Avenue, Santa M. Freeway, and the Harbor
Freeway.
43 Reflecting this era, the local historically designated houses are architecturally styled in the late
Victorian, Craftsman and the period revival styles (Los Angeles City Planning Department Staff Report to the
City Planning Commission. March 9, 2000. Case/ File Number: CPC 99-0143 (HPOZ).
44 See Chapter Two, Footnote 9.
108
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
[east of the Harbor Freeway] would be with black people. And
Hispanics, east. Before they came to Boyle Heights, there was a
Jewish community. People moved out west. In 1947, covenants were
broken. . . . I guess, when the first black family owned a house (here).
. . . When white people moved to the west, black people moved in
this area. Then of course, these big houses became expensive, so they
turned them into boarding houses. (My house) was a big boarding
house.
Socio-economic and Demographic Shifts in the Area
Local stories by members of working class NAs tend to describe racial and
ethnic shifts in the area during the post-1940s era. Rather than being based on any
written story, these members and some of the staff of local community organizations
and churches tell these stories as part of their social memories. Also, rather than
describing an area as large as West Adams, these stories focus on certain sections of
my study area (usually their neighborhood), and their shifting demographics.
Consequently, the whole area appears through these stories as a patchwork of
neighborhoods with distinct racial, ethnic and class compositions. In the past, for
instance, the area east of the Harbor Freeway was populated predominantly by
Japanese people, followed by African Americans from southern regions of US, and
then by Hispanics—first from Mexico and then from Central American countries.
The section west of the University has had similar shifts, but, according to Pastor
Brian, primarily with “a lot of folks from Belizian, Caribbean, Central America ...
(and) black people but not African American by any means,” as well as student-
tenants. Pastor Brian, who leads one of the Lutheran churches in the area, describes
some of these changes:
Almost every decade, there has been a new group coming. In some
ways you can say that in 2000 there are students, especially foreign
students. Asian, East India. (It’s) sometimes hard to say where they
are from.
109
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
The influx of university students into the area impacts families, as does the
departure of various groups. Members often comment that when children
grow up, they move away from the neighborhood and leave the elderly poor
in their homes. After the parents “get more incapacitated, then they pass
away, or the daughter come(s)” to take care of them, according to Saundra,
the director of a local community center who was also bom and raised here.
Then the children sell the home and move away. Saundra explains that these
changes are accompanied by an increase in people’s living standards “as their
wages increase. Then they will be able to move out to “better neighborhoods”
or a different neighborhood.”
While talking about demographic shifts in the area, most accounts by staff
members of community organizations and by African American NA members are
very detailed in reference to the history of African Americans in the area. Sister
Diane, the Director of Esperanza Housing Corporation, describes the housing
patterns of African Americans in the community:
There was the time in 1960s; the Central Avenue was the place and
the center for (the) African American community. . . . That was a
whole kind of mixed income, opportunities, and so forth. Once the
real segregation (of) housing really stopped, then you have moving
everywhere and anywhere. So people moved out for better jobs,
opportunity for homeownership. The people who couldn’t move out
were probably the bottom of economic ladder. That’s the folks who
are here. If they’re homeowners, they stay put. So when you go
south, south of Vernon, you will hit a lot of homeownership. If you
go in this area, you will hit a lot of renters.
Most members of working class NAs, such as Pat, go through similar changes in
their everyday life. Pat is an African American single parent. She is a retiree from
government-related service job, and now works as a pastor outside of her
neighborhood. Pat was not living in this area at the time that Sister Diane refers
1
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
to in her story. She moved in the area in mid-1980s. Yet since then, she too has
witnessed such population shifts and especially the decreasing number of African
Americans in the area. With some resentment, she relates these changes to the
decreasing number of jobs for African Americans in Southern California:
Right now, to me, Southern California is not the place for African
Americans to come. Because there is so much diversity here, and the
country look at (us and says) “well, we’ve helped your people doing
Martin Luther King Days, you know, in 60s and 70s.” Now Latinos
are like “it’s our turn now.” And so the Asians, “it’s our turn now to
run the country.” So I’ve noticed that there is a lot of unemployment
among African Americans. The other thing I have is, so many people
come and they don’t know the English language, and you raise the
question: “How did they get there?” . . . Right now, African
Americans probably, if they don’t have the education, they feel
maybe threatened, because everyone else is coming to what we feel is
our country.
PART 2. THREATS TO HOME-PLACE
Members’ perceived threats to values attached to their home-place shape their
motivations for getting involved in NAs and their definitions of community
problems. Members’ perceived threats at initial stage of their involvement change
over time as they develop new meanings of their home-place. At this initial stage,
residents give meaning to daily experiences in their home-place and assign “moral
weight to everyday life” (Beauregard 1995:76). Based upon these meanings, they
decide whether they want the present conditions in their home-place and, if not, they
act to change those conditions for themselves. Some of them become NA members,
as in my study area. Their actions, such as their work in their home-place, change
their earlier perceptions and awareness of community issues. As they reassess these
earlier meanings, they develop new actions based upon their new perceptions of the
issues (see Marris 1987). This process of redefining issues and actions also redefines
111
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the boundaries of home-place for NA members. Boundaries might shrink or, as in
the case of my study area, expand. This part of the chapter, first, describes members’
initial motivations for getting involved and how these motivations and definitions of
home-place changed with time and with their new awareness of community issues.
Identifying Threats to Home-place
As discussed in Chapter Three, all NA members refer to the negative
reputation of South Central LA to explain their initial motivation for involving in
NAs. Besides other factors, this stigma and a lack of public and private services
influence these members’ perceived neighborhood issues. They consider these issues
as threats to their quality of life in the community. Members of the two groups of
NAs have distinct initial concerns at their involvement. Gentrifiers’ perceived
threats to their person did not prompt their motivations when they first became
involved in the NAs. Yet the members of working class NAs describe threats that
they experienced physically.
Before moving into the area, most gentrifier-members got a tour of historic
houses in the area. They were interested either in architectural history or in
purchasing a house or both. Collaborations of local and city-wide preservationist
associations organize these tours. Their purposes are to promote the area with its
architectural history and historic preservation issues, and also to market these
architecturally rich residential areas to prospective homebuyers, as detailed in
Chapter Six. Realtors are commonly involved in NAs and in the organization of
these tours. They introduce new homebuyers to the local NAs with gentrifiers.
Leaders of NAs with gentrifiers also invite these new residents to their NA meetings.
Most gentrifier members said that they became involved in a NA either before or
immediately after they moved into the area. They were not involved in any NA in
112
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
their previous neighborhood, however, because, as Cary puts it, they “did not need
to. There was no problem there.” These tours, realtors, and welcoming committees
of local NAs introduce such homebuyers to the ways that others—including future
neighbors—value their new homes and their surroundings. The negative reputation
of South Central LA caused most of these newcomers to worry about safety issues.
They felt the need to protect present and future values attached to their home-place,
even before they had physically moved into their house and neighborhood.
The emergence of such perceptions among gentrifier-members relates also to
the notion of homeownership as a part of American life. As described in Chapter
Five, this notion represents a popular image in American culture. It suggests that
being a homeowner is the way to achieve “the American Dream” (Hayden 1980;
Perin 1977). As first-time homebuyers, these NA members see the shift in their
status from renter to homeowner as a shift in their social standing. This image also
suggests community involvement as part of one’s responsibility as a homeowner.
Being a good neighbor and participating in local associations demonstrates that they
intend to stay in that locale. Similarly, the warm greetings they received from local
NAs even before moving into the area led most gentrifier-members to see NAs as
opportunities for socializing. There they might have opportunities, as Cary explains,
to meet “not necessarily friends but good neighbors” that they can enjoy at social
gatherings, find assistance in renovating their houses, or share news about what is
going on in the area. Besides, they did not have any neighborly contacts in their
former neighborhoods because, “everybody was living in their own disconnected
boxes.”
In sum, as they moved into the area, the gentrifier-members already
perceived the neighborhood to be part of “dangerous” South Central LA. They saw
113
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
themselves as prospective homeowners with the ironic desire to live in historic
houses in Los Angeles—a “city that does not hold on its history,” according to one
member. Thus, these affordable, large historic homes represent their past and future
status as homeowners and their achievement of the American Dream and citizenry,
but also threats to values that come with this status. Consequently, the issues they
focused on at the initial stages of their involvement relate to the economic and social
values they attach to ownership of “historic mansions” and issues of historic
preservation generally.
In other parts of the community, working class people of color had safety
concerns as well that lead them to found NAs. These safety concerns and the initial
process of becoming involved are different than the gentrifiers, however. Most
working class members became involved in their NAs 10 years or more after moving
into the area. This relatively delayed participation is not because they had different
images of homeownership or no prior safety concerns. Like gentrifiers, they also
have images attached to homeowner status. As Chapters Five and Six explain,
however, they did not have enough resources to participate in NAs any earlier than
they did. Scarce resources led these members to get involved in local activism
usually when a “crisis” occurred or when physical threats become a part of their
ordinary daily experiences. According to these members, a growing number of
shootings and incidents in which sometimes gang members insult residents on the
streets or even in their front yards prompted them to become involved. Thus, these
114
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
members participated in NAs only after they began to perceive threats to their bodies
and personal safety.
Extending Home-place and Redefining “Threats”
At their initial stage of involvement, NA members in my study area mostly
focus on issues impacting the areas surrounding their home, which are usually within
five blocks or so. Yet over time, through their community work they develop new
perceptions of self- and communal interests in their home-place. In their daily
community work, they get involved in other organizational and neighbor networks,
drive and walk around their home-place, and attend public meetings relevant to their
neighborhood. All these improve not only their local knowledge but also their
awareness of new kinds of neighborhood problems and their causes. Such new
awareness might slightly or dramatically modify members’ interests in and
expectations of their home-place. Ultimately, some members in my study redefined
their motivations for becoming and remaining a NA member.
Most members (re)conceptualize their NA issues as part of larger communal
problems in the area, and thus, their NA’s actions as being beneficial to all. They are
aware of the university-related development pressures on real estate values,
increasing rents for working class families, and sporadic evictions of tenants by
landlords. Yet their awareness of community issues is not necessarily followed by
actions to address those issues. For instance, Norman, a member of a gentrifier-NA,
is very concerned that new tenants, mostly students, are replacing working class
family tenants. He explains how his efforts to address this problem will be limited to
his home-place:
I would like to focus just to this area and fight the battle that we can
win. Not worry about the huge picture that I can’t change. That’s
gonna happen in Los Angeles in the future. I can’t change that. I might
115
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
make a little contribution but that’s not my battle now. My battle is
“how do I present this building . . . big (student) parties? What do I
do with that if that happens; how do I fix that?” So I am concerned
about things that affect me immediately and they can be proper or
improper for me.
Members acknowledge the gap between their awareness of issues and what they are
able to take on. Some also express a sense of hope for potential links between local
activism and changes at larger geographical scales. Referring to their local activism,
for instance, Gary says that “we can change these four blocks and the city changes.
That’s what important about doing this.” Gentrifier-members’ concern with issues of
historic preservation continues beyond initial stages of their involvement. Issues of
street safety, cleaning and the beautification of their streets are always part of their
efforts. Most members got involved in organizations addressing historic
preservation issues in Los Angeles City. A few NAs with gentrifiers also start to
work on issues “relevant to working class families with kids in the area” but mostly
by donating money to local education projects for children.
Working class NAs continue to concern themselves with issues of street
safety. Later, they also focus on the physical maintenance of streets and properties
by cleaning and “beautifying” them. These additional concerns emerge from
members’ new perceptions of how these issues might impact their status as
homeowners. In this sense, they simultaneously verbalize the economic and social
values of their home. Jose, a working class Latino man, explains:
If we don’t clean our yard and next vacant lot, then property values
will go down. Then the University can buy our houses almost for
nothing and rent them to their students. But we want to stay here.
Some working class members are also involved in community and economic
development organizations at the city level. As detailed in Chapters Five and Six,
one of the reasons for their membership in other activist groups is to access
116
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
knowledge- and expertise-based resources. These resources, according to the
members, provide opportunities to “educate themselves and their community” about
their community issues and solutions.
Class. Race. Ethnicity, and Community Issues
At the initial stage of their involvement, most members are concerned about
the stigma attached to “South Central” LA and explain this stigma in relation to
broader class, race and ethnic issues, as detailed in Chapter Three. Over time and
with the same approach, they develop new knowledge about the kinds and sources of
neighborhood problems related to class, race and ethnicity. The ways NAs prioritize
such issues on their agendas varies between the two groups of NAs. One group
emphasizes class issues and the other points out racial and ethnic issues. An
exclusive focus on gender issues does not appear among either type of NA in this
area. Also both groups of NAs emphasize “educating residents” about citizenship
rights or responsibilities as an important item for their NA agenda. However, their
discourses about “education” differ from one another.
Diverse Place-based Interests around Property Relations
Members in both groups suggest a hierarchy in labeling community issues.
They refer to some issues as “basic” and some as “individual,” the latter being those
that are specific to certain groups of residents. Although this classification may
sound like communal- versus self-interests, it emphasizes group interest versus larger
local community interests. Frank is one of the gentrifier-members who use such
labels:
What community you live in, what town you live in, neighborhood
you live in; there is always basic issues, whether the street is safe; can
you walk down the street; can families walk down the street; are we
getting adequate city services; are streets swept away properly {emphasis
117
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
added)! All of the basic city services are issues to everyone. ...
And the quality of life; quality of life issues are always something that
everyone wants. . . . Land use... building and safety issues are taken
of, people don’t have a lot of trash in their front yards and there is no
empty lot that is dirty. And there are individual issues_(emphasis
added). This neighborhood has always been a multi-economic class
neighborhood. We have the most wealthiest people of Los Angeles. .
.. And we have always get the working class and middle class
management. . . . So we always [have] working class family here
predominantly with few rich people here. And there is diverse
interests, very much diverse interests, (and) economic interests.
Frank equates “basic issues” to quality of life issues in residential areas. These
include public safety and the cleaning of public and private properties. He does not
identify any specific group or individual as a threat or as the source of local
nuisances. In his description of the issues, “community” appears as a homogenous
entity. His talk about “individual interests,” however, refers to the diversity of social
classes in his neighborhood. He identifies three classes, in fact, which he identifies
by their housing tenure characteristics. One class is made up of working class
tenants, most of whom are people of color in this area. Another is made up of middle
class people—usually homeowners like himself—of different races, yet mostly
Latino and white in his neighborhood. The third group, which he calls “the
wealthiest,” is comprised of local landlords/developers who are also resident-
homeowners in the area.
Thus, he identifies these “individual” interests as diverse class-based interests
around property relations. One reason why he differentiates the interests of
homeowners and homeowner/landlords relates to the recent development pressures
in his section of the community. This section is under urban development pressures
caused by the increasing student-tenant population, increasing rents, and evictions of
family-tenants. As detailed in Chapter Five, gentrifier-members as homeowners and
118
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
as homeowner/landlords—especially in this area—have different ideas about what to
develop and what to preserve, socially and physically, in their home-place.
Class and Race as a Determinant o f Resources for Community Involvement
In other sections of the community with fewer development pressures, other
gentrifier-members also refer to class differences related to community issues but on
a different basis. While Frank refers to diverse class interests in terms of kinds of
neighborhood issues, some of these members identify the presence of certain classes
as a source o f ox a remedy fo r neighborhood issues. For instance, Betty, a white,
middle class gentrifier, claims that middle class residents are better equipped than
poor and low income residents to solve community issues, especially those related to
development and preservation of historic homes:
We have tremendous influx of poor people. Somehow they’ve
managed to get enough to pay and buy a house here. But we need
more middle income here, regardless of what they are; they are pink,
blue or yellow. They need to be middle income. . . . They would be
more educated; they would be more involved. And they would have
more money, you know, to do things (regarding the maintenance of
historic homes).
In contrast to Frank, Betty does not identify social class in respect to property
relations and tenure characteristics. She defines social class in terms of residents’
income and education levels. These are not necessarily conflicting view. Frank
explains residents’ differing place-based interests, in relation to their local property
relations, which reflect their class interests. Betty thinks that class differences shape
the amount and kind of resources that residents might have to address neighborhood
issues.
Yet Betty’s definition is not an observation detached from her experiences in
the area. For Betty and other gentrifiers, the fact that the majority of local residents
119
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
are poor and working class means that they have fewer resources available to address
NA issues. They relate the limited resources of poor and working class people to the
spatially defined, segregated, and neglected communities of South Central Los
Angeles. Rather than explaining this neglect entirely in terms of institutional
discrimination, they point out the lack of capacity of low income people to work
within institutional contexts. Betty and other gentrifier-leaders say things like, “(the)
poor here do not know how to do things,” referring to the apparent inability of the
“poor here” to work with the government and ask for urban services.
Frank, a gentrifier, identifies himself as half Latino and half Caucasian. In
general, he argues that race and ethnic relations are part of class relations. He
explains:
We’re making this assumption a lot especially in Los Angeles.
There’s like that: A Latino, I’m half Latino.. .A Latino can’t be part of
other groups. You have to be part of that ethnic group, but don’t put
them as part of homeowners, parts of renters, part of working class,
(and) part of rich people. That’s part of all kind of classes, of
different groups, and it really depends on the issues you’re talking
about.
Many gentrifier members share Frank’s theory about how mainly class shapes place-
based interests, as well as the resources available to work on such issues. However,
working class people of color in other NAs point out the primacy of race and
ethnicity in determining their place-based issues. They define basic local community
problems as resulting from the institutional discrimination that people of color face.
As detailed in Chapters Five and Six, they explain such discrimination especially in
reference to their difficulties in gaining access to resources originated in various
realms.
They underline the significance of race/ethnicity for place-based relations by
comparing, for instance, South Central LA to West LA, a predominantly white
120
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
residential area with superior public services. They link the neglect of South Central
LA and thus, the neglect of working poor communities of people of color, to various
institutional discriminations and inequalities that limit access to urban services and
employment and educational opportunities. Also as detailed in Chapter Five, these
members report that working class people in the area have limited individual
resources for any kind of community involvement. Residents’ low paying and
sometimes multiple jobs in service sector constrain both their financial and temporal
resources. Since most people of color in my study area have jobs in service sector,
they suggest a strong link between their race, employment, and social class, which
ultimately affects their local community issues.
In their emphasis on the lack of urban services, these members talk about
themselves as part of the majority of local residents. Through their own experiences
with racial discrimination, in addition to their work and family responsibilities, these
members identify themselves more broadly with the majority of working class
people of color in South Central LA. Even if they are organized in NAs and, thus,
more “empowered” than as individual residents, these members feel that they are still
not respected by “outsiders,” such as the government, private businesses, and large-
scale community organizations. Maria, for instance, remembers a particular meeting
to which her NA members and other local groups were invited. The meeting was for
residents to talk to the Chief of the LA Police Department about their problems, or
“that‘s what they made us believe,” she says today. Most of her members are not
fluent in English. Thus, without any Spanish-English translation at the meeting, she
felt offended. When members asked for a translator, the response was not
encouraging. “They want us as a number (in official meetings),” Maria argues even
today. Facing similar job and family responsibilities, and negative treatment by
121
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“outsiders,” Maria and most members of working class NAs identify themselves as
part of a neglected community and stigmatized South Central LA in general.
For white gentrifiers, racial and ethnic differences are not as important as
class differences. Referring to its diverse racial and ethnic structure, Betty describes
her middle-class NA as a successful “rainbow coalition.” Like most white
gentrifiers, however, she detaches herself and the white population from issues
related to any racial and ethnic groups in the area. Like popular media accounts of
the events, for instance, she talks about the 1992 LA riots in terms of conflicts
between African Americans and Koreans only. Talking about racial and ethnic
relations in the post-1992 era, she says:
Especially after the riot, there was a tension. The Hispanic people
were getting involved. But they were really- On the surface, they say
“Oh yeah, we’re okay.” But they are really- And the poor white
people say “well.” (Laughter). I am making joke of it but that sort of
how it is.
In referring to racial and ethnic groups, she refers only to non-white populations.
This act of distancing herself and white people from racial and ethnic issues appears
also in other white gentrifiers’ talk about “educating people.”
“Educating” People about Community Issues
“Educating community” is an important issue for all NAs. Yet similar to their
identification with majority of local residents along with class and race issues, they
differ in their approaches to this issue. In explaining their reasons for activism,
members of working class NAs point out a need for “educating” residents and
themselves about their citizen rights and building skills for working with any level of
the government. One of the common perceptions is that government agencies do not
inform them about any policy and planning decisions related to their area. This
122
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
impression is strong, as is the sense of institutional neglect and discrimination
against people of color and the community as a part of South Central LA. These
senses lead associations to emphasize the education of local residents—mostly
working class people of color, including recent immigrants regardless of their legal
status—on their citizen rights. Members also frequently say things like, “People
here... we don’t know how the system works.” As detailed in Chapter Six,
understanding “the System” refers, for example, to knowing how the police work,
how to write a petition to one’s council office, or whom to talk if neighbors are using
their house as drug-den. Thus, the education of residents involves teaching them how
to work within the System, that is, to develop skills to work with the government and
other bureaucratic institutions.
Most gentrifier-members also prioritize educating residents. Regardless of
their race and ethnicity, they acknowledge that they have better skills in working
with bureaucratic and legal procedures than the majority of local residents. But in
contrast to the working class NAs, the gentrifiers emphasize the responsibilities of
citizenship and not necessarily the rights. Learning these responsibilities is a must to
be part of a “community.” In their comments, “people” in need of such education
include a variety of residents such as working class people of color, tenants, non-
English speakers, and all residents who are not involved in NAs. The comments of
Hector, a Hispanic-American gentrifier, illustrate this point:
Sometime we do discuss issues with the- You know, illegally cars
being worked on, which are things in city ordinance. Sort of like
dumping. People don’t understand, “Well, I can dump whatever I
want wherever I want.” We are like, “Yes, but you know, if you call
the city, they’ll pick it up for free.” People, who’ve been living in the
neighborhood and don’t get involved, don’t care about the
neighborhood. So they feel like we’re attacking them. But we’re just
attacking the problem, not the individuals. What we really want to do
is just educate. Simply we put handbooks, city ordinances; we put out (the
123
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
information about) who to call if you need trash pick up, if you need
big bulk pick up; if you have a dog, where to get shots, whether it’s
free or not.
* * *
An evaluation of this section on two groups of NAs’ approach to class, race and
ethnicity in respect to place-based issues might at first glance imply that white NA
members in an area dominantly with people of color are being just color-blind.
The [white] newcomers like to think they view race as irrelevant. In a
word, they pretend to be color-blind, conveniently forgetting,
ignoring, or downplaying the long history of discrimination towards
blacks (E. Anderson 1990:143).
Surface comments by some gentrifier-members might seem to support Anderson’s
view. However, middle class people of color in NAs with gentrifiers also emphasize
class over race. Furthermore, Anderson’s view focuses on race as the sole category.
In Chapter Six, I provide further examples of how NA leaders identify local
community with respect to the interplay of class, race, ethnicity, and place relations.
My interviews suggest that, in general, people’s daily urban experiences and
perceptions of social realities do not emerge out of the single categories of class or
race or gender. The interplay of these relations in members’ urban experiences—
both individually and within various social groups—shapes members’ perceptions of
the issues. In my study area, living in the spatially- and socially-defined community
of “South Central Los Angeles” shapes NA members’ awareness of these interplays.
These individual NA members identify differently with this larger community, based
on the ways the interplays of their social standings in race and class relations
mediate their everyday urban experiences.
124
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Re-identifying Community Problems
Residents’ perceived threats to their home-place are the driving force behind
their involvement in NAs. At the initial stage of their involvement, residents develop
these perceptions through pre-existing representations of local communities, such as
the negative reputation of the area, idealized images of homeowners, the rhetoric of
these images by institutions and agencies, and the presence of physical threats. Yet
as in the case of working class NAs, acting upon these perceptions and getting
involved in NAs requires resources, such as time and knowledge. I detail this in the
Chapter Six and Seven. Through their community work, NA members re-identify
their motivations for participating and their issues with respect to their new
perceptions of their own and others’ social and place-based relations. In my study
area, these redefined issues are not limited to the physical setting of the
neighborhood. They are also not necessarily the result of “purely” race, class, or
gender issues. They might be a blend of these and other issues. NA members
perceive these relations within the political and economic contexts of their larger
urban space, that is, South Central LA. This serves to redefine their perceptions of
approaches to these relations within their home-place.
My findings also suggest that gender issues, by themselves, do not appear as
a force in the redefinition of NA issues. Yet class, in the form of property relations,
appears to shape the diverse interests of local groups, which I detail in Chapter Five.
In identifying NA issues and agendas, members’ perceptions of the interplay of the
class and racial/ethnic issues that are experienced in daily life within a specific urban
context—here that is, South Central LA—appear as important.
However, the two groups of NAs differ in the ways they relate class and
racial/ethnic relations to their place-based issues. On the one hand, gentrifier-
125
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
members emphasize class, defined in terms of income and education levels, as the
determining factor in shaping residents’ resources for working on NA issues. They
also identify the presence of local residents with and without such resources as an
issue for their NAs. On the other hand, members of working class NAs underscore
race and ethnicity as primary place-based issues, rather than class. In their
comments, racial and ethnic issues appear in different forms. They define these
issues socially and also spatially. They relate the lack of urban services and job
opportunities that people of color face in their area specifically to institutional
discrimination within South Central Los Angeles. They also refer to race and
ethnicity in their descriptions of job opportunities, and in terms of income and
education levels in general. As detailed in Chapters Five and Six, they relate this to
the lack of resources of the majority of residents to get involved in NAs. Yet
different than the gentrifiers, members of the working class NAs do not to suggest
that die presence of such groups in the area is a threat but, rather, an issue to work on
with the goal of “community empowerment.” As a last point, both groups of NAs
take action upon these social issues. They define the education of residents about
NA issues as the most important agenda item. Yet their approaches to this agenda
item vary too. NAs with gentrifiers prioritize the education of residents about their
citizenship responsibilities as members of a larger community, whereas they
distinguish themselves from this group of residents who they perceive to be in need
of education. Working class NAs, in contrast, focus on educating themselves and
other local residents about citizenship rights and the skills needed to work within
their institutional contexts and especially with government agencies.
126
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 5
CONFLICTING VISIONS AT HOME-PLACE: Diverse Interests at
Home-Place around Property Relations
Residents envision a neighborhood with a particular set of social and urban
characteristics. These spatial visions shape residents’ definitions of and approaches
to neighborhood problems and, thus, their motivations for getting involved in NAs.
Social issues stemming from class, race, gender, and other social relations are
embedded within these spatial visions. In the previous two chapters, I describe how
members’ perceived threats to their visions lead them to join NAs. In Chapter Three,
I describe the common features of members’ perspectives on local activism—as a
work performed within certain social and physical boundaries and as a contest for
resources within dominant power relations in urban space. I emphasize how their
place-based issues are not “too local” but inclusive of certain broader social and
economic issues. In Chapter Four, I discuss how differences in NA members’
motivations relate to their perception of their own relative standing within social and
place-based relations. Also relevant to this chapter, one of the main arguments in
Chapter Four is that the unique interplay of social and place-based relations creates
complex and differing motivations for participating in NAs, and form specific issues
and local groups around these issues. Based on their members’ socio-economic
characteristics and various place-based relations, I identify two groups of NAs. One
group is made up of associations with gentrifiers and the other is comprised of
working class NAs. I explain how these two groups differ in the ways they associate
NA issues and agendas with class, race and ethnicity-based issues that are
experienced socially and spatially.
127
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
In this chapter, I continue to focus on the intersection of social and place-
based relations for NA members and how these intersections shape motivations for
becoming NA members. I examine diverse property interests within the NAs with
gentrifiers. As suggested briefly in Chapter Four, residents’ differing property
relations shape their diverse interests in neighborhoods and NA issues in my study
area. Chapter Three discussed how NA members’ status as homeowners interrelates
with their other social characteristics and motivates their involvement in NAs. In
addition to this status, a subgroup of members in both types of NAs has other
property-based relations. They are also local landlords, developers, realtors, or local
business owners in the area. These property relations also influence their interests in
participating in NAs.
Regardless of the kind of property relations or any other social and place-
based relations that NA members might have, one common factor leading most
residents to become NA members is their vision for their neighborhood space. These
visions are spatial visions. That is, they include both desired forms of social life and
as well as particular urban forms. For various reasons explained later, living in a
neighborhood with homeowners and single family homes is part of a shared vision
for most homeowners in American culture.
For instance, George, a white middle class gentrifier, notes, “I want housing
in this area. But not just housing; I want single family housing.” Although he makes
his preferences clearly known, George does not ignore the fact that some of the local
housing structures are single-family homes. But he also notes that when he and his
wife moved into the area in late 1970s, more single family homes were present. Like
George, most NA members are aware of the scarcity of affordable housing for both
homeowners and tenants in the area and Los Angeles City. They want new housing
128
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
units to augment this scarce stock. Yet in their emphasis on affordable housing,
most gentrifiers talk about single family homes and often about homeownership.
Despite his awareness of an affordable housing crisis, especially for working class
people, and the high percentage of renters in the area, George’s wish for single
family homes might seem contradictory or even elitist. Yet I argue that George
maintains this desire as his ultimate vision for his neighborhood space. This vision
guides his approach to any changes in his home-place. With this vision, he makes
sense of everyday changes and his experiences in the lived space of his
neighborhood (Lefebvre 1991).
In this chapter, I describe how a group of gentrifier-members in a certain
section of the community re-adjust their ultimate visions of their neighborhoods and
thus, their reasons for remaining NA members. In Part One, I describe how, as
homeowners, most NA members’ ultimate visions focus on homeowners as the
“good” neighbors. This vision emerges not primarily from their daily experiences
but from common perceptions of homeownership and tenancy in American culture.
Part Two describes how a group of gentrifier members in a section of my study area
adjust their visions with respect to changes in local tenant characteristics and to their
own property relations in the neighborhood. Yet at the end of this adjustment
process, two distinct sets of visions for the neighborhood emerge, causing conflicts
between the two groups of gentrifiers with these visions. On the one hand,
homeowner-gentrifiers like to keep family-tenants rather than student-tenants as their
neighbors. They consider student-tenants to be detractors in their visions of
neighborhood as a communal space. On the other hand, homeowners who are also
local landlords welcome student-tenants. They see the neighborhood as a space in
which to invest economically and to exercise their property development rights.
129
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
PART 1. HOMEOWNERS’ ULTIMATE VISIONS FOR HOME-PLACE:
Homeowners as “Good” Neighbors
NAs in my study area are open to all “who live here and who’re interested” in
community issues, according to NA members. Yet the actual attendees at NA
meetings are nearly all homeowners. Also noting renters’ low attendance rates, most
members in both groups of NAs suggest that homeowners are the key people for
ensuring that community standards are maintained. Based on such daily experiences,
but also the stereotyped images of homeownership and tenancy in American culture,
these members develop a vision of “good” neighbor based on tenure characteristics.
A “good” neighbor is one who stays in the neighborhood for a long time and who
takes responsibility for the daily maintenance of the neighborhood. Duties of the
“right kind” of neighbors include positively contributing to the “publicness” of the
neighborhood.
In these visions, homeowners appear as the right neighbor. I argue that this
perception among these NA members evolves not just from their daily experiences
as homeowner-activists who deal regularly with renter- (and homeowner) neighbors
who are reluctant to get involved in the community. Common perceptions of
homeownership and tenancy in American culture are an important source of this idea
of good neighbor. In this framework, life appears as a series of stages in which one
progresses from tenancy to homeownership. As Perin (1977) notes:
Each stage [is] matched by appropriate marital status, amount of
income, ages of children, school years completed, leisure tastes,
tenure form, and housing type (32).
Stages are ordered in a “correct sequence,” where each American citizen needs to be
“first a renter, then an owner,” and thus, climb “the ladder of life from renter to
owner” (Perin 1977:32). Homeownership symbolizes a financially secure,
130
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
socially stable and more committed person, compared to someone in the stage of
tenancy (Hayden 1984).
This whole package of the American Dream leads NA members to believe
that homeowners are the “good” neighbors in their vision for their neighborhood.
They are stable and responsible in the local community and have a local stake, that
is, a home. In this perception, renters do not have any permanent incentive to be
“good neighbors” other than the social pressures imposed by neighbors. They have
less stability, fewer place-based stakes, and less willingness to take on community
responsibility in any locale, according to most NA members in my study area.
Frank, for example, describes the difference between renters and owners:
Homeowners are very important glue that keeps community together.
It’s a homeowner that has highest stake in the community in terms of
day to day living. . . . Renters are great but they have different
interests. They try to figure out how to buy a home, (and) how to use
their family (resources for this purpose) {emphasis added).
As suggested in Frank’s comments, part of this idealized vision suggests that the
renter’s goal is to buy a home and become a homeowner. Until they attain this goal,
renters move around the city or even around the nation. From the point of view of
homeowner-members like Frank or Gary (see below), renters feel less tied to their
home-place, in contrast to local homeowners, because they have no financial
obligations to the community. Nor do they have the social status conferred by
homeownership. According to these NA members, therefore, the owner’s stake in the
neighborhood is not only different but, more importantly, greater than that of the
renter. Explains Gary:
I never sense a difference in (renters’) participation or their energy or
their commitment to the organization. But I would guess that
homeowners have more at stake. Because we’re gonna stay (here)
longer. It’s harder to interest renters in coming and joining.
Homeowners really want to be here. . . . I think the energy and
131
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
commitment (to neighborhood) is stronger from a homeowner
(emphasis added).
According to this perception then, renters as transitory residents cannot play any
significant role in the maintenance of the neighborhood. This perception leads most
NA members to believe that homeowners bear the responsibility for maintaining the
neighborhood.
This perception is not simply an idea but a normative mandate. These NA
members extend the responsibility for neighborhood maintenance beyond resident
homeowners to all kinds of local property holders, including local and non-local
landlords, and institutions and businesses with local property. The responsibilities of
landlords, according to this perspective, are twofold. One concerns the maintenance
of private property and its surroundings. The other one is the “education” of renters
about community standards for neighborhood maintenance. Maria, for instance, is a
working class woman of color and a landlord. She blames landlords for the litter in
front of apartment buildings:
I am also landlord. But I tell my tenants to keep clean the front of
their apartment; that is a rule for them. Those landlords too should do
the same thing.
The education of renters about community standards is not limited to maintenance of
rental properties and streets. Loud music, roosters in the yard or at home, taking
more than two parking spots on the street or washing a car on the street are other
problems that require “education.” Certainly, absentee landlords, non-local
landlords, and an increasing number of rental companies make it difficult to assign
such responsibilities to landlords. Still in this normative argument, property holders
132
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
are the caretakers because they will stay in the area for the long-term. They have a
place-bounded stake to maintain and protect the community.
Drawing from this argument, homeowners feel they have the right to expect
the same level of responsibility from those holding similar stakes—that is,
property—in the same geography. This approach identifies homeownership not
simply as a relationship between an object and a person, as I have also argued in
Chapter Three. Indeed, homeownership appears as “a relationship among persons,
subject to rules laid down by and enforced by society” (Marcuse 1970). Moreover,
this suggests a different set of duties and rights for local tenants as well. As Marcuse
suggests, “both ownership and tenancy simply [are] different names given to bundles
of socially determined rights, powers, privileges, and immunities among individuals”
(quoted in Perin 1977:23).
PART 2. RE-ADJUSTED VISIONS AND LOCAL CONFLICTS
Most of these NA members might desire to live exclusively among
homeowners and in a community made up solely of single-family homes. However,
all of them are aware that likelihood of achieving this desire in their neighborhood is
slim. The area, with an 83% tenancy rate and less than one-quarter (23%) of the
total housing units being single family units, cannot fulfill their ultimate vision.
Given the crisis of affordable housing in the city and region, this relatively
affordable neighborhood for owners and renters is not likely to have high ownership
rates anytime soon.
Also, recent urban development pressures have negatively influenced this
area in terms of its relatively affordable housing stock, although these projects might
help the city’s economic development. The University’s expansion into this
residential area, downtown projects, such as Staples Center and others along
133
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Figueroa Street, and new school projects by Los Angeles Unified School District, are
some of the main pressures on affordable housing stock in this area4 5 . Facing offers
or eminent domain actions through the CRA to possess their houses, homeowners
know that those offers would not allow them to buy a house in another part of the
city. Renters are subject to such replacements even more commonly4 6 . Not the
actual loss of physical buildings, but mostly termination of renters’ rights to inhabit
affordable units—typically under Section 8—has caused a decline in the affordable
rental market4 7 .
Especially in the areas north and west of the University campus, an
increasing number of student-tenants has transformed the rental housing market.
Along with a slight increase in the number of rental units, increasing monthly rents
push working class family-tenants out of the area, according to the staff of local
organizations and churches and my observations at tenant meetings. New tenants—
mostly single college students—have changed the demographic profile of the
neighborhood from what NA members have been accustomed to. In addition,
landlords of all types are aware that this new type of tenants creates a more profitable
demand cycle for their rental units. Almost all students stay in the unit for much less
45 Private projects like Staples Center have to provide affordable housing as 20% o f their housing projects.
However, projects by non-profits such as USC and LAUSD do not have the same kinds o f obligations.
46 These relatively affordable rental units tend to be low quality, in terms o f housing conditions. Renters—
mostly working class Latino and African American families, including immigrants— do not have much control
over these conditions because o f the inefficiencies o f official control mechanisms over these units, according to
the staff o f local organizations and community activists concerned with tenants’ rights.
47 Most tenants in these buildings are eligible for Section 8 vouchers. However, the units with new rates
will no longer be affordable to lower income households. Moreover, even if the tenants can use their vouchers,
some landlords might push them to move out by using various tactics. Once the tenants leave that building, the
voucher will not help them unless they find comparably affordable housing. According to the report by the
Housing Crisis Task Force, the California Housing Partnership Corporation was estimating that 6,597 o f a total
21,391 (nearly one out o f three) units that are under Section 8 are at high or medium risk o f converting to market
rents between 1999-2004.
134
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
time than most family-tenants. This makes it easier for landlords to increase rents
whenever they have new tenants.
In response to these changing tenant characteristics in their home-place, NA
members redefine their perceived threats to their home-place, and the motivations for
being NA members. Their ultimate vision of the neighborhood still impacts these
perceptions. Yet a growing awareness of the actual conditions of the neighborhood
tempers the desires of NA members, who become more practical about their goals.
Also, the ways in which NA members adjust their visions and act upon them varies
within the same neighborhood and even within the same group of NAs. In my study
area, these different and conflicting new visions evolve in relation to a particular
group of gentrifier-property owners. These gentrifiers live in a very small
geographic area that is under the influence of the same urban development pressures
described above.
Conflicting Interests in the Same Geography
Residential areas to the north and west of the University campus are most
vulnerable to the rapid social and demographic changes caused by the influx of
college students. To the west, Vermont Avenue formerly divided the residential area
and the campus, as did Adams Boulevard to the north of campus. In this chapter, I
focus only on the area north of Adams Boulevard.
Adams Boulevard is the second major street north of the University
campus4 8 . According to long-term residents, Adams Boulevard was a psychological
boundary for most USC students. They would not cross this street and preferred to
live to its south and, thus, closer to campus. Approximately ten years ago, this
changed. According to NA members, this is because their community work
48 Jefferson Boulevard is the first, serving as the northern boundary o f the campus.
135
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
improved the quality of life in this neighborhood and that attracted students here4 9 .
Many more college students now live in the 4 blocks to the north of the Adams
Boulevard, that is, further away from the campus. This section also consists of
young working class families who rent and long-term homeowners, as well as a large
number of important historical homes and structures5 0 . It is also part of one of the
LA Historic Preservation Overlay Zones, as detailed in Chapters Three and Seven.
The University-owned student housing is not the only housing option for
students in this area. Buildings with 1-room, 1-or 2-bedrooms, or even townhouses
with more than 5 rooms provide other options for student-tenants. Besides a few
property-management companies that are widely buying local multi-unit housing
stocks, some local homeowners also are landlords in this emerging student housing
market5 1 . Homeowner-occupants of large historic houses—especially couples
without children—make their additional rooms available for student renting. Some
other local homeowners do the same but on a larger scale, by purchasing and
renovating local historic houses to rent out. The latter group acts as local
homeowners/landlords for a number of rental houses in the area. Some of these
landlords are also members of NAs with gentrifiers.
HPA is one of the prominent NAs here. It is mainly a historic preservation
organization, active for more than 20 years. Today it is not a membership-based
49 So explains George, a gentrifer:
Adams Boulevard used to be, sort o f being the dividing line (between the university area and his neighborhood).
Because students were afraid, they couldn’t come here [laughter]. They lived in fear. God knows what’s gonna
happen. So the community does all the work. This is the part o f the irony o f life. (The community) gets rid off
the gang there, gets rid o ff the graffiti, makes it a safe neighborhood, and now it’s being overwhelmed by
students. Like some people said, “why did I bother?”
50 This includes Chester Place, owned today by St. Mount Mary’s College, in addition to a number o f
large churches and the historical Automobile Club Building.
51 Both kinds o f owners have modified their rental units to benefit from the students’ demand for the local
housing. Along with exterior renovations, new interior adjustments are made to accommodate a number o f
students in 1-apartment unit with multi-rooms. These renovations, done mostly by property management
companies, have also been used as an excuse to evict the current tenants (mostly families) from the units.
136
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
organization. The board members are a small group of gentrifier-residents. They
decide and act on behalf of the association and also operate another, more “action
oriented” preservation organization. Two board members of both of these
organizations—George and Stacy, a married couple—are also on the board of the
local historic preservation zone (HPOZ) in this area. Another association is the
Association of Neighbors, which was active for 10 years and made a recent
comeback after a 5-year break. This group works on issues related to gangs and
graffiti, cleaning up the streets, as well as addressing crime and safety. The
leadership is carried by Susan, a gentrifier who has run a bed-and-breakfast in the
area for nearly 20 years. Its members consist of both gentrifiers and working class
people of color, mostly women residents.
Doris and Amy are two other gentrifiers in the neighborhood. They have
been involved in both associations at some point in time. Since they moved into the
neighborhood in mid-1990s, they and their spouses bought historic houses to live in,
as well as around ten others to renovate and rent out. When they became involved
with the organization, both Doris and Amy were unhappy with HPA’s internal
structure, its “too much” emphasis on historic preservation, and its activities, like
suing the University and other big local institutions for their redevelopment projects.
After attending a couple of meetings, Doris decided that the “Association of
Neighbors was not (her) thing.” Amy continues to be involved in the Association of
Neighbors and serves as Secretary for the HPOZ Board. In addition, she and Doris
started another group which is smaller than the Association of Neighbors. This
group also aimed to work on safety issues and the beautification of their
neighborhood. Yet this group was basically composed of “apartment owners, people
137
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
who own and rent it,” according to Doris, and was not open to all residents. After a
year of meeting and not attaining any formal status, the group dissolved.
Norman is in touch with all these gentrifier-neighbors. He is one of the few
tenant-gentrifiers. But his is not an ordinary tenancy. In return for his housekeeping
services, he shares the house with another homeowner-gentrifier and two-student
tenants. This provides him more time around his home-place as well as for
community work. In summarizing the conflicts around neighborhood issues, he
focuses on people’s “stake” in relation to recent development pressures in the
neighborhood:
Some people think that development is inevitable, some people think,
“My property value should go up goody.” Some people think, “I
wanna be in the neighborhood with families and children and not be
surrounded by students, I hate that.” George and Stacy would give
you very different view probably than mine. Susan would give you (a)
different view. But she’s in a different part (of the neighborhood). ..
. What she’s fighting is the church behind her. It creates a lot of
noise, a lot of screaming, kids wanna be loud all the time. This is
different from here ‘cause she wanna do business [she owns a bed &
breakfast] there. Doris would probably say to you “I’d like as many
students as possible because, look what happens; look at the way this
house used to look before we fixed it up; (now) this house looks
gorgeous.” They do, but I would like the houses to look gorgeous and
families in it. But that may be unrealistic. So yes, there are conflicts.
And I think at the moment (that) there are conflicts, and the conflicts
are coming from the [development] pressures being observed on the
neighborhood. If they wanna a lot of pressures and if stakes are so
high...
These diverse interests and conflicts among gentrifier-residents result from their
perceptions of the local “stakes” in this neighborhood. These stakes relate mostly to
members’ property relations and the sections of the community in which they live, in
terms of the urban development pressures felt there. The recent influx of student-
tenants who are replacing family-tenants in the area is the trigger that makes these
138
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
expectations and conflicts surface. Opposing such development pressures, on the
one hand, homeowner-members typically want to maintain and improve their
neighborhood as a communal space sustained by individual responsibilities. On the
other hand, the vision of many landlord-members sees neighborhood as a space with
property development rights. These local landlords approach these development
pressures as an opportunity to develop the area and to exercise their property rights.
These two adjusted visions, if realized in the physical and social space of the
neighborhood, conflict with each other.
“No student-fication!”: The Neighborhood as a Communal Space
Some gentrifier-members prefer families rather than students as tenant-
neighbors5 2 . In their ultimate vision, they prefer homeowners as their neighbors over
any other kind of tenant. Within the actual conditions of their neighborhood,
however, family-tenants with family lifestyles become their preference as neighbors.
According to these NA members, one commonality between students and other
tenants is that few tenants intend to stay in the neighborhood long enough to
contribute to NAs’ community work. Thus, it is not the actual stay of students in the
locale that makes them less favorable to these members. They explain this in
reference to college students’ “life style” rather than their tenure characteristics or
duration of stay.
NA members understand that students’ short stays discourage them from
participating in community projects. But more importantly, it creates a certain state
of mind in many students that discourages them from contributing to the local
community. Students’ own expectations that they will remain relatively briefly in
52 Here they sometimes differentiate undergraduate students from graduate students, with the latter heing
considered more quiet and less o f a disturbance. Or perhaps they suggest this solely as a courtesy to me, because
at the time o f the interview, I was a graduate student!
139
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the area makes them have no expectation of their future involvement in the
“publicness” of the neighborhood. Still, from the members’ point of view, how
different is this state of mind from that among family tenants? After all, family-
tenants may leave as quickly as student-tenants in the area do. According to some
members, these two kinds groups differ in terms of their perceptions of home.
Students often have the mindset of “going back home” and thus, do not have a sense
of home and home-place in the neighborhood, unless they are local students. With
family-tenants, members think that they have a better chance of creating a sense of
home-place, or at least getting some consideration for their community work.
These members’ explanations emphasize that students do not contribute to
“the neighborhood character” of their residential area. Norman explains:
Cleaning up the neighborhood is a double-edge sword: you wanna get
it better, but you don’t wanna lose its character. My fear for this
neighborhood has become- not (for) north of 23rd (Street); there’s
still individual homeowners (there), but south of 23rd. My fear is that
it would basically become a warehouse with USC students. And
that’s not a neighborhood (but) a group of houses filled with USC
students, and it’s different. (Pointing to the house next door) Mike
and Kathy have 2 students (renting rooms in the house). But that’s
(Mike and Kathy’s) home; they live there. That’s different from
someone just owning the house and not living in it and renting to
students. Because the house is empty in Christmas time (or any)
holiday time, it doesn’t make a neighborhood.
In Norman’s explanation, what make a residential area is not people inhabiting local
dwellings, but their contributions to “the neighborhood.” Here the neighborhood
appears as a fabric woven together with houses as both physical and social units. In
these members’ perception, residents can add to this fabric in two ways. The first is
140
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
by creating social space and time within the “social norms,” and the second is by
contributing to community work.
Creating social space and time within the fabric of the neighborhood suggests
that certain norms must follow. This notion of social space and time does not
include, for instance, fraternity parties. Indeed, these members perceive any loud
student parties to be intrusions to the quality of residential life—not specifically by
playing of loud music or other issues, but by disrespecting neighborhood norms.
These norms specify certain hours and days for loud music, as well as the behaviors
that are considered within specific social times and spaces in the residential area.
According to the members, students do not follow these norms—even though
neighbors try to educate student-neighbors, for instance, by asking them to be quiet.
The weekends, Christmas time and other holidays are the best times for local
dwellers to create social times and spaces, according to Norman. However, students
leave the neighborhood during these times and violate community norms yet again—
in a different way—by disregarding their responsibility for creating social times and
spaces and, thus, a neighborhood.
Based on the notion of family lifestyle, these norms guide the dwellers to
expect certain times and spaces to be part of the communal life of the neighborhood.
These members like Norman, for instance, were used to and expected to hear salsa
music on Friday nights from their tenant-neighbors. But now that student-tenants
have replaced these family-tenants, they are bothered by the loud music at 4:00am on
any given day. Also, members expect certain behaviors from tenants with a family
lifestyle, including limiting one’s private social times to their own dwelling.
141
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Describing the “transformation of family houses to student units,” George describes
the failure of students to observe this:
Three of (the houses) over (on) 24th Street had been long term
family-owned houses. An old couple died. Their house was on the
market. (Doris and Stuart) bought it (and rented it out to students).
So you went from an old quiet couple to eight loud students with eight
cars. People who are living in that street are (now) dealing with
social issues they never dealt before in their lives. They’re like
screaming and yelling and tearing on. There is lot of hostility.
While explaining how student-tenants violate norms of creating social time and
space within the neighborhood, some members, such as Norman, emphasize that
some family tenants also violate such norms:
I don’t wanna romanticize the working people. They’re fine but
they’re also poor, welfare people here, and there are also lot of people
poor-trash here. It would be nice to clean up one element without
getting rid of everything. That’s difficult and tricky.
Norman’s comments suggest that certain groups—mostly those with low income
levels—cannot contribute to maintenance of the neighborhood. Despite his
preference for well-off families as neighbors, however, his experiences with some
well-off student-tenants suggest to him that the student lifestyle is more inclined to
violate the “neighborliness” of the neighborhood than the other tenants’ lifestyles.
These violations also lead the members to perceive that students are
exploiting their neighborhood. Students enjoy the improved quality of life in the
neighborhood without giving anything back. Besides not creating social time and
space according to neighborhood norms, they do not participate in any community
work that the NA members pursue. Talking about her efforts to encourage some
student-tenants to participate in community works, Maria feels only frustration.
142
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Although she is a working class woman living in another area that faces similar
pressures, her frustration echoes the sentiments of gentrifiers in this area:
I tried to talk to the students and asked, “Please can you pull the trash
can (in front of your building).” Because when the sweepers come,
they cannot sweep my street. When I say, (they say) “I’m busy, go!” .
.. (I) try to be a neighbor. (I) had tried. There’s no way you can
because they came here to study, to get their degree and to move
(out). . . . I said (to the student), “I’d like to tell you that we have a
group of kids. We’d like to ask whether you can participate. And
maybe we can arrange something to, with a little cost, community
work, something like an art, teaching kids how to paint something or
make something change. They said “sure” and never came back.
They don’t want to be part of anything.
In summary, the main rule for being a member of the local community, according to
NA members, is to contribute to the “publicness” of the neighborhood space. This
contribution can be done in two ways—first, by contributing to the creation of social
time and space in neighborhood or by remaining within the social norms that
characterize family lifestyles. The second is by participating in any kind of
community work in the neighborhood. From the members’ point of view, tenants of
all types are already limited in their willingness contribute to the neighborhood—
especially to community work. Tenants’ lack of a “stake” in the neighborhood—that
is, ownership of a home—and their relatively brief length of stay creates a state of
mind among tenants that impedes them from investing in the neighborhood, socially
and economically. Yet these members see student-tenants and family-tenants as
distinct groups, and argue that the students’ notions of home and lifestyle are much
less favorable than family-tenants’. From this perspective, student-tenancy appears
143
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
as a stage in “the ladder of life from renter to owner” (Perin 1977), yet a lower one
than the stage of family-tenancy.
The Neighborhood Space for Development Rights of One’s Own Property
From die perspective of NA members who favor family-tenants over student-
tenants, property holders and especially landlords still appear as die main caretakers
of neighborhood space. Yet they also identify different kind of landlords with
respect to their ways of taking responsibility, which they relate to the scale of their
business as landlords. Referring to a married couple who rents out their spare rooms
to a couple of students, George compares the various kinds of landlords:
They love students. It’s a family experience. They are very unique.
If that was happening (in this neighborhood), that might be better. . . .
[Referring to local landlords with multiple rental buildings, such as
Doris and her spouse, Stuart] They didn’t do anything wrong. They
bought a house; they fixed it, stepped off a lot of money fixing it.
And they’re getting revenue out of it. . . . Most of this quadrant is
(with) renters with absentee owners. Stuart and Doris live there. So
if you have a problem with their tenants, and knock their door and
(say) “Hey, tell your kids to shut up.” (Doris and Stuart) may not do
it but at least you have that option. With absentee landlords and
management companies, good luck.
Some members, like Frank, refer to the local landlords with multiple buildings as the
“Millionaires’ Club.” Frank is a homeowner and also a local developer. Yet he
distances himself from these landlords with respect to their interests in neighborhood
space. He thinks that landlords who only have an interest in profit making do not
contribute to the “publicness” of the community and the high quality of residential
life.
Doris and Stuart are an example of local landlords with multiple rental
buildings. Contrary to the opinions described above, Doris thinks that through their
investments and community work in the neighborhood, they contribute to
144
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
neighborhood life. She thinks that she and her husband have high stakes in the area
since they bought and renovated nearly fourteen local historic homes and, thus,
invested a lot of money in the neighborhood. Through USC Neighborhood Outreach
funds,5 3 they renovated these houses and now rent them out primarily to university
students. Doris explains how the “business character of the neighborhood” and the
“financial support” for renovating historic houses encouraged them to invest in these
local homes:
It’s a transitional neighborhood. Just the idea that Figueroa Corridor
(Partnership/ BID) is developing the way it is; (and) the way it
happened to the area where the Staples Center is. New businesses are
coming (here) over time. It’s one major transition.
Another transition Doris describes is the influx of students to their part of the area,
which has increased the need for rental housing. Thus, she says, “going back to
single-family housing like (some preservationists) want is not going to happen.” In
explaining how these transitions can contribute to “the good of the neighborhood,”
she mentions her involvement in community issues. She believes that the
involvement of “people like (she and her husband)” might solve problems “like
parking and washing cars on the street, playing music as loud as they want... in the
lower income areas,” and improve the quality of life in the area.
Neither her economic investment in neighborhood nor her expectations for
the involvement of well-off residents are unique to Doris. These are common trends
among most gentrifiers and even a few working class people that I interviewed.
According to Laura, a joumalist-gentrifier, most of the gentrifiers in the West Adams
District are not rich. Some were even “dead-broke” when they moved in the area 20
or 25 years ago. Since that time, they were able to buy the historic, though poorly-
53 See http://www.usc.edu/ext-relations/gnc/where_your_money_goes/announcements/5une_2004.htinl
145
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
maintained, houses for low prices because the area was “red-lined” and not at the top
of the list in the real estate market. In “the first wave of these move-ins in West
Adams,” these gentrifiers—“mostly artistic people then,” explains Laura—would
buy a historic house, renovate it without much spending a lot of money, and live
there or sell it.
Today, new sorts of gentrifiers are in the area, according to homeowner-
gentrifiers. They buy houses, spend money for renovations, and the sell them in a
year with a good profit. With the growing reputation of the West Adams District
(including my study area), as well as the rapid increase in the registration of historic
homes and preservation zones, the potential for economic investment in this local
historic area is more visible than in the past. In this section of the community, some
gentrifiers, like Doris, Amy, and their spouses, invest by purchasing and renovating
historic houses with the expectation of selling them or renting them out. Others
invest only in the historic homes in which they currently live5 4 .
These local landlords’ emphasis on their economic investments in the
neighborhood is not significantly different than the homeowners’ emphasis on their
own investment: their own homes. Both of these investments have economic values
for their owners, although the former have larger investments than the latter. Local
landlords see the neighborhood space in terms of its individual properties and rights
to develop. Despite the opinions of people such as Norman, having rental units and
54 Purchasing houses for the purpose o f renting or selling is not unique to these gentrifiers, o f course.
Although very few, some members in associations with working class people o f color to the west o f the USC
Campus are landlords as well. However, this is not as common as in the area to the north o f campus. Besides,
and as explained in Chapter Two, the historic housing stock to the west is not as concentrated in specific blocks
as it is in the section to the north o f campus. Also, the existing historic structures are generally not as well
preserved, as the wooden parts o f the structures are covered with stucco.
146
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
thus, tenants, is part of the rights that come with owning property. Norman explains
this perspective, describing a house in the area:
You would think that that house would go for $150,000. When they
tried to sell it for, I wanna say, $255(,000) or $259(,000), which is
crazy. And the problem with that is, if you can afford to pay that,
then you have to fill it with tenants, and you can afford $259(,000).
What happen(s) when the neighborhood become(s) too expensive is
that, for every person that fixes up a house, there are lot of people that
just buy it and exploit the situation and the neighborhood is getting
nothing out of it.
These local landlords welcome student-tenants since these tenants fulfill part of their
development rights, but with a better return in revenue than family-tenants. The
short stay of students—often as little as one year, their willingness to share one-room
units with other students and to pay market-rate rents in an area with otherwise
comparably low rents make the landlords’ choice of student-tenants an easy one.
Local Conflicts related to Property Relations
These sorts of adjusted visions of home-place described above would be
simply abstract ideas were it not for the involvement of the two groups of gentrifier-
members in various local organizations. Through their involvement, these opinions
and their actions upon them become diverse local issues, sometimes involving legal
conflicts. These conflicts are not just among NA members but between other
institutions in the area as well. Doris recalls that the University, CRA, and St. Mount
Mary’s College are some of the big institutions that a local neighborhood
preservation organization (lead by George and Stacy) sued due to their development
projects in this neighborhood. Doris thinks that these lawsuits cost these institutions
147
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
money and prevented them exercising their rights to initiate additional development
projects in the area:
My thing is that (these institutions) have a right, my God. But George
and Stacy are- had taken every kind of organization and turned them
into preservation (groups). But it turns out to be anti-development or
whatever.
Members like George and Stacy who favor “only families as tenants” are also board
members for the local preservation zone, or HPOZ, in this area. The historic
preservation guidelines control changes made to the exterior portions of the
buildings. Yet for some property owners, these committees can be a burden to
“citizens practicing their rights to invest,” according to Doris. Since Doris and her
husband buy and renovate historic houses, their projects have to go through a review
by this board. Although in the past they worked within this process without any
problems, recently they have encountered some difficulties. Doris thinks that this is
very much related to the presence of George and Stacy on the project review board:
We ended up with Building and Safety, and we had to go before the
HPOZ, and it was awful. I mean, that’s just horrible, really.
Most of gentrifier-members in my study area see these local historic preservation
zones and their boards as “a protection against development.” Members, such as
Frank, see them as a tool to balance between interests around “property rights and
community rights.” But as a member who favors family-tenants, he approaches them
mostly as a protection of their community standards.
It’s the same issues. It’s all about how we (are) strict, how much
property rights- it’s really between property rights versus community
rights. Anytime you sell anybody whose . . . money, “Gee, you have
148
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
to comply with zoning laws, you have to comply with building and
safety laws, with community standards.”
Finally, these conflicts lead both parties in this issue to develop new alliances with
other groups and organizations. For instance, recently Doris was writing letters to
involve in the Figueroa Partners, a partnership of businesses on Figueroa Street with
an emphasis on economic development (see Chapter Six). Since she is an alumni of
the University—which is a member of the partnership as well—and has business
interests in the area, she thinks that will not be difficult. George, on behalf of his
organization, is in touch with the Esperanza Housing Corporation and the Figueroa
Corridor Coalition, both of which have recently emphasized community
development, including tenant rights (see Chapter Six). Esperanza—which focuses
on affordable housing in the area—and George and other preservationists had a
series of disputes and lawsuits around the issues of local housing stock
characteristics. Now George thinks that they need this new alliance especially since
both parties are concerned about keeping family tenants in the area.
Diverse Interests at Home-Place around Property Relations
As argued in all chapters of this study, this chapter too focuses on how the
intersection of social and place-based relations for NA members shapes motivations
for becoming NA members. This chapter highlights how residents’ differing
property relations shape their diverse interests in neighborhoods and NA issues in my
study area. Their property relations do not have any monolithic impact on members’
motivations for staying in NAs. Rapid social changes in a section of my study area
stimulate diverse local property relations to surface as conflicting to each other,
especially in the ways members envision their neighborhood in respect to social
characteristics of neighbors.
149
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 6
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS’ INTERNAL RESOURCES:
Members and Leaders
Access to decision-making processes regarding community issues is very
important for NAs. Associations’ available resources mediate this access and
various resources facilitate their political activity. Typically these include financial
and political resources, access to information, knowledge, expertise, and socio
political support. Individuals and organizations have differential access to resources.
The socio-economic characteristics of members and leaders, as well as the
associations’ political and economic contexts, influence amount and kind of
resources that NAs can acquire. In this study, I examine two sets of organizational
resources with different origins. The first is internal resources. These resources are
derived from members’ socio-economic characteristics, their level of commitment to
the organization, the NA’s degree of formalization and style of leadership, and the
ways in which the NAs gain legitimacy in the community. The second set of
organizational resources is external. These resources stem from the complex
combination of economic, cultural, and political characteristics of the locale—the
places where associations operate actively.
This chapter primarily focuses on the differing internal resources of NAs in
my study area. Yet it is not always a simple matter to distinguish internal resources
from external ones. Mostly they are interwoven and their interrelations shape NAs’
abilities to influence broader decision-making processes. They intersect with each
other in the daily community work of NA members, such as Maria, who lives in my
study area.
150
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Maria is a working class woman of color. In early 1970s, she migrated to the
United States from El Salvador. She leads a neighborhood block club and a resident-
based community development organization in her neighborhood. When explaining
her reasons for becoming involved in these grassroots groups, she recalls a meeting
in the office of her council district that she and her church group of 150 people
attended. Mostly first generation Latino immigrants, they were there to get their
Councilman’s support of plans to have a supermarket in their area. With only one
supermarket and with liquor stores on every comer, the residents were frustrated
with their inability to access to healthy food options in their area. Thinking that they
deserved the same choices as other residents of Los Angeles, such as those who live
in affluent West LA, Maria was puzzled by the Councilman’s treatment of them at
the meeting:
We wanted to be heard. One hundred and fifty people is a lot of
people, right? It was to be listened to. They treat(ed) us with
disrespect; “Sit Downl” {original emphasis). And thereby you can’t
talk, right? “If you’re gonna talk this way, you’re not allowed to
talk.”
Maria realized that she and her church members were not familiar with the formal
procedures of council meetings and felt that the staff did not treat them with “the
respect (they) were entitled to as citizens.” A small group of residents from
“preservationist” NAs—that is, NAs with gentrifiers—was there too. Mostly made
up of middle-class people of different races and holding professional and managerial
jobs, this group was “so sophisticated, knew what’s going on,” according to Maria.
Her group, on the contrary, was “naive on everything” although “(her) people are
trying hard to know the governmental system here.”
Her daily experiences of working closely with local members of this group
suggests to Maria that these NAs with gentrifiers have better access to
151
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
governmental decision-making processes than do her NA members. Also she
acknowledges that these associations have different ways of operating, internally and
externally, and work better with governmental bureaucracy: “[they are] very
organized, like a big corporation.” Yet she intentionally chooses not to have this
kind of structure and style of community organizing. She points out that her
association has fewer resources and that a “very” structured organization might
discourage her members from getting involved in her grassroots group. These
experiences are not unique to Maria. My interviews with NA members suggest that
local grassroots groups, such as NAs, in the same residential area have differing
access to decision-makings, which are mediated by their available resources.
Acquiring the ‘right’ amount and kind of resources creates opportunities for NAs.
Yet the absence and mismatch of NA resources with what is required by competitive
institutional environments constrain NAs’ abilities to develop their capacity.
This chapter examines the internal resources—basically those brought to the
organization by its membership and leadership—of two groups of NAs in my study
area and describes the processes that result in differential access to resources for the
two groups. In Chapter Four, I suggested that NAs in my study differ according to
their members’ social and place relations. One group of NAs is made up of middle
class people of different races—but mostly white—who have professional jobs and
ownership of local historical houses. I call them NAs with gentrifiers. Another
group of NAs is made up of working class people of color with jobs in the service
sector or no paid employment.
The first section of this chapter examines NAs’ resources based on their
membership. Membership base is a significant part of organization’s internal
structure (Gittell 1980; Knoke and Wood 1981). It is an important source of internal
152
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
resources such as time, financial support, knowledge, expertise, and network-based
resources. I examine these resources along with members’ roles, responsibilities,
and experiences in various social realms. In other words, I look at members’ socio
economic characteristics as part of the processes that facilitate their involvement.
This section details these processes in relation to member’s family care and paid-job
responsibilities. Focusing on mostly temporal resources, this section shows that the
two groups of NAs differ according to their internal resources. NAs with gentrifiers
have greater capacity based on these resources, mostly in respect to their available
“flexible” time for activism. By elaborating on paid job and family responsibilities,
this section argues that divisions and hierarchies in the labor market, based on race,
ethnicity, immigration status, nationality, and gender, impact members’ temporal
resources for participating in NAs.
The second section argues that the membership resources and individual
capacities influence leaders’ resources and, thus, their performance as leaders. In my
study area, deficiencies in members’ resources place a heavy burden on leaders -
especially the leaders of working class NAs. This also influences the emergence of
charismatic individual leaders in working class NAs and leadership cadres in NAs
with gentrifiers, despite attempts for rotating leadership. Leaders redefine their roles
and strategies to adjust for limitations in their own individual and membership-based
resources. I define leadership performance in terms of leaders’ capacities and styles
of working with communities and governmental bureaucracies. NA leaders need to
develop distinct communication skills and resources to work simultaneously within
these two realms. My findings suggest that there are considerable differences in the
ways in which leaders of two groups of NAs consider and utilize their members’
socioeconomic resources, and develop their styles of leadership within community.
153
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
These differences between leaders appear in how they structure and run NA
meetings and in the language they use to encourage members’ involvement.
Working class leaders use strategies designed to sustain membership participation,
whereas gentrifier-leaders are more task-oriented to get tangible results. Also,
besides having limited resources to work within the bureaucracies of the state
apparatus, most working class leaders have fewer and more limited contact with state
agencies than gentrifier-leaders.
PART 1. INDIVIDUAL RESOURCES FOR PARTICIPATING IN NAs
Most of the NA members are homeowners in the area, although the
gentrifiers are mostly first-time home-buyers. Additionally, most of the members of
both types of NAs became involved in their organizations in 1980s. As stated in
Chapter Four, however, the length of their stay in the area before they became
involved in their NA differs between the two groups of NAs. Gentrifiers got
involved in their NA either the year they moved or at the time they were planning to
move in the area. Members of working class NAs got involved in their NA long
after—10 years or more—they moved into the area. Most of the core members in
this group have lived in the community longer than most of the gentrifier-members
have. Thus, contrary to findings (Hunter 1978; Ahlbrandt 1984), those who have
lived in a neighborhood longer have not necessarily been involved in NAs longer
than others with shorter residencies.
In addition, almost all gentrifiers say that becoming a homeowner in the area
is the main reason for their participation in their NA immediately after their move-in.
Cary, for example, explains:
Well, we took a tour (of historic houses in the area). I always wanted
a styled-house.. .always. We saw the realtor then. We realized we
could afford to buy a house here. . . . (Realtors) make a point in
154
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
introducing their client to West Heritage Adams Association. ...
And when you first move in, you’re trying to fix the house. (The
association) is a wonderful support group.
Yet to answer my question of why they did not become involved earlier, members of
working class NAs do not talk about significance of community issues like the
gentrifiers did. Their stories suggest, first, that their family care responsibilities
prevented them from becoming involved in NAs earlier than they did. Pat, a long
time resident explains:
Pat: I’m involved since 1995.... Because of the problems, shootings,
break-ins...
Fatma: Fifteen years after you moved in here? You didn’t have these
problems earlier?
Pat: Let me put this way. I was one of those who were not directly
affected. In 1995,1 saw the need to make it better place to live. It
was wonderful, because we had a good relationship with the senior
lead officer. . . . But prior that, I was busy. I worked, going to
college, had two kids, had someone to watch them. I guess I was so
busy, I didn’t have time for anything until I got older.
Residents’ involvement in NAs can not be explained by a simple notion of ‘place
attachment’ which is mediated by duration of residency or by status as a homeowner.
Furthermore, although the conventional literature suggests that families with young
children are more motivated to become involved than those without, the experiences
of the residents I interviewed suggest otherwise. According to the literature, families
with young children tend to put more effort into local grassroots groups such as
parent or neighborhood associations. Indeed, the community participation literature
predicts that homeowners (Cox 1982; Baum and Kingston 1984), those who are well
endowed with socioeconomic resources (Schlozman et al. 1994), those with long
term residencies (Ahlbrandt 1984), and those with young children are more likely to
participate in voluntary organizations (Suttles 1972). While this might explain
155
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
their initial motivation for becoming involved, the stories of especially the working
class women in my study area suggest that these motivations are not sufficient, and
that access to resources is necessary for participating in NAs. Stories of NA
members reveal how women’s and men’s family roles and responsibilities shape
their resources in complicated ways. Regardless of their motivations for
participation, residents’ responsibilities and roles create opportunities for or barriers
to participation in NAs.
From “Who Participates” to “Who Can Participate”
The literature describes resources for political activity in terms of
individuals’ education, income, and more recently, family responsibilities (see Bums
et al. 1997). The economic and social standing of individuals and social groups
constitute barriers to and opportunities for becoming active citizens and (Verba et al.
1995; Staeheli and Cope 1994). These also influence the resources that the
membership base brings to NAs. As a way of understanding the amount and kind of
resources contributed by members, examining members’ socio-economic
characteristics is common in the literature. This approach also considers the question
of “who participates.” Yet this approach has a couple of analytical problems. First,
and as suggested above, there is a tendency to replace the question of “who
participates” with the question of “why they participate,” which mistakenly suggests
a causal relationship between the motivations and characteristics of participants.
Also, and like other modem social sciences, urban planning often looks at the socio
economic and demographic characteristics of participants as isolated from each
other, such as blacks/whites, old/young, and woman/man. This compartmentalizes
people’s social experiences and standings within power relations and does not
provide any room for understanding how structural factors, such as class, race,
156
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
ethnicity, and gender, intersect with each other and other social relations. Finally,
the question of “who participates” examines the socio-economic and demographic
characteristics of active participants only at participation stages, ignoring the
processes that recruit or fail to recruit new members.
Why do such problems occur? I argue that the answer relates to the
conventional thinking of individuals’ social standings as limited only to one social
realm and, thus, the treatment of social realms as separate spheres. I discuss this in
detail in Chapter One. I further argue that the perception of the neighborhood as a
private space plays a dominant role in this approach to neighborhood activism5 5 .
Generally this understanding of neighborhood activism strongly associates local
activists’ characteristics, their reasons for participating, and the material spaces they
use for activism. That is, it links the conditions, motivations and locations of
activism in a causal relationship. The idea of the neighborhood as “private”—that is,
feminine, passive, and apolitical—space is the leading component in this trilogy.
Consequently conventional approaches sometimes interpret the characteristics and
motivations of local participants in relation to their concerns and issues about
“private” space.
To improve ways of analyzing residents’ resources for participating in NAs, I
suggest shifting from the question of “who participates” to “who can participate.”
55 This is an extension o f the argument that the division between public and private spheres has been an
ideological abstraction. Yet this division has continuous effects on how we think o f social roles, responsibilities,
experiences, and urban space, for instance, the differential economic and political power o f men and women; or
through moral judgments made about the behavior o f women and men in “public” spaces (see Valentine 1992).
Also in urban planning, the notion o f separate spheres for women and men has evolved as a powerful limiting
factor that restricts women’s use o f space and thus, reinforces associations between femininity, privacy, and
suburban space (Saegert 1980; Mackenzie 1989; Hayden 1980). This abstraction has influenced the way we
imagine the individuals who are able to “join” the public sphere and thus, the “polity.” In this social imagination,
the meanings o f gender and o f the distinction between public and domestic are intertwined. According to
Pateman, “the concept o f the individual in the public domain is imbued with characteristics that are deemed
inherently masculine, such as rationality, while the individual o f the private domain is imbued with
characteristics deemed feminine” (Pateman 1989: 121). In this understanding, because o f its implicit masculine
connotations, the public domain is valued more highly than the private domain.
157
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
The latter puts the emphasis on resources rather than the social characteristics of
participants. I then argue for examining this question while thinking of individuals’
everyday experiences as continuous across social realms. Their social roles and
responsibilities across social realms—here, the workplace and domestic realm—
affect their standing in community activism (Bookman and Morgen 1980; Ackelberg
1980; Milroy and Wismer 1994; Staeheli 1996). Thus, contrary to mainstream
approaches to public and private spheres, this approach does not work on social
realms as discrete forms, but as fluid or continuous (Benn and Gaus 1983). This
allows the identification of spaces, interests, and actions without implying that they
are either absolutely or ideally public or private (Staeheli 1996). This also suggests
that the relationship between public and private may change over time and with
respect to different issues, or for different groups or individuals as power relations
that shape them change.
Gendered Resources for Involving in Community Activism
In this chapter, I suggest that individuals’ resources come from then-
gendered roles and responsibilities in relation to their race and class positions. This
might highlight hidden facades of capacity building for local activism. Here I do not
explain class, race and ethnicity, and gender as direct causes of these differences but
as a part of the complex web of social and economic relations that shape access to
resources. Social interrelations and processes mediated particularly within
institutions such as local governments, workplaces, schools, families, and
community organizations, and formal and informal settings such as urban public
spaces, neighborhoods, and streets, shape individuals’ distinct social standings. In
158
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
particular, I focus on how NA members’ family care and paid job roles and
responsibilities impact their resources for participating in their NA5 6 .
Working Class People of Color, especially Women
In examining these relations for members of working class NAs, I focus
mostly on working class women of color. This is not the result of any personal
choice or fieldwork convenience. Indeed, the majority of members in these working
class NAs are women. A few men participate as well, but less regularly. Women
carry the main work load in these NAs.
Among all activists in the two groups of NAs, working women of color are
more likely to claim that their responsibilities for child and family care prevent them
from participating in local activism. Nancy explains:
So we were involved in that [activism]. (Then) I was one of the
original board members in Esperanza (Housing) Corporation. At the
time I was taking care of my grandmother. My girls were in high
school. And my family needs were becoming greater. So I ended up
not being involved in the board anymore. . . . So I stepped back.
Then we fast-forwarded about 12 years, and I am involved in again
(and formed this NA).
At first glance, Nancy’s story of her history of local activism suggests that the less
time individuals spend on family care responsibilities, the more time they have for
participating in NAs. This is a reasonable conclusion if the focus of analysis is
solely on individuals’ responsibilities in one social sphere. Yet such explanations
fail when I look at my fieldwork data more closely. Overall one third of all members
in both groups of NAs (11 out of 33) were parenting their pre-school children before
56 After I completed the majority o f my fieldwork, I realized that in this examination I should have
included also family social structure-related to money and time, the power to make independent decisions— with
respect to allocation o f whatever money and time available to the family, and relative respect within the family,
and the role o f beliefs about appropriate gender roles in enhancing political activity. Future research including
these will definitely add more to the findings given in this chapter.
159
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
they became involved in their NA. Interestingly, however, their child care
responsibilities before and during their involvement did not change for most of the
members. Including working class women of color, they continued to raise children
even after their involvement.
The fact that they perceived child and family care responsibilities to be a
barrier to involvement, even though they were still active caregivers when they
became involved in the NAs, puzzled me for a while. Then I looked at the other
time-consuming responsibilities they had, such as their paid job responsibilities, any
shared responsibilities with their spouse, other care-giving responsibilities, such as
taking care of husbands, fathers, mothers, and so on. Nancy is an example of one
who did not initially give her paid job responsibilities as a reason for not becoming
involved in local activism. She detailed them only when I asked about her history of
job experiences:
At the age of 19,1 got married. But my marriage got bad, he had
drinking problems. So we got divorced, I kept the apartment we had.
I had already two babies with 13 months difference. I was working in
a doctor’s office at that time. 1972 or so... I was earning $70 or so per
week. I said, it’s going nowhere. So decided to go back to school. I
wanted to work in law, but being a lawyer was too high for me. I
decided to be a law-secretary. Meanwhile, I kept working and going
back to school in the evening. . . . One of my kids was in the kinder
garden; I lied about her age. The young one was taken care of by my
mom. Later I found a second job and also started to work in a law
firm. Working as a law secretary almost 30 years. I changed 3 firms,
meanwhile.
As I looked at Nancy’s and others’ paid job responsibilities prior to and at the time
they became involved in NAs, it became clear that the working class women were
more likely than the gentrifiers to be experiencing some transitions in their lives.
Most of the working class people of color with paid-jobs got involved in NAs after
they shifted to a new job, although they still were parenting their young children.
160
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
For some women, this shift did not necessarily provide them more time, but gave
them more control over their work hours and workplaces. For instance, Maria
shifted from a job as a cleaning lady to a full time job as a permanent cook for a
family. When Maria migrated to US from El Salvador, during the civil war, she was
a single parent. Four years later, she sent for her daughter to join her in the United
States. Maria explains the circumstances of her life when she arrived in the US:
I came here, didn’t marry, lived with this man for 15 years. He had
before me five children. They used to come here and stay here. I
almost raised part time those kids with my kids. Everybody was
fleeing from my country; they had no place to go. So this house, you
would always find people living here. When they started to find a
job, they would go out. So I have been putting a lot of people.
While dealing with her extended family care, she was working as a cleaning lady.
This is a challenging occupation. It requires a sometimes daily search for paid work,
usually in different workplaces and with different bosses. Maria had to work in
multiple places the same day and week and had no job security. While her kids were
pre-teens, she started working as a cook only for one family. It is a better paying job
and relatively secure, given that it has a predetermined time and place. Maria has
been working there for 20 years. Meanwhile, her family care responsibilities got
more manageable as the children became adolescents. She married another man with
a secure and stable job in Los Angeles City. Shortly after these changes, she
initiated a block club in her neighborhood, being encouraged to do so by another
block club leader. Like others, still she tries to manage her leadership roles in
community along with her paid job and family care responsibilities.
Stories like those of Nancy, Maria and other women reveal how their
multiple roles and responsibilities - especially their gendered roles and
responsibilities - cross domestic and public realms. When these women emphasize
161
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
their child and family care responsibilities as the primary barrier to their community
involvement, they are not giving any false excuses. They do not mention their paid
job responsibilities as a barrier, not because they do not have very demanding or time
consuming jobs, but because they identify their primary role as the caretaker of their
family. In their experiences as caregivers, however, “family” might extend beyond
the nuclear family to include non-kin as well. Their gendered role as caregiver
consumes an enormous amount of these women’s time and psychic and physical
energy.
Not having any paid job responsibility eased some members’ involvement in
NAs. A number of members in the working class associations do not have any
current paid-jobs (5 out of 13). They are either homemakers or retirees from jobs in
the service sector. Judith, Emily, and Vera are widow-activists over the age of 70,
whereas the average age among all activists is around 50. Gabby, at 42, is younger
than most of the unemployed women, but had to quit her job as a nurse in order to
take care of her aging and ailing husband. Although practically speaking, this did
not change her caregiving responsibilities; it did change her work space. Now the
neighborhood is the space for her unpaid care work, which made it easier for her to
get involved with community work as well.
Their responsibilities for family care, paid-job, and community work makes
mostly women activists’ gendered role as “traditional” care takers an enormous
work. Lack of spousal support in paid jobs and family care doubles these women’s
already heavy loads. Among the working class women of color, some are married.
Their spouses also hold jobs in the service sector and usually do not get involved in
community work, other than to attend the occasional NA meeting. Meanwhile, a
considerable number of interviewed members in both groups of associations are
162
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
single (12 out of 33). They are either never married or divorced or widowed. A few
of the single working class women are parents. Both Pat and Jenny are African
American single mothers. Prior to becoming involved in their NA, both were raising
their teenage kids and both were getting ready to shift from one full time job to
another in the service sector. Pat moved in the area partly to be close to her
widowed cousin so that “(they) can look out for each other. She is my kids’
godmother as well as a cousin.” Before her involvement, Pat was working as a
government employee. Closer to her early retirement at the age of 47, she was going
to evening school to get her credentials to become a pastor. After her retirement and
the start of her new career as a pastor in a nearby neighborhood, she initiated a block
club for her street. Having her work located closer to her neighborhood and having
flexible working hours provides her more flexibility for community activism.
Gentrifiers. especially Married Couples
Contrary to those in the working class NAs, the single gentrifiers I
interviewed are mostly never-married white men and a few divorced white women in
their early 50s without kids. There are more married-couple activists in these NAs
than in the working class NAs as well. One of these couples is Rita and Ted. After
they moved into the area, Rita became the president of their already-active NA.
Meanwhile, as part of their association, Ted initiated an after school program for
neighborhood kids. Ted had majored in public administration and retired from U.S.
Navy; he helped Rita in writing proposals to turn the NA into a non-profit
association and to get grants for their after school program. Rita is an actress in the
film industry. Using her job networks, she gets monetary and supplemental
donations for their NA’s garage sale, which is a major source of income for the NA.
With no kids and a flexible work schedule, Rita is able to use her daytime hours
163
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
for community work, to make calls to city hall or the council office during business
hours, and to “get things done.” Lately, however, Rita has decided to step back from
her community work since her husband’s declining health requires her care.
Among some couple-activists in this group of NAs, the wife is either the only
spouse holding a paid-job, like Rita, or the main breadwinner, as in the case of
George and Stacy. This couple moved in the area in 1978, earlier than most of the
gentrifiers in the area. At that time, the Community Redevelopment Agency (CRA)
identified the area as one of its project areas5 7 . Stacy got involved in one of the
CRA’s advisory citizen committees. Later she joined the West Adams Heritage
Association5 8 and a NA focusing on historic preservation issues. Five years later,
George joined her too after he lost his job in the animation field, which was
undergoing a number of technological transformations.
Overall most gentrifiers are married couples without school-aged children. In
some cases, gentrifier couples moved into the area and got involved in community
activism after their kids were grown. Today most members are in their 50s or older,
although a few members are in their 30s. The latter are mostly Latinos like Hector,
who is married with young kids. Hector and his wife are both elementary school
teachers. His wife is not actively involved in their NA and Hector says that one
activist from their family is enough because they have two pre-school kids. Thus, he
thinks that his wife already has enough work to do. Hector teaches in a local
elementary school. Having his workplace in his neighborhood provides him with the
flexibility that comes with having one’s paid-workplace as part of one’s community
57 The CRA is a government agency that redevelops blighted areas. See Chapter 2 and its footnotes for
further details about this agency and the redevelopment projects in the area.
58 See Chapter 7.
164
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
work space. Thus, he flexibly shifts between his paid job and community work
hours.
Hector is not the only gentrifier who works in such a flexible space. A group
of gentrifiers work in their neighborhoods. They either have paid-jobs in the area,
for instance, as a local teacher or the director of an education center, or are self-
employed, such as the owner of a local bed & breakfast or local housing developers
or landlords5 9 . Thus, the location of their workplaces and the type of work they do,
provide these activists with a lot of flexible time and space for working on
community issues.
Time and Space Flexibility for Community Activism
Findings of this section suggest that having a flexible schedule and time is
critical for getting involved in NAs, rather than simply having available time, as
suggested in literature. Similar to part-time jobs, full-time jobs too might provide
flexible time for community work. However, a couple of issues are important to
highlight. Stable jobs, in terms of income and workplace security, and well-paying
jobs are necessary to create time for local activism. In my study, while some types
of jobs might provide more free daytime hours, and thus, chances to contact
governmental institutions, a stable and sufficient income for one’s family is a must
for most activists in order to continue their activism. Also, within certain limits and
through the redefinition of some of their roles and responsibilities, most NA
members are able to create flexible time and space for community work. For
instance, those holding jobs related to or located within the local community have
opportunities to get involved in community work. They combine their paid job
59 Other than their homes, one fourth o f the activists in the sample (7 out o f 33) has other properties,
mostly rental units in their area, and thus, are landlords too. Almost all o f these activists are among gentrifier-
activists. See Chapter 4 for details.
165
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
space with their community space, and create more flexible time for both their paid
and community work.
Once residents create flexible time and space for community involvement,
however, their continuity is not guaranteed. Women members’ involvement, in
particular, can be off and on due primarily to increasing family care
responsibilities6 0 . However, these responsibilities involve more than just child care.
They also include various care-giving responsibilities for extended family members
and sometimes for those without any blood relation. At this point, spousal support
for women’s paid and unpaid work responsibilities is critical for creating the
conditions for their continued participation in NAs. Those without spousal or other
support at these responsibilities, such as single female parents in my study area, are
routinely on and off at their involvement.
The two groups of NAs in my study have different opportunities in terms of
their ability to acquire flexible time and space for community work. A single female
parent who is working in a low-paying service job has very different opportunities
for and barriers to her community work than a childless couple with two well-paying
professional jobs. Working class women in particular have limited abilities to create
flexible time as a resource for local activism. According to various studies, women
of color compose a high percentage of service workers in the current US labor force
(Glenn 1985; Peake 1995; Ong and Blumenberg 1996; Pincus and Ehrlich et al
1999). For most working class people, hours spent doing community work are hours
unpaid, and most interviewees say they cannot afford to let their community work
come in the way of their paid jobs. Moreover, redefining one’s job responsibilities
within community space usually requires monetary and/or educational resources.
60 This might be also the case for paid-job responsibilities, although I have no data regarding that.
166
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
These resources are more commonly available to the gentrifier-members in my study
and are less available to working class people of color.
Members’ Level of Activism in NAs
While having time and space flexibility enables members to work on
community issues, their level of activism impacts the resources qualitatively and
quantitatively available to the NA, such as time and labor power. As detailed below,
NA members spend time for activism not only for NA-related work but also for their
involvement in other grassroots organizations, which also improves their NAs’
internal resources. However, overall the two groups of NAs differ in their
proportions of members with high, moderate and low level of activism, which
impacts the internal and leadership structures of the NAs distinctly as well.
Resources Gained through Members’ Involvement in Other Grassroots Groups
Members’ past and recent involvement in grassroots groups, other than their
NA, provide them with personal resources such as knowledge, skills, and networks.
These groups might provide alternative and wider discussion platforms, leadership
trainings, or access to a pool of experts or other knowledge-based resources. They
might also cultivate certain political perspectives within their membership which, in
turn, might shape the political agendas of the NAs, and also provide socio-political
support to NAs’ agendas at broader political scale. Depending on a particular
member’s level of activism in these groups, such involvement might provide them
with an understanding of how the government and similar bureaucratic systems
work. I discuss further such organizational networks in Chapter 7.
Differences between the two groups of NAs continue to emerge as I look at
members’ patterns of activism before and after they became involved in their NA.
167
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Half of the gentrifier-interviewees (9 out of 20) were active in various grassroots
groups prior their involvement in their NA. Working class NAs, however, have
fewer members with any history of activism (4 out of 13). Nearly all members in
both groups with prior experiences of activism continue to be involved with
organizations outside of their NA6 1 . Meanwhile, members with no prior experiences
tend to become involved in other activist groups as well, once becoming involved in
their NA. This is especially true for working class members, 54% of which (7 of 13)
became involved with other activist work (compared to 6 of 20 gentrifier members).
In addition, the kinds of groups with which they became involved are
important in defining the variety of resources that members might bring to their NA.
Due to the kind of groups that they were involved in, gentrifier-members have more
expertise-, knowledge- and network-based resources than those in working class
NAs. Their prior activism is mostly related to their paid employment. They were a
union member, or involved with voluntary groups organized around issues related to
their jobs such as environmental issues, education, or political rights. They dealt
with issues that allowed them to work with various public policies and public and
private agencies. This impacts their awareness of and skills in working with multiple
agencies, as well as their access to institutional resources on relevant issues. In
working class NAs, members with prior organizing experiences dealt with workplace
related activism as well, but only in their native countries, not in United States.
After moving into the area, they were involved in community organizing mostly
through local churches. Church groups, as a platform for political activity, have their
own limitations especially with regard to learning how bureaucratic systems work, as
detailed in Chapter 7.
61 Three out o f 13 working class activists and 6 out o f 20 gentrifiers.
168
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Interestingly, the kind of groups that members become involved with after
participating in their NA differs between the two groups of NAs. Regardless of the
type of NA, those with prior activist experiences did not continue with the same
groups after involving in their NA. They shifted to other grassroots groups that their
members without any prior experiences of activism become involved in. Yet
members of these two groups of NAs join in different grassroots groups. Gentrifier-
members join organizations focusing on historic preservation or real estate
development. Working class members become involved in organizations focusing
on community and economic development. I detail these organizational networks in
Chapter 7.
Level of Activism and Internal Structure of NAs
Members of the working class NAs tend to be either highly or minimally
active6 2 . Slightly more than one third of the members I interviewed (5 out of 13) are
highly active. Most of these are in leadership positions. The rest are members with
low level of activism; no one is moderately active. In comparison, half of the
gentrifier-members (10 out of 20) have high levels of activism. This includes not
only leaders but also members. The remaining gentrifiers in my sample are evenly
divided into two groups of moderately and minimally active members (5 out of 20
for both). That the working class associations had a higher percentage of members
with low levels of involvement is not a surprise for the reasons stated in the first
section of this chapter. It also relates to the fewer time-, knowledge-, and network-
based resources among working class members, compared to the gentrifiers.
62 In measuring the level of activism by members. T define more than 2 hours per week for any kind of
activism as high, between 1 and 2 hours as moderate, and less than 1 hour as low level o f activism (McCourt
1977).
169
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Such resources brought by the membership influence the internal and
leadership structures of the NAs. How meetings proceed, how responsibilities are
assigned to members and leaders, and who makes decisions and takes action on
behalf of the association, directly relates to these resources. In working class NAs,
the leaders tend to be the only ones with high levels of activism. Monthly
association meetings are the only times that most members are actively involved, and
the elected board members are rarely more active than the average members. Thus,
the leadership of the working class NAs is carried primarily by the elected president
of NAs. Forming committees to work on specific issues is uncommon in these NAs.
In those few attempts, a few members volunteer to follow up on an issue on behalf of
their NA. Still, in the end, leaders make almost all decisions and actions. Also
because none of the members have high or moderate levels of activism, the chances
of leaders getting members’ help with the daily or even weekly routines of
community work are slim. And when the leaders’ own paid job and family
responsibilities increase, the very survival of the NAs is at risk.
The NAs with gentrifiers, however, have a relatively extensive membership-
base with higher levels of activism. Not only the leaders but also some of the
members are highly active. In addition, the leadership base is wider than in the
working class NAs. Led by an elected president, both annually elected board
members and issue-based committees provide this base. Although the president
remains very important as the main contact person and coordinator, both the high
number and level of efforts tends to increase the quality of community work in these
NAs and pace of getting results. Also these highly active members replace their
leaders, for instance, when leaders’ flexible time for activism declines. While this
170
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
maintains the NA’s presence and pace of work, the members with moderate levels of
activism also serve to sustain the organization.
Ideally, the leadership in both groups of NAs would rotate. However, most
leaders lead for more than ten years. Due to their relatively greater resources as well
as their styles of leadership and dedication to community work, they feel the need to
run for the seat over and over. Also although most current leaders try to find new
leaders, they are not always satisfied with the results. There is either no candidate or
no appearance after election. As Maria, a leader in a working class NA explains,
“they disappear, or show up only in the meetings without any preparation in
advance.” In sum, although current leaders say they intend to rotate their leadership,
the tendency is to have constant and charismatic leadership in these associations (see
Gittell 1980).
PART 2. LEADERSHIP CAPACITIES AND STYLES
Leaders are an important part of the internal resources for NAs, a fact that is
well described in the literature (Gittell 1980; Rich 1980b; Knoke and Wood 1981).
Leaders are the key to organizational effectiveness. They shape the agendas of
meetings and transmit their ideals and goals for community building to the local
community and to decision makers at the city level. Also, in the case of my study
area, the long duration of their leadership makes their roles much more visible.
All these leaders have distinct capacities and styles of leadership. This
section describes the similarities and differences of leaders’ resources for working
within their communities and with governmental and bureaucratic systems.
Resources brought by the membership have an important influence on leadership, as
do the leaders’ own individual capacities. Along with these capacities, leaders’
awareness of their NA’s resources influences their leadership performances and
171
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
styles in the sphere of community organizing. For leaders of NAs, this is a
transitional sphere. In this sphere, they must work both with the community
(especially NA members) and within the bureaucracy of public and private agencies.
This requires them to employ different working styles, or “languages,” and to shift
between these two different contexts flexibly. These are not similar languages. One
of them defines leaders’ styles of communicating with and mobilizing their
community. The other one ideally enables them to work within bureaucratic
systems.
Working within this sphere as a leader has its own contradictions and
challenges. Nancy is the only working class leader who has a managerial job. She is
a legal secretary. Using her network-based resources and job skills, she considerably
eased her NA’s battle against big entities, such as the school district and the
transportation authority that were planning to demolish their houses in order to build
new projects. In contrast to her NA members, Nancy is comfortable writing official
letters and following legal procedures, as well as with long-term planning and public
hearing processes. She ultimately learned that residents could challenge these
institutions’ decisions if they suggested alternative project sites. During her
weekends, she drove around her neighborhood, took pictures, and found alternative
project sites. Two years later, the officials agreed to shift their project to the site that
Nancy found for them.
NA members say that Nancy is the leader because she is very “efficient.”
That is, she knows where to go or who to ask for assistance and information, and
how to talk to officials to get their attention. Yet Nancy says that the reason she is
the leader is because no one else in the NA is willing to take on as much
responsibility as she does. Nancy says that NA members have dual full-time paid
172
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
jobs and family responsibilities, which does not leave them much time for
community work. She has similar responsibilities, but also has the skills and
resources that enable her to finish community tasks efficiently and quickly. Besides
these responsibilities, she identifies with her community when she complains that
officials are not informing “residents in this area about any decisions related to this
neighborhood.” In sum, she explains members’ low level of participation usually in
terms of their limited resources, based on time, money, and knowledge.
Yet in one case, Nancy could not help but express frustration with some NA
members. She saw that some members perceive “community” only in relation to
their close geographic proximity, but not in terms of social identity, such as
identifying “communities” based on shared immigrant status or ethnicity. The case
was about finding an alternative site for the mostly Hispanic vendors in their
neighborhood. Nancy came up with a plan to relocate them in the area. She
organized a community meeting. Nearly all the neighbors were Hispanic. With a
very low attendance of vendors, a new opinion among the neighbors arose: “We
don’t want to relocate (them). We don’t want any vending in the neighborhood.”
Nancy did not comment and mostly directed flow of the meeting. Not all members
were against the presence of vendors in their area. They pointed out that like
themselves these vendors are Hispanic, first-generation immigrants, with families,
and trying to earn a living. Yet the opposing view was sharp: “We don’t want
them.” In my conversation with her after the meeting, Nancy called the opposition
group’s unwillingness to relocate vendors as a “shame.” But she also understood
their point: “I’m not living on that street, but they are. Trash is everywhere.” Still
she expressed frustration: “Nobody wants to take charge of dealing with relocation.
They just want police [to] kick vendors out.”
173
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
As in Nancy’s case, leaders’ social standings in webs of power relations and
in place-based relations of their neighborhood influence their performances and role
definitions as leaders. Yet since these relations are not fixed even at neighborhood
scale, leadership performances and styles vary among these NA leaders and over
time, as detailed in the following sections.
Women Leading ... But Within Different Contexts
How do leaders’ individual and membership resources impact their styles and
capacities of working with the community and within bureaucratic governmental
systems? An important part of this discussion is how these leaders’ gender, class,
race and ethnicity, and place relations impact their styles and resources. As stated
earlier, modem social sciences tend to look at these relations as separate
characteristics of individuals. Given that the majority of leaders are women, this
approach might easily conclude that this is a reflection of women’s care-giving
responsibilities within “private space,” that is, in the home and neighborhood. This
view interestingly is also common in some feminist works focusing on women
activists and leaders. Most feminist works on women’s community activism
demonstrate how women’s seemingly private sphere becomes public, their local
concerns become city-wide, and their traditionally female roles are empowered
through their activism. However, although most of them look at the mechanisms of
these processes through a gender relations lens, they explain women’s reasons for
activism in relation to their family responsibilities, mostly as an extension of their
“motherhood.” Thus, both of these approaches take individuals’ gender roles and
174
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
responsibilities as stripped from the contexts of their other social relations shaped by,
for instance, race and ethnicity, class, and age.
Here I look at women leaders’ social relations as part of the forces of racism
and class-divisions, especially for working class women of color (Hill Collins 1990;
Anzaldua 1990; Peake 1995; Pulido 1997; Naples et a l l 998; Pardo 1998). In the
preceding chapters and section of this chapter, I described the complex interplay of
these relations in members’ urban experiences with respect to their motivations and
resources for community activism. This section examines how these leaders
perceive these interplays and their own leadership roles within webs of power
relations. Later I argue that leaders’ styles of working with their community directly
reflect their perceptions of the limits and advantages imposed on them due to their
socioeconomic status. There they are more capable of working with the community
than of working with governmental systems. In working with the latter, especially
working class leaders’ capacities and styles as leaders are constrained.
In order to understand their compatibility with their membership base and,
thus, the distinct resources they bring to their NA, first, I briefly introduce these
leaders based on their socioeconomic characteristics. Briefly, leaders of NAs do not
necessarily have more flexible time than their members do. Compared to the
membership, leaders have more knowledge- and network-based resources due, in
large part, to their experiences of leading their NA for more than five or even ten
years. All of the leaders are women, and all are in their early fifties or older. The
working class leaders are women of color. Two are African American, one is
American Indian, two are originally from Mexico, and another two are El
Salvadoran. This is quite a contrast to the gentrified leaders who all are white. In
both types of NAs, the leaders’ racial and ethnic origin reflects that of the majority of
175
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the members in their association, except in the case of the American Indian leader.
With respect to their work and family responsibilities, as well as income,
most working class leaders are better off than the majority of their members.
Gentrified leaders are mostly equal to the majority of their NA members. They have
full-time paid jobs along with family responsibilities. Half of the working class
leaders do not have paid employment; this group is made up of women who are
homemakers and/or over the age of sixty five. Finally, nearly half of both the
working class and gentrifier-leaders have a history of activism prior their NA. As
mentioned earlier, a history of activism is more common among the gentrifier
members than working class members.
Working within the Community
Members’ and leaders’ perceptions of community issues relate to their
perceptions of community characteristics. These perceptions influence the ways
leaders approach their leadership roles within their community. Identifying the
majority of residents as working class and poor people of color, most members
acknowledge that public and private institutions neglect the social and economic
development of local communities, as detailed in Chapters 3 and 4. Regardless of
their race and class, all of the women leaders express their sense of policy makers’
“neglect” of this area as a part of South Central LA.
Yet these leaders identify with this spatially and socially defined community
according to their own positions within social and place relations. As detailed in
Chapter Four too, they have different ways of explaining this neglect and, thus, ways
of approaching to leadership roles. Gentrifier-leaders’ explanations focus on the
area’s history with red-lining and low income communities. They suggest that
176
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“people here do not know how to organize” and, thus, how to ask for public services.
Betty explains:
(This area) has been always looked as a poor area, and “well, we
don’t take care of this.” . . . Many years ago, we had poor people
here. I’m not putting down them as poor, but they don’t know how to
do things. You have to keep push, push, push, and they didn’t know
how to do it. Even if there was some they would do it, they would
have done at the end. But you have to keep pushing the things.
Gentrifier-leaders emphasize residents’ class status as the reason for “being ignored”
by the government and also for not knowing how to work with bureaucratic
procedures. They point out class-place relations to explain the low degree of urban
services and economic investment in the area over time. Working class leaders
agree, with similar explanations. They emphasize that their community does not
how the “System” (that is, bureaucratic and governmental systems) works. In their
remarks, however, they use terms like “we” or “our community,” rather than “people
here,” in referring to the collective entity that lacks this knowledge. Maria’s
comments illustrate this point:
Our people were memorizing the propositions, but not fully
understanding the government system, because it’s very hard... very
hard.
Also some working class leaders relate residents’ lack of knowledge of the System to
their lack of knowledge of their rights as citizens. They argue that the government is
to blame for this, because officials do not inform residents in this area about their
rights, as detailed in Chapter Four and Seven. Yet they relate this problem not
necessarily to class issues but to institutional discrimination and the neglect of
people of color. Their explanations refer to racism as experienced through spatial
relations. This kind of racism is not necessarily experienced through these women’s
177
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
own experiences, but “rather through a spatially and socially defined community”
(Pulido 1997: 21).
The leaders approach to these characteristics and issues of their community
as part of a broader power base and institutionalized set of relations. The ways they
internalize these characteristics become apparent in the ways they make strategic
choices as leaders in the community. Being aware of range of ways in which the
System neglects local residents, these leaders emphasize their role in “bringing both
sides [i.e., the community and the System] together.” Yet this happens mostly by
their “pushing” the community to learn about the System. This effort shows itself in
leaders’ comments about how “we need to educate community about how the
System works.” The leaders have a couple of strategies that incorporate this
“education” piece into their leadership roles, detailed as followed.
How to Run Meetings
One of these strategies is apparent in the way leaders run their NA meetings.
Most working class leaders have a process-oriented style of running meetings. As
detailed in Chapter Seven, meetings of working class NAs usually involve the
following activities: members ask questions of senior lead police officers, they share
problems that they are facing, and they barely touch on any solutions. Most working
class leaders say that this is how they want their NA meetings to run. During the
meetings, leaders encourage members to talk, listen to each other, and share their
experiences of problems and solutions. They have a list of issues to address before
the meeting begins, but they are also willing to go with the flow if people want to
talk about different issues.
Gentrifier-leaders, in contrast to working class leaders’ process-oriented
style, are mostly task-oriented in their meetings. Strictly following the list of
178
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
issues that they prepare in advance, these leaders emphasize developing an action
plan for current issues by the end of each meeting. One of the common slogans
used with members is “if you are coming to the meeting to complain about a
problem, bring also a solution for that problem.” Rita is one of these leaders.
Talking about one of the NA meetings she attended just after she moved in the area,
Rita notes:
It was ridiculous; everybody was talking, complaining for half-an-
hour. Then another one was starting to complain about another
problem on their street... Just complaining! I said, “What are we
doing? Why are we wasting our time if we are not going to do
(anything) about these?”
Later she suggested that the NA have an administrative structure with a president, a
secretary, and a treasurer.
They didn’t want to do that... because they didn’t want to give their
time. Theyjust wanted to come, complain, and go! Later they said
“okay, if you’ll be the president.”
She was the elected president for the following 14 years. Gary became the vice
president in last 5 years. He describes his perspective on Rita’s leadership:
I think the best thing she got everybody doing is that if you raise your
hand and say “I think we should do something,” that she’s going to
say, “Well, that’s a great idea. Why don’t you look into that?” Now
people know; they make a suggestion, they are gonna be asked to do
it. Because we can’t do everything; Rita and I can’t do everything.
These two styles of running meetings relate to some degree to the available internal
resources of the associations. Yet leaders’ perceptions of these resources and their
identification with race, ethnicity, and class experiences in urban space also
influence the way they run their meetings. These are conscious choices. Maria* for
instance, is very conscious of her style. In her meetings, she encourages everyone to
talk about the issues they have. She is aware of how meetings of NAs with
179
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
gentrifiers run and she calls these NAs “professional associations.” She
acknowledges that these “professional” NAs are very efficient, especially in working
within the System. However, she does not want to have a very structured association
since that will “intimidate people” and discourage them from participation. She
explains:
I don’t want the same structural way that Heritage Association (is)
doing: very organized, like a big corporation. This (her community
organization) does not operate like this. (Because) one is, I don’t
have the time, I don’t have the money. I’m non-profit. They are non
profit, they have grants. I do not. Another thing is... it’s too
sophisticated to go all the way up. And people started to know, to
feel comfortable (with how I work). To drag them all the way there,
they’re gonna chill away and they’re gonna go away. So 1 want them
feel comfortable. . . . It’s about telling you’re okay and giving them
confidence, it’s mostly.
In her reasoning for choosing this style of running meetings, she emphasizes the
resources available to her association, and her identification with social relations in
which her community members are embedded. She also points out the tensions
between the style that her community feels comfortable with and the style that the
System requires in order to be heard.
Being and Training “Liaisons” between the Community and the System
Another strategy of these leaders is training community leaders, or “liaisons.”
All leaders identify their leadership roles as a “liaison,” or a communication link,
between NA members and sources outside of the NA—especially those within the
System. This role requires them to be actively in touch with or ‘bridge’ both sides—
that is, the community and the System—of the transitional sphere of community
180
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
work6 3 . This act of bridging by most leaders is not much different than trying to
speak simultaneously to two groups who do not speak the same language. Yet, and
as already mentioned, these leaders suggest that not only do the community and the
System speak different languages, one language is more highly valued than the other.
The community and its organized groups of residents are disadvantaged by the
System in different ways and to varying degrees. Leaders of NAs made up mostly of
working class people of color are more disadvantaged than the leaders of gentrifier-
NAs for reasons stated earlier, as well as in the following sections.
One of the most important responsibilities of leaders in their roles as a liaison
is to access to “the information out there” that might affect the external resources of
their associations. That is part of their mission to “educate the community,” that is,
the NA members, about the System. For some, providing information also involves
keeping public agencies informed about the issues facing the local community.
However, gentrified leaders are more likely than working class leaders to emphasize
“educating” public officials as much as they emphasize educating residents about
residential quality of life issues. To some degree, this might suggest that these
leaders have better capacity of speaking languages of the System than the working
class leaders in the area. Betty, a gentrifier-leader, explains what it takes to make
the System respond:
What am I observing here? It is taking a lot of pushing, pushing and
pushing with the City Hall to get things done in this neighborhood.
They are finally taking notes and doing stuff and realizing that this is
63 At one point during my fieldwork, I thought o f this role definition as similar to feminist consciousness
as described by the metaphor o f “bridging frontiers/ borderlands” with the “mestiza consciousness” (Anzaldua
1990). The “mestiza consciousness” is a plural consciousness with an understanding o f multiple and oppositional
ideas and knowledge. According to this metaphor, only with a flexibility and divergence in their thinking o f
ideas and cultures, for instance, can these leaders be “on both shores at once” (Anzaldua 1990:378). However,
after further interviews and conversations, today I am convinced that practicing this kind o f consciousness as a
community leader is not easy, if not impossible.
181
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
a neighborhood culturally very mixed, very well located with
downtown and everything else.
Regardless of their differing components, bridging the community and the System
requires an active search for ways to access information and communicate with the
System. Also, because this kind of bridging is necessary for NAs’ development and
for general community building, all these leaders see its maintenance and
strengthening as a must. Thus, all leaders focus on encouraging and training
members to be leaders within their community. However, this process often takes
longer than expected. Along with tapping individuals’ available resources for
becoming leaders, this grassroots educational process must address the various
“language barriers” that divide different social groups and the System. Frank is at a
NA with gentrifiers. He talks about his assistance to a local Latino group in forming
their own organization:
(In meetings with officials) Latino people usually wait for their
opinion to be asked about, instead of standing up and stating their
mind. Many people don’t have those communication skills. If they
go (to meetings), they’re shy; they don’t know what to say. Some
other people are much more dynamic; they get intimidated. Or they
get just lazy and say “you know what he said about that; I don’t need
to worry about it.”
As suggested, an awareness of community characteristics informs leaders’ strategies
for encouraging residents to become leaders. A few of these leaders are among
gentrifiers. Frank describes his strategy with respect to his leadership role in the
community:
That’s part of the... always the balance as an activist you’re always
trying to deal with... How much can you participate? Make sure you
don’t get so far of the community; yet (also) you don’t (do) all the
work and everyone else is just counting on you to get tilings done.
You always have to back up, slow down, look around. You spend a
lot of time informing people what the issues are. As an activist, you
care about this; “how are you contribute to that?” That’s the hardest part.
182
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
This issue of balance is common among leaders. Yet all leaders of working class
NAs approach the idea of educating potential leaders from a slightly different angle.
As stated above, with their strategies for running meetings and not “pushing (the
members) into a structured meeting,” working class women of color encourage
residents simply to participate in meetings. These leaders enable participants
primarily to have social time and space during the meetings. They aim to make
participants feel comfortable about talking their problems—even those related to the
System. Like the gentrifier-leaders, they talk about what residents’ responsibilities
are in taking care of their neighborhood. However, their main emphasis in educating
members is mostly on communicating what their rights as citizen are. Restating that
people’s lack of knowledge of the System is also a failure of the System, they say
that as leaders they try especially to give members the confidence to practice these
rights.
Working within the System
Through her improvisational public speaking skills, Maria is able to motivate
and engage the large crowds who attend campaigns or meetings of city-wide
community organizations. Yet she does not feel as comfortable writing letters to
officials. “In those letters” she says, “you have to use some nice words to the
officials, but I am not good at.” For years her daughter, who is an elementary school
teacher, was helping her with those letters. Very recently she recruited a
student/homeowner, and suggested he become the secretary for their NA. She was
hoping that this secretary could prepare flyers for meetings and send “effective”
letters and petitions to the “politicians,” that is, to city hall, the police department,
and their council office. This new secretary was actively involved in his position for
a couple of months. Later he started to show up to meetings less often. Since
183
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Maria knows that any interruption of the routine of meetings might risk members’
participation, she took over the secretary’s responsibilities, despite her limited skills
for working within the System.
Not all leaders of working class NAs feel these problems. The main reason
for this is that some of them engage with only one representative of the System, who
is usually the senior lead police officer assigned to their area. Sometimes, either by
their own initiative or in response to leaders’ requests, activist pastors in the area too
invite staff from the city attorney’s office or their council office to community
meetings. The meetings of other community organizations in which leaders are
involved also play a role in linking these NA leaders to various representatives of the
System. In sum, most of these working class leaders minimize any communication
problems with the System by minimizing the number and variety of their contacts
with the System.
Only one working class NA leader, Nancy, claims not to have any problems
communicating with the System and is actively involved with various public and
private agencies. She acknowledges that decision makers within the System do not
inform their community about plans and projects related to their area. Yet in dealing
with this and similar problems, the communication skills that she has developed as a
legal secretary provide her with relatively efficient ways to “speak” the bureaucratic
language of the System.
Bureaucratic languages are part of the rational decision making processes that
are employed by the System and other institutions based on technical rationality.
Planning discourse is one of these institutions. Decision making using such language
is based on “a complex set of rules for keeping written records of scientific
procedures which forces both bureaucrats and residents into a very narrow standard
184
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
of communication” (Harwood 2000:31). It creates red tape, monopolizes
information, and maintains the status quo of the System. Here the state has the
power of regulating most of the rules and incentives, including the resources
distributed in urban spaces, and thus, the work contexts of NA members. Thus, this
“narrow standard” or lack of communication primarily harms those residents who are
not capable of dealing with these rules and standards. Individuals might learn these
rules and standards through formal education opportunities that are regulated by the
System.
Betty is a gentrifier-leader who got such an education. A recent divorcee
with no children, she is a legal secretary like Nancy. Working with five lawyers in
her office, Betty says that she knows how to talk to “legal” people and different
stakeholders. Writing petitions and official letters and making phone calls to various
city offices are part of her everyday work skills. Also by inviting some key staff
members from these offices to her NA’s barbecues and dinners at her home, she
extends these official relationships into more informal settings. On some of such
occasions, she had city planners from the Department of Building and Safety and
staff from the council office in attendance—some of the key figures in getting
approval for the historic preservation boundaries in their area. Still, it takes years
and “lots of pushing,” she says “to get things done here and in this city.”
One might argue that bureaucratic languages, as part of technical rationality
and scientific processes, might be difficult for beginners but “objective” to all once
learned. Yet my findings suggest that this “objectivism” is not color-blind or
gender-blind, as evidenced by the example of Tim and other people of color.
Talking about his experiences as a former NA president, Tim acknowledges the
personal relationships that he developed with some of the staff at his council office.
185
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Years later, Betty and her ex-husband moved onto his block. Betty became the
president of their NA. Betty’s British accent has not changed much during her
thirty-years in United States. Tim, who is an African American man, appreciates her
leadership skills. Yet referring to calls to government offices, he cannot help but
tease her and suggest that people who hear her accent on the phone might respond to
her “differently” and possibly be more receptive than they would be to a person with
an African American accent.
Strategies to Work within the Transitional Sphere of Community Work
Most of these leaders are aware of their positions and limitations with respect
to the larger community and the System. To overcome such limitations, some
leaders develop additional strategies, such as the following. First, some gentrifier-
leaders broaden their definition of community issues beyond those related to historic
preservation to include the education of youth. This emphasis on projects to support
kids’ development, local schools, and computer learning is significant because very
few members of these NAs have young or teenaged kids. Utilizing their relatively
large membership resources, leaders approach these projects as strategies to reach
and recruit a large number of local working class people of color in their NA, or to
renew the image of their NA as a ‘gated community’64.
64 For an association, this has been a strategic move to encourage participation o f more residents,
especially Hispanic families with young kids, to attend association meetings. One association leader and her
husband ran an after school program at their home for local children for years. Another reason was to provide
additional educational opportunities to children in an area with inadequate youth services and programs. Later
they had to shut down the program because o f the worsening health conditions o f the husband. Inspired by this
adjacent association’s initiatives, another association with gentrifiers has just recently started with similar
projects. Yet according to their president, the main reason is to change the “up-there” or exclusive image o f their
association among the majority o f residents. In other words, this initiative is part o f their new outreach strategy
to the larger community and, according to some members, to change image o f their association as a “gated
community.” The addition o f new members, mostly people o f color, has been a driving force in prompting the
association’s involvement with similar programs. Yet the association’s new efforts are limited to monetary
donations to already existing programs in the area. Members in this association acknowledge this. They explain
the reasons as due to the lack o f “labor power” in their association where almost all work full-time or are “too old
to deal with kids.”
186
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Second, one working class leader, Maria, broadened her NA’s local networks
by collaborating with some gentrifiers around a local project, although briefly. The
project was to develop a community park in a vacant lot in the area. Maria initiated
this idea, and contacted her council office, the pastor at her church, a local
community organization, and the University. When each institution promised her to
give their support, she realized that she and her NA members could not manage the
scope of the project, given the number of institutions involved. Thus, she talked to
members of the adjacent NA with gentrifiers that she already knew has resources to
handle such bureaucratic processes. A gentrifier-member, Cary, joined these efforts
and became the director of the project until it was completed in four years. In sum,
in order to work comfortably with public and private institutions and manage the
bureaucratic aspects of this project, Maria strategically6 5 extended her networks. Yet
this network ended after the completion of the project.
Similar to earlier examples, the deployment of such strategies suggests that
some NA leaders make choices to improve their capacity for working with the
community and the System. Their sense of their NA’s internal resources (and their
external ones, as detailed in Chapter 7) influences their strategies for leading
community work. Some strategic choices of working class leaders, for instance,
might contradict some arguments in the literature. The literature that looks at
leadership characteristics in low-income communities suggests the existence of “a
basic contradiction in leadership needs” in such communities:
(Strong), highly visible, charismatic leaders are necessary to
dramatize issues and to rally support of large numbers of people—the
basic resource of lower income organizations. At the same time,
65 Today Maria tells that “Cary had the time and everything” for this project. By “everything,” she refers
to skills that Cary gained through her teaching job, a long history o f activism, and her memberships in a
resourceful NA and another city-wide association. Maria was aware that Cary with these skills could easily cany
this project through processes o f the System.
187
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
charismatic leaders do not generally spend their time developing
tightly administered organizations (Gittell 1980:97).
My findings in this neighborhood suggest that this “contradiction” is in some cases a
result of charismatic leaders’ choices. In order to encourage participation in their
NA, some working class leaders make such choices in working within their
community consciously, rather than arbitrarily. Meanwhile, the gentrifier-leaders
interpret this ‘less tight’ structure of die working class NAs as a lack of structure,
and thus, a lack of capacity for completing any task. They choose to maintain well-
structured organizations consciously to attain outcomes that are tangible in the
physical settings of their neighborhood.
Yet all these leaders are limited in their choices. Given their social standings
in power relations based on class, race and ethnicity, gender and other differences,
women leaders have differential access to resources that might enhance their
leadership performance. They differ in their capacities for working within the
System. Leaders who are working class women of color tend to be more constrained
in working with the System than gentrifier-leaders. Having developed skills through
their formal education and managerial or professional jobs, the gentrified leaders
have relatively better experiences of working with the System. Working class
leaders either holding jobs in service sector or as homemakers are limited in terms of
the kind of communication skills that are required to work with the System. This
leads most of these leaders to have limited contact with representatives of the
System.
These findings suggest that professional and managerial jobs, more so than
service occupations, provide leaders with better communication skills for dealing
with bureaucratic institutions. Such technical skills enable leaders to adapt to
bureaucratic languages favored by the System. Also, some might consider
188
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
community leaders with these skills to be “professional” in working with the System.
Yet acquiring such a “professional” style in my study area relates to class, race and
ethnicity, immigration background, and other social differences among these leaders.
Leaders with professional and managerial careers in this area are mostly middle class
white women, whereas only one of them is a woman of color.
One might suggest that this association between the kind of jobs that leaders
hold and the job holders’ race and ethnicity might be a coincidence in this locale. I
argue that this might not be just a phenomenon specific to my study area. As also
suggested in discussing membership-based resources, these differences in being
“professional” are structurally constructed in relation to leaders’ and members’
social standings in class, ethnicity, race, and gender relations. Especially in the
United States after the 1950s, the shift from a manufacturing to a service-based
economy has resulted in the concentration of women in the labor force in service-
sector occupations. This is true for both white women and women of color, but more
so for the latter66. In conjunction with economic restructuring, a noticeable
racialization of occupations has occurred (Glenn 1985; Peake 1995; Ong and
Blumenberg 1996; Pincus and Ehrlich et al 1999). Also detailed in the following
chapters, broader practices such as economic and welfare restructuring, racialization
of occupations, urban policies, institutional and social networks, and the conscious
choices of leaders within the limitations of their individual contexts mediate and
differentiate leaders’ capacities and styles.
66 O f course, the degree to which particular occupations are racialized will vary between local economies
depending on the extent to which subordinate “racial” groups are present in large enough numbers to fill a
substantial portion o f the jobs (Glenn 1985).
189
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 7
NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATIONS’ EXTERNAL RESOURCES:
The State and the Voluntary Sector
NAs’ resources mediate their access to decision making about issues of
concern to them. As discussed in Chapter Six, this access is not equal. NAs have
differential access to resources that facilitate their political activity. What is
economically and politically possible for NAs is the result of the complex
combination of economic, political, and cultural characteristics of their urban
context. In Chapter Six, I discussed NAs’ internal resources in terms of the
contributions of members and leaders, and as part of their context.
In this chapter, I examine available external resources to NAs in my study
area. In my definition of external resources, I include financial resources, access to
information, expertise, knowledge, and sociopolitical support. I identify the state
and the voluntary sector as the origins of these resources. In Chapter Six, I described
how members’ socio-economic characteristics and social relations mediate NAs’
access to resources available through the state and voluntary sector. This chapter
examines how the state and voluntary sector mediate this access for each group of
NAs. The NAs with gentrifiers and NAs with working class people of color are still
subjects of this chapter.
So far I have mentioned a few encounters among members of these two
groups. Prior to the emergence of some adjacent NAs, members of both groups
worked together more often than they do today. In the late 1970s, Tim—an African
American and, at the time, a janitor—started organizing a block club on his street.
He got in touch with his councilman’s office to work on problems like litter. He
invited residents of nearby blocks to a community meeting. At the meeting, they
190
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
divided their neighborhood into six sub-areas and assigned a neighborhood watch
group to each. Tim became the leader for his block. Judith became the leader for
hers. In addition, a monthly umbrella group, called Unity Place, was formed from
two representatives from each group.
After the Unity Place dissolved, Judith and Tim kept up their respective block
organization. Both blocks had people who moved out of the neighborhood, as well
as newcomers. Judith’s newcomers were mostly renters. In contrast, Tim’s block—
with its Victorian single family homes—experienced an influx of first-time middle
class homebuyers. With these new members, Tim’s block club started emphasizing
historic preservation as a main agenda item and became a non-profit association. In
the late 1980s, when interest in historic preservation was rising in Los Angeles,
Tim’s NA easily developed networks with other historic preservation organizations
across the city. They changed the zoning rules in their area to reflect a lower
residential density. They got their homes and then the whole block and surrounding
area registered as historically significant at the local and national level. As NA
members living in this historic preservation area, some got seats on the citizen
advisory board for this preservation area, the Historic Preservation Overlay Zone.
As board members, they participate and monitor decision-making related to building
and construction permits within the area.
To the south of Tim’s NA, Judith kept trying to organize her block club
around issues of safety and street cleaning. After the dissolution of Unity Place, she
was still in touch with Tim and the leaders of other NAs. She joined in the
Community Coalition, a Los Angeles-based group organized around issues of
economic and community development. Also, a local pastor initiated monthly
meetings with working class NAs near his church, including Judith’s NA. Yet in the
191
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
last two years, due to members moving out, Judith’s NA dissolved. Now she
belongs to a nearby NA and still tries to revive a group for her block. Organizing her
neighbors is a difficult task for her. She cannot communicate with them because
they are newcomers and non-English speakers with a “different way of living,”
according to Judith.
Tim’s and Judith’s associations are only two blocks away from each other but
have different and uneven external resources. Differences in the development of
these two associations might suggest that re-defining NA’s issues might improve
their access to decision-making regarding land use, zoning and other urban
development issues in their area. To some degree, this might be true. Yet in the case
of Tim’s NA, this improvement did not happen by a simple move of an agenda
change. This agenda change created new external resources for Tim’s NA only
along with historical and marketable characteristics of houses in his block, new
members with relatively better resources for activism, and their city-wide networks
with other organizations concerned about historic preservation. These resources
improved NA members’ ability to work within their organizational and institutional
contexts.
The literature describes external resources for organizations as being shaped
by their institutional environments. Some urban political economists root the
success of locally based residential efforts in relationships among the city’s economy
and government and national policies (Molenkopf 1983; Fainstein and Fainstein
1986; Rabrenovic 1996). Also each city has distinct institutional resources,
organizational networks and socio-political cultures with their own rules and beliefs
(Rabrenovic 1996). To succeed and compete for resources within their institutional
environments, local organizations need to understand and adapt to the requirements
192
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
and expectations of other groups and institutions with which they work (Meyer and
Rowan 1977).
Yet by talking about the urban context mostly at the city level, comparisons
of NAs in this literature are limited to those in different cities or different parts of
any given city. In addition, the literature typically examines residential areas (or
neighborhoods, as they are commonly called) as the places where residents act as
one group against the “threats” that usually come from “outsiders.” This might be
true on some occasions. Yet the daily experiences of NA members in my study area
suggest that this is not always the case. They suggest the presence of local
communities that are far from unified and describe residential areas that are made up
of groups with uneven resources and different perceptions of place and community.
Few studies look at differences among groups of residents in the same neighborhood
(Abu-Lughod 1994; Mele 2000), but those that do focus mostly on neighborhood
discourses and issues with less emphasis on external resources6 7 .
In this chapter, I examine differences in external resources of NAs in the
same residential area. I explain these differences with respect to available state-
based resources for NAs and to NAs’ organizational networks within the voluntary
sector. Part One details how laws and regulations as state-based resources provide
legitimate and resourceful tools for historic preservation issues. Issues of street
safety, maintenance, and other municipal housekeeping tasks depend mostly on
residents to keep social control in their neighborhood. Along with members’
differing social standings in power relations, as discussed in Chapter Six, gaining
access to state-based resources is a challenge for working class NAs. Part Two
67 Also, few studies on the role o f tenants in community organizing talk about diverse interests in
neighborhoods. Heskin (1991) discusses the divergent effects o f variable housing tenure, and Davis (1991)
emphasizes the significance o f tenure in mobilization.
193
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
examines the organizational networks of the NAs in my study area. Two sets of
networks or coalitions appear to be important for these NAs. Each emerged in
response to urban development projects and issues in my study area and downtown.
Also, each group of NAs works solely with a set of networks. NAs with gentrifiers
are part of the coalition of historic preservation organizations located in a specific
urban area, namely West Adams District. Working class NAs work mostly with
local members of the other coalitions that focus on the economic and community
development of downtown, South Central LA, and LA in general. The historic
preservation coalition focuses on a relatively smaller urban area, and provides a
resource-rich context for NAs with gentrifiers. Yet members of working class NAs’
networks trivialize NAs’ place-based issues either because of their ideology or
limited organizational resources. These networks’ exclusive focus on economic
development at the city or even regional level makes them unable to approach NAs’
issues because they are deemed “too local” and secondary to their main goals. This
leaves these NAs with limited resources.
PART 1. STATE-BASED RESOURCES AVAILABLE TO NAs
Members’ initial motivations for forming an organized neighborhood group
are not enough to sustain a NA. To survive and perform well, grassroots groups, like
any other organization, need to compete for resources and develop capacities within
their politically loaded contexts. The state is an important source for external
resources. As stated in Chapter One, in recent decades, changing voluntary sector
and state relations emphasize the importance of the state for all kinds of grassroots
organizations. With its regulatory and policing power and systems, the state impacts
NAs’ development at any stage. State-based regulatory systems have rules and
incentives that influence the political and economic contexts of NAs. Ultimately,
194
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
these systems mediate opportunities for and constraints to the development of NAs’
capacities.
In my fieldwork, rather than any specific opportunity or constraint, NAs—
especially working class NAs—report that overall access to state-based resources is
the main challenge. This part of the chapter describes these challenges along with
two aspects of NAs. These are the kinds of issues that NAs focus on, and the social
standings of NA members in power relations. Specifically, I detail whether and how
state-based initiatives—in the form of laws and regulations—respond directly to
NAs’ issues and members’ social standings, and thus, mediate NAs’ access to state-
based resources. My findings suggest that working class NAs try to figure out how
to gain access to state-based resources while they face the lack of state-based tools to
address their issues. NAs with gentrifiers already have access to these resources,
especially through existing laws and regulations on issues of historic preservation.
The Question of How “the System” Works
Maria, a first generation immigrant from El Salvador, has been a local
community activist for more than 20 years. In her early years, she had difficulties in
understanding and being involved in meetings at her council district’s office. She
realized that not only she but also other community members were not familiar with
the bureaucratic procedures and languages of that office in particular, or with most
laws and regulations in general. She explains:
We didn’t know how the process is or anything. . . . People were
learning- memorizing things but not fully understanding the
government system, because it’s very hard.
Through her involvement in other organizations and from her long years of local
activism, today she is relatively better at dealing with the bureaucracy of
governmental systems, or “the System.” However, her NA members and a
195
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
majority of residents in my study area face similar difficulties everyday. Most
working class interviewees and many community meetings address the concern that
working class people of color do not know “how the System works”—although they
“try hard to figure it out.” Also, they point out that the “preservation associations” in
their area (that is, NAs with gentrifiers) are relatively comfortable in working within
the System. I already detailed similar points in my discussion of the internal
resources of NAs in Chapter Six.
By “the System,” they refer to the state’s regulatory and policing systems.
Understanding and working within the System enhances NAs’ chances of achieving
their goals. State-based laws and regulations aim to govern the relations among
individuals and organizations. Thus, they influence power relations and the
distribution of resources among individuals, social groups, and all organized entities.
They also set rules and incentives for providers, including the state itself, for the
provision of urban services that impact the quality of residential life. Due to these
factors, NAs both at the membership and organizational levels are and have to be
constantly in touch with the state-apparatus at various scales. In their daily
community work, NA members confront the state more acutely whenever they either
call the department of building and safety or the police, or send a petition to their
council office to close an alley, or apply for a grant to build a park in the area. I said
“more acutely” since their roles and responsibilities at work, at home, or in public
spaces already put individuals in touch with the state’s regulatory and policing
powers on daily basis.
In working with the state-apparatus, NA members should have some level of
knowledge of how this apparatus works, with regard to their issues. In other words,
they should know how the System works. “Knowing the System” might relate to
196
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
individuals’ knowledge-based resources derived from their education, networks, or
early experiences with the System. As Chapter Six described, NAs with gentrifiers
have better internal resources than working class NAs in the same area do, based on
their members’ socio-economic characteristics. The non-profit status of NAs reflects
this as well. NAs with gentrifiers have non-profit status whereas only one working
class NAs in my area has that status. Pointing out the difficulty with paperwork,
some leaders of working class NAs said that “it’s too complicated to go through that
process” of applying for non-profit status.
In Chapter Six, I explained the complexity of such bureaucratic processes for
members of working class NAs with limited individual resources. Acknowledging
NAs’ internal resources, this section examines such complexities from another point
of view. It argues that System-based initiatives that provide the conditions for
individuals and organizations to know and work within the System are very
important. Such initiatives also mediate NAs’ access to a pool of external resources.
Specifically, the presence and strength of laws and regulations related to NAs’ issues
influence the competition for resources. Yet my study findings suggest that System-
based initiatives provide comparatively better working conditions for NAs that focus
on preservation issues than for NAs that are focused primarily on neighborhood
maintenance, or ‘municipal housekeeping’ tasks.
Working Class NAs and How to Figure Out How the System Works
Being aware that legal procedures and governmental works are complex for
their community members, leaders of working class NAs have a couple of strategies
to deal with this constraint. Since I detail most of them in Chapter Six, here I point
out only one strategy. They invite a staff representative from local government or
their council district office or other parts of the System to their community
197
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
meetings. Inviting the government worker allows members to ask questions of the
expert and to share their problems related to the System.
Prominent figures within the System, and regular attendees of the meetings of
both groups of NAs, are senior lead police officers. According to the community
policing program in the City of Los Angeles, these officers are responsible for
different parts of this geographic area6 8 . During the early stages of my fieldwork in
the year of 2000, the Parks administration withdrew senior lead officers from their
roles in this program. This caused frustration among leaders of working class NAs
and some local church leaders. As detailed below, the reason for this frustration was
that these officers are an important resource, especially for improving residents’
knowledge of how governmental and police systems operate6 9 .
The ways police officers are involved in NAs’ meetings differs between the
two groups of NAs. At meetings with gentrifiers, they leave after giving a 10-minute
report about recent local safety incidents. Yet they stay for the entire meeting of
working class NAs. This reflects the preference of NA leaders and members rather
than the police officers themselves. The reason for this preference is so that working
class NA members can get all of their questions answered by the officers. After
giving a report about local safety in the first 15 minutes of the working class NA
meetings, the officers stay and answer questions that are often unrelated to the report
or any recent public safety issues. If NA members want, for instance, to close an
alley, officers will explain the process, telling them how to gather signatures from
property owners for a petition and to send it to their councilman’s office. Or they
will inform members that the mayor’s office has a certain task force that might help
68 Including the USC campus, four senior lead police officers are active in four adjacent sections o f this
area.
69 Under the new administration, senior lead police officers have returned to community policing.
198
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the residents. Or they find a phone number for a specific department at city hall that
might help residents with certain tasks in their community work. Besides guiding
them through the bureaucracies at city hall, the officers also explain how the police
work in general. Sometimes even residents who are not regular NA members or
those living nearby attend these meetings simply to ask questions of the officers.
Responding various questions, these officers acknowledge that “the
community is not well informed about how the system (in this case, police and the
law) works.” This lack of information about the System, they suggest, results in
misperceptions of “the System-related problems” as due to the irresponsible actions
of individual police officers. Addressing members of a working class NA, Officer
Robin, explains:
Police cannot do anything beyond the law. If, for instance, that guy
bothers her, we can’t just go and arrest him without her testimony.
They believe that explaining the basic features of the System might improve
residents’ familiarity with and, to some degree, capacity for working with laws and
regulations. This in turn might also improve the officers’ effectiveness, they believe.
Does the System Work for “the Community Issues”?
The main concerns of most working class NAs in my study area are related to
crime and safety issues, the cleaning local streets, and the “beautification” of their
neighborhood. Besides demanding public services, such as policing and trash pick
ups, they try to mobilize—or as they say, “educate”—residents around these issues.
However, in legitimizing reasons for “educating” or encouraging local residents to
follow certain standards for neighborhood maintenance, they lack any state-based
199
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
rules or regulations. They need to encourage residents, including any ‘violators,’ to
follow their community standards by their own tools.
“Informally educating violators ”
The office of the 8th Council District organized a Community Standards
Council Meeting on June 8,2002. Like the offices of two other council districts (CD
1, and CD 9) in this area, this office publishes informational booklets and organizes
meetings for block club leaders to teach about “the community standards.” These
written standards prohibit littering, public “eye sores”—such as clotheslines in the
front yard or certain landscaping—, and failing to keep properties well maintained.
Phone numbers that residents can call for pick-ups of various types of trash, or for
reporting any illegal activity, including illegal dumping, are part of the booklet.
At the June 2002 meeting, the staff of the council office emphasized the
importance of having community standards—especially for “getting rid off the
stigma of South Central Los Angeles.” They distributed the Block Club Kits—the
packages with sample letters inviting new neighbors to join local NAs, with a list of
community standards and phone numbers—to block club leaders. A woman
participant asked how to encourage their neighbors to follow these standards. “I
don’t want to pick on anybody,” she said, by telling neighbors that they are
“violating a code.” She adds:
Also my new neighbors speak only Spanish. There are lots of turn
outs in my neighborhood. It would be nice to send a notice from the
City to these people, especially in Spanish, about the standards. So we
200
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
can say to them, “Look, this is not my personal opinion. This is the
law.”
Appearing to be well versed in the answer to this question, a staff member said that
achieving these standards depends on the “willingness of the community to follow
and own them.” She explains:
Because legally not all of them are enforced by the law. In case of
violations of some standards, there is no way to push the violators to
follow these standards.
Some members of the audience, most likely newcomers to the meetings or to
this news, seemed puzzled. Another woman who was active earlier in the
meeting, and who was distributing Block Club Kits to the leaders, stopped
what she was doing to ask the following question:
If these are not against the law, how do we force (neighbors) to follow
these standards, and if they say “it’s my culture,” for instance, “to
raise com in my front yard”?
The staff member replied: “We should educate them.” Not only this member, but
also some veteran block club leaders repeatedly used this answer as a buzzword or
remedy for most problems they face with their neighbors. In their explanations, they
note how this kind of education requires the “kindness and patience” of NA leaders
and concerned neighbors as well as a gentle touch with violators. For example, one
block club leader offers the following advice:
If the neighbors violate any community standard codes, you must be
nice. You should still approach those violators in a manner without
making upset your neighbors, (that is,) those violators. Think (of)
yourself in their case; someone is telling you what you can and can’t
do.
Rather than regulations enforced and monitored by the System, the kinds of work
that these local activists do depends on strong individual commitment to community
standards. This commitment also requires skills to “educate” or persuade
201
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
neighbors to follow these standards while avoiding any individual confrontations.
Especially in rapidly changing urban areas, concerned residents should repeat these
informal contacts and adapt their styles in order to be able to respond to the changing
social and cultural characteristics of the neighborhood.
The following month, Jenny got one of the booklets on community standards
from the president of their working class NA. She was not happy about the content.
Jenny explains:
(This booklet is) a little thing about do’s and dont’s. . . . It was just
regular stuff about codes about “trash cans out there” . . . It didn’t say
anything about, “okay, here is the other block club captains; this is the
area they take care of, you know, joint meetings, items to be
discussed.” I mean that was a junk package. Because- I’m a block
club captain; give me something to work with. . . . Our block captain
knows some of the other block clubs in the area because she has been
in this neighborhood (longer than me). But she’s kept telling me I’m
the next block club president.
Working Within the System: Activism around Historic Preservation Issues
NAs with gentrifiers also deal with safety and crime issues and try to promote
their sense of community standards. Yet their sense of community standards also
includes a concern about local historic preservation. More importantly, as they
“educate” or encourage not only residents but also public and private institutions,
they have legitimate tools that are supported by state laws and regulations.
Local Advisory Citizen Boards for the “Beginners”
Most members in NAs with gentrifiers are college graduates and more or less
knowledgeable about how local government works. Yet still, in the early stages of
their involvement with NAs, they needed to develop their community organizing
skills and practical knowledge of governmental bureaucracy. Interestingly, the
Community Redevelopment Agency (CRA) provided opportunities for training
202
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
these eager grassroots activists in my study area on the Agency’s redevelopment
projects7 0 . Members of these committees were local tenants, homeowners, business
owners, and staff of community organizations. Through these advisory committees,
most gentrifier-members learned how the governmental systems work and how to
work within governmental bureaucracy. Such local representation allowed these NA
members to understand and work within various legal, bureaucratic, and inter-
organizational structures George, a preservationist and a gentrifier, explains:
CRA really gave us kinda a voice, and legitimacy as an organization
with the public collection. It began for how to build coalitions, fight
against somebody if you had to.
Their experiences on these boards trained members how to participate effectively
and legitimately in decision-making which affected their own local interests. As
they learned how they might use laws and city regulations to address historic
preservation issues, they developed effective and legitimate tools that they use today
in their own community organizing efforts.
Laws as “the Legitimate Grounds to Fight Back”
When we had this (protest against the) demolition (of a house), we
(said) “It’s a beautiful house, why are you tearing it down?” And
they- It’s an old house, that’s why we’re tearing down.” So we had to
figure out a way to combat that. And the way to deal with it is to
have the house designated (as a historic structure). So we (would) go
(and say) “I’m sorry, it’s not just a pretty old house. But (it’s) the
house where (X) is bom, therefore, it has (historical) importance.
Before you tear it down, you now have to decide if there is some other
way to do the project.” So you have a defensible position to argue
with decision makers about what they’re gonna do in your
neighborhood. Totally changes the dynamics. You’re no longer just
Jo Blow and they’re gonna do what they want. You have a voice, and
70 By law, the CRA has to have local citizen advisory committees to provide public input on CRA
projects. The committees in this area started with the Hoover Urban Redevelopment Project in 1960-85. See
Chapter Two.
203
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
that voice came through historic preservation (laws). And it can be
very effective, but there is always a contest.”
The California Environmental Quality Act of 1970 is one law that enables George,
whose quote I give above, and other local activists to have a voice on historic
preservation issues. This Act deals with environmental issues. “And part of the
environmental issues is our historic resources, because our history is as much part of
us as are air and water, and that was recognized,” says George. This Act authorizes
municipal governments to regulate zoning which permits and protects historic
preservation (see Gammage et al. 1982). This is a result of national preservation
goals established by the leadership of the federal government. The National Trust
for Historic Preservation7 1 and later the National Historic Preservation Act7 2 has
provided powerful legal mechanisms and interventionist strategies for preservationist
grassroots organizations nationwide. This federal Act established the National
Register of Historic Places and initiated extensive grant programs to aid state and
local preservation efforts. States developed partnerships7 3 with local government
while cities devised federally-funded historical and cultural surveys, created
commissions for landmarks and historic districts, and initiated preservation programs
(Pierson 1990)7 4 .
71 The National Trust for Historic Preservation was chartered in 1949 by the U.S. Congress as a
charitable, educational and nonprofit organization to encourage public participation in the preservation o f sites,
buildings and objects significant to American history and culture.
72 In 1966, to further the goals o f the National Trust for Historic Preservation, the Congress passed this
Act.
73 Subsequent amendments to the National Preservation Act o f 1966 enhanced such partnerships. These
set up the Certified Local Government Program whereby cities, towns, and counties an become eligible to receive
federal grant monies and technical assistance through State Historic Preservation Offices.
74 During the 1970s, these partnerships nurtured local preservation efforts, while urban renewal clearance
projects throughout the nation were threatening neighborhood landmarks and historic districts.
204
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
While the City of Los Angeles moved toward district preservation in 1973
with the development of community plans,7 5 the Cultural Heritage Board has been
active since 1962. Each of the community plans had to include goals for preserving
the area’s character. The city allowed for specific plans to be implemented within
the planning sub-areas in order to provide more detailed design guidelines. These
specific plans were intended to prevent intrusive development in distinct and
sometimes historic areas. In 1979, the City Council adopted an ordinance to
establish the procedure for creating Historic Preservation Overlay Zones (HPOZs),
or local historic preservation areas in the City of Los Angeles. My study area has
two out of nine HPOZs in Los Angeles. By creating local citizenry boards, the
designation of these areas provides new tools for local residents. Yet as some
interviewees who served on these boards suggest, dealing with place-based interests
through these boards creates controversies between board members and local
property holders regarding property rights, as described in Chapter Five.
To avoid such conflicts, and also to promote consciousness of historic
preservation among resident-preservationists, including most of the gentrifiers use
another tool provided by the System: tax reductions. Owners of legally recognized
historic buildings have the right to property tax reductions. Through the Acts and
other historic preservation programs, the federal government extends tax benefits and
other economic incentives to encourage the preservation of historic properties.
75 The community plans divided the city into thirty-five planning areas and together comprised the city’s
General Plan.
205
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Those who buy and preserve historically significant buildings can benefit from these
numerous preservation incentives7 6 .
In sum, the laws and regulations regarding historic preservation provide NAs
that are concerned about local historic preservation issues with various legal tools
and, thus, resources for pursuing and protecting their interests—even in the face of
the governmental institutions. Members of working class NAs, in contrast, have
difficulties in accessing such legal tools. Along with members’ low level of internal
resources and given the bureaucratic barriers originated by the System, the absence
of legal tools is the main constraint limiting these NAs’ access to state-based
resources.
PART 2. NETWORKS IN THE VOLUNTARY SECTOR AS INCUBATORS FOR
NAs
The voluntary sector, with its various institutions and organizations, is
another important part of NAs’ institutional contexts. Networking within this sector
influences NAs’ external resources. In my study area, two specific organizational
coalitions are important for these NAs. The first section of this part describes the
emergence of these two coalitions with respect to urban development projects and
issues in my study area and in downtown since the 1980s. Yet each of these two
coalitions works solely with one group of NAs in this area. The second section of
this part describes how NAs with gentrifiers collaborate exclusively with the
coalition that focuses on issues related to the historic preservation of a specific urban
76 The federal historic preservation tax credit, for instance, provides a tax break for the rehabilitation o f
income-producing historic buildings. The low-income housing tax credit offers a similar incentive for the
development o f affordable housing. To qualify, the rehabilitated property has to be a “certified historic structure,”
i.e., a building individually listed on the National Register, or located in and contributing to the historic
significance o f a National Register district. Also the rehabilitation has to be “substantial,” i.e. costing more than
$5,000, or adjusted on the basis o f the renovated property, whichever is greater. Finally, the rehabilitation has to
be certified, i.e., it must be consistent with the historic character o f the building/district (Rombouts, C. 2003.
“Historic Reuse” Urban Land. October Issue).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
district in LA. The third section describes that working class NAs collaborates with
local members—mostly local faith-based organizations—of the other coalition. It
details how this coalition focuses on economic and community development issues
on a city- and even regional level, and provides limited resources to working class
NAs.
My findings suggest that building networks with other organizations is not
the only condition for NAs’ access to these organizations’ resources. These
organizations’ goals, especially with respect to the kinds of issues and urban scales
they focus on, influence the quality of NAs’ access to a variety of resources by these
organizations. Also, limitations in their financial and staff-based resources require
all organizations to prioritize certain issues over others. This also influences these
organizations’ resources that are available to NAs qualitatively and quantitatively.
Urban Development Pressures and Opposing Grassroots Coalitions
Urban development pressures are a main factor shaping NAs’ external
resource context. They might be either a threat to or advantageous to residents’
place-based interests. They also might influence organizational and institutional
interrelations and networks at local and broader urban contexts. Such development
pressures were triggers in Nancy’s efforts to establish an association. Nancy
organized her working class neighbors twice in the last fifteen years. Thirteen years
ago, Nancy and a group of neighbors opposed the expansion of a local factory. They
won their case in court. Three years ago Nancy initiated a NA with neighbors. Their
intention was to oppose the Los Angeles Unified School District’s (LAUSD) plan to
build a school that would require the demolition of Nancy’s and her neighbors’
houses. Reacting promptly, local residents got organized and were able to negotiate
207
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
with LAUSD and provide an alternative project site. Nancy explains her reasons for
initiating an NA rather than an ad-hoc group as she did before:
I thought at that point, this was my second go-around, that unless we
will be organized in this community, unless we had an organization
that could be respected by city officials or boards like the LAUSD,
that we were going to be constantly fighting. We were constantly
reacting.
For residents of my study area, constantly reacting and being proactive are not
separate issues because this area has continuous urban development pressures.
Given this area’s proximity to downtown Los Angeles and the presence of a local
university that is also the biggest private employer in the city, these pressures are
always there. They have impacted the physical, socio-economic, and demographic
characteristics of the area since the early 1960s, as described in Chapter Three.
Nancy and her neighbors perceived these pressures as threats and initiated
their NA. For other local NAs, these pressures influence NAs’ dissolution, agenda
re-defmition, or external and internal resources. Briefly, neither NAs’ responses to
urban development pressures nor the development of their external resources are
monolithic. In this section, I describe the changing institutional and organizational
contexts of NAs as a result of diverse responses to urban development issues since
the 1980s. This context is important for NAs’ access to external resources.
University in the Neighborhood: “Love-Hate Relations with a Dragon”
An important force related to local urban development pressures in my study
area is the University of Southern California (USC). The history of USC is as old as
the history of this area, as detailed in Chapter Two. As the largest private employer
in the City of Los Angeles and with its growing staff- and student-body and need for
space for physical expansion, the University has shaped this area’s socio-economic
208
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
profile since post-World War II. Norman, a gentrifier- member, explains the
conflicting relationship between USC and the community:
I think of USC to living with a dragon. Because as I said, you’re protected
(from economic disinvestment). But you don’t have a lot of leeway, because
you do what the dragon- The dragon does what the dragon wants. It protects
you from other things, but at the same time it can bum the hell out of you.
Like Norman, all of NA members I interviewed recognize the University as both a
threat to and a resource for the development of local community. These mixed
feelings relate to the multi-faceted nature of urban development pressures in this
area. As explained in Chapter Five, the University-related developments happen
through the physical expansion of campus area and the growing number of university
students who choose to live near campus. NA members’ reactions to the University
vary mostly depending on where they live in the area with respect to projected
university development and how their place-based interests will be impacted7 7 .
Also the members’ reactions to the University’s role within the local
community relate to the ways in which development pressures impact their area. On
the one hand, the University’s history of being actively involved in local expansion
projects that moved some local residents from their homes arouse resentment, fear,
and suspicion of this institution among some NA members, as described in Chapter
Two. The recent increase in the number of USC students renting local units adds to
these feelings. As described in Chapter Five, for most NA members, student-tenants
are just “irresponsible outsiders” to the local community. They replace working
class family-tenants and do not “neighbor” with the local community. The departure
of displaced family-tenants results in the dissolution of some working class NAs.
77 For instance, some association members living in residential areas north and west o f the University
campus— the only directions in which the University can expand— think o f the USC-related developments mostly
as a threat to their quality o f life. Some others in these sections, mostly landlords, emphasize the University as an
asset for the community and urban development. Most o f the association members living outside these sections
o f the community express either positive or neutral responses to USC-related development.
209
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Also, students increase community problems with their litter, loud parties, and cars
that cause parking shortages and attract burglars to the area in search of unattended
valuables. Meanwhile, concerns with the University as an institution relate to the
University’s approach to local urban projects, which focus primarily on real estate.
Pointing out some incidents where University-owned historical buildings were
demolished, some preservationist NA members criticize the University. Along with
other interviewees, they are critical of recent University-owned projects are
exclusively for University-members and do not add to economic development of the
local community. They add that the University shifts the burden of such real estate
development to the city and neighborhood when it uses city resources and the local
community faces project-related problems such as an increasing traffic load. On the
other hand, other views suggest that USC as an urban developer adds to the
economic development of the area and community, as stated in Chapter Five. They
also point out that USC has more “community-friendly” approaches than in the past,
especially in the last decade. The University’s various community outreach
programs and grants aim to improve the local community within its outreach
boundaries. The University supports such programs not out of necessity to respond
to these mixed feelings but as part of its agenda as an urban university.
Urban Coalitions Opposed to the Wavs Urban Development Happens
Various local community organizations also recognize that the University’s
projects and grants contribute to the area. Yet representatives of some organizations
are cautious when they point out the University’s position with respect to various
kinds of urban development and community issues. Alice, the Director of Housing
210
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Services at Esperanza Housing Corporation, in referring to a University grant given
to develop a community park, describes these mixed feelings:
But I think, in tougher issues such as displacement of tenants, and the
on-going struggle on USC employees, I think, that’s where USC
would draw a line. A park is something very...safe. I mean, not
many battles or issues of that kind come up around a park for kids or a
HeadStart center for toddlers. . . . If you kind of draw a line on issues,
it’s very clear where USC stands and where Esperanza stands and
there are very little, narrow area(s) where we join forces.
Similar reactions address not only the University, but also other private and public
institutions that are redeveloping urban land in this area and in downtown Los
Angeles. Rather than merely the institutions or agencies themselves, the residents
criticize any urban development that has a primary real estate focus. Recently, such
criticisms in this area have been relatively better organized, in comparison to the
past. Local and city-wide grassroots groups and institutions have coalitions or
umbrella groups that have been in opposed to similar development projects since the
1980s.
My study area is one of the hot spots in development of such coalitions’
agendas, given its nearby location to downtown, a growing local university which is
also and the largest private employer in the city, its distinct architectural history and
affordable housing stock. With respect to NAs’ external resources, two coalitions of
grassroots groups and institutions are important to mention here. These coalitions, or
at least some of their local members, are sources of expertise and knowledge-based
211
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
resources to many NAs at different stages. These are the Figueroa Corridor
Coalition for Economic Justice, and the West Adams Heritage Association.
Figueroa Corridor Coalition for Economic Justice
The Figueroa Corridor Coalition for Economic Justice is a coalition of local
and city-wide community organizations, local churches, and labor unions. Their
main purpose is the economic development of local communities affected by projects
along Figueroa Street. As one of the main arteries connecting downtown and South
Central Los Angeles in my study area, Figueroa Street has been important since the
early 1990s, due to renewed interests in new development projects. In 1997, the
Community Redevelopment Agency developed the Figueroa Corridor Economic
Development Strategy with a vision of this boulevard as a “vital regional destination
for business, education, culture and entertainment.” Sharing this vision, a group of
business owners on Figueroa Street organized the Figueroa Corridor Partners7 8 .
Now they have a business improvement district (BID)7 9 which encompasses a 40-
block strip along this street. USC is a member of this partnership.
Opposed to “real estate focused” economic strategies of this partnership, in
1999, some other local and city-wide community organizations, local churches, and
grassroots organizing groups established the Figueroa Corridor Coalition for
78 The area covered by the Business Improvement District (BID) includes Figueroa and Flower streets and
runs from the Santa Monica Freeway to Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. It is a property-based and, thus,
funded by property owners. The Figueroa Corridor BID is governed by a board o f officers from the Shammas
Group, USC, the John Tracy Clinic, and the LA Natural History Museum. The Figueroa Corridor BID is also
linked to the Central City Association— sponsored Downtown Center BID (source: ‘Power, People, and
Possibilities’— check also their web site: http://www.figucroacorridor.org).
79 Since 1995, there have been several business improvement districts (BIDs) formed in Los Angeles as
part o f the City’s economic development program. In a BID, merchants or property owners agree to tax
themselves to fund extra sanitation services, safety patrols, marketing programs, andI or physical improvements
to the area. The City uses its taxing authorities to collect the assessments, which are mandatory for all zone
residents once the BID is approved. The City then returns the money to the business district, which decides how
the funds will be spent. BIDs have a life-time o f five years, but may reapply to the City to renew their status.
212
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Economic Justice8 0 . Some coalition members also own property8 1 . A number of
county-wide non-profits and grassroots advocacy groups are also part of the
Coalition . The Coalition develops its strategies as a grassroots reaction to the
redevelopment projects along Figueroa Street, and their impacts in the surrounding
areas. In their approach to economic development, the Coalition emphasizes jobs
offering a living wage, expanded health-care coverage, and “strategies to improve
the area without removing its current residents, enterprises, and organizations”8 3 .
West Adams Heritage Association
The other group that formed around urban development pressures in this area
is the West Adams Heritage Association (WAHA). It is a historic preservation
association targeting mainly, although not limited to, the West Adams area. A large
portion of my study area encompasses the east side of West Adams. Besides acting
as an association in and of itself, the WAHA provides a platform for NAs that focus
on historic preservation in West Adams area. In contrast to the formation of the
80 SAJE (Strategic Actions for a Just Economy) is the Coalition’s host organization and provides staffing
and other resources to the Coalition. In the governance, there is a Steering Committee with two local religious
organization representatives, two community organization representatives, one union representative, and one
USC student organization representative. See (http://www.saje.net/programs/fccej.php).
81 For example, organizations ranging from the St. John’s Episcopal Church to the affordable housing and
Mercado developments o f Esperanza Community Housing Corporation
82 The number o f members has increased since its establishment As o f May 2001, these are the
members: A regional non-profit neighborhood organization for nuisance property abatement, school
improvement and welfare rights (Community Coalition for Substance Abuse Prevention and Treatment); three
county-wide non-profit organizations with campaigns for economic justice, welfare rights, and model economic
projects (ACORN, AGENDA, and Los Angeles Alliance for a New Economy); a non-profit organization for
models o f economic democracy (SAJE); a local housing corporation (Esperanza CHC); three community
organizations (Brighton Community Watch, Neighbors for an Improved Community, and Budlong and Jefferson
Block Club); six local churches (Episcopal Church o f St. Philip the Evangelist, Faithful Service Baptist Church,
St. John’s Episcopal Church, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, United University Church, First United Methodist
Church o f Los Angeles); religious organizations (All People’s Christian Center); local clinics (St. John’s Well
Child Center, Clinica Oscar Romero,) and health programs (Coalition for Community Health); two labor unions
(Hotel Employees and Restaurant Employees Local 11, and Service Employees International Union Local 1877);
a student organization (SCALE); a youth program (Blazers Youth Services) and others (Central American
Resource Center, Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights, Coalition LA, Concerned Citizens o f South Central
Los Angeles, El Rescate, and the Environmental Defense-Environmental Justice Project Office).
83 See “A Guide to the Figueroa Conridor,” by Figueroa Corridor for Economci Justice. July 2000.
213
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Figueroa Coalition, WAHA emerged in 1983 following the initiatives of an NA that
is still active in my study area today. In the 1980s, the University’s expansion
resulted in controversies surrounding the demolition of local historic houses.
Preservationists, some of whom are gentrifiers in my study area, argued that
nonsensical development projects threatened the rich architectural heritage contained
in their residential and institutional landmarks. These oppositions resulted in the
formation of a NA in my study area in 1980 and WAHA in 1983. Since then,
WAHA developed city-wide organizational networks, including those with the LA
Conservancy8 4 and with NAs having a historic preservation focus. WAHA broadly
defines preservation issues to include the architectural structure of buildings,
neighborhood development issues, such as safety and crime, and, most importantly,
land use and zoning changes.
Coalitions of Historic Preservation in the West Adams District
NAs with gentrifiers work mainly with WAHA and other organizational
networks that focus mainly on historic preservation issues, along with other quality
of life issues, such as crime and safety. The following section details how NAs with
gentrifiers utilize these networks at various stages of their development. An
important aspect of these networks is that they put their efforts and resources
primarily towards issues in a specific urban area, the West Adams District. In
addition, they use their resources not only to solve problems but also to promote their
issues among locals and non-locals, which in turn enlarges their resource pool. Their
84 The Los Angeles Conservancy was established in early 1978 by a group o f civic activists, architects,
preservationists, and historians as a result o f the protest against the demolition o f the Los Angeles Central
Library. “Most o f its early organizers were white, university-educated, knowledgeable o f local government,
experienced in planning policies and procedures, and trained in related professions such as architecture, planning,
public relations, and law” (Pierson 1990:183). The Conservancy suggests that they are the largest membership-
based local historic preservation organization in the country.
214
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
promotional efforts focus on West Adams’ architectural history and on maintaining
this area as a distinct residential area for middle class people.
Historic Tours as Originating Resources for NAs
An important part of these promotions is the organization of annual tours of
historic homes in the West Adams District. Before moving in the area, most
gentrifier-members, like Cary, took part in one of these tours because they “were
very interested in historic houses.” On a tour in early 1990s, Cary was impressed
with the price of a house after a realtor “crunched some numbers.” She and her
husband, who were middle class 40-year-olds at the time, were amazed that they
could afford these “gorgeous historic mansions,” especially after having lived in a
“tiny rental apartment unit” for years. Their realtor and a NA president invited the
couple and other newcomers to join in their NA. Neither this nor some other local
realtors are outsiders to WAHA and neighborhood preservation associations. They
are active members. They join in these tours, meet new clients there, and introduce
them to local NA members and presidents.
In 1980, in collaboration with the Los Angeles Conservancy, a neighborhood
preservation association in this area organized the first historic tour of their
community. Together, they organized, researched, promoted, managed, and
conducted this first home tour. The purpose was to promote this neighborhood as a
place with rich historical and architectural value. Another important goal was to
overcome the image of this area as part of the racially and economically stigmatized
South Central Los Angeles (Pierson 1990). Since then, these tours happen once a
year in the area and also in the larger West Adams District.
Today the purposes are same. But they have a clear emphasis on the West
Adams District as an ideal residential area for middle-class people seeking
215
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
spacious, architecturally significant and affordable single family homes. A rich local
culture, created by the neighborhood’s architectural history and ethnic diversity, is
part of these promotions. Yet they talk about “ethnicity” mostly in reference to local
restaurants and a few stores. Also for historic preservation or marketing purposes,
they focus primarily on the racial and ethnic history of the West Adams District prior
WWII, as detailed in Chapter Four. According to some members, a couple of
realtors talked about the era prior WWII as the “golden days.” These realtors
emphasized that this area needs to be revitalized by middle-class families or singles
that are devoted to historic preservation, or just interested in a real estate investment.
WAHA, the LA Conservancy and local neighborhood preservation
associations collaborate to organize these tours. Each tour has a well-researched tour
guide and maps of local historical structures in the neighborhood. These
collaborations publicize the events in local newspapers and send invitations to key
donors and supporters, for instance, at council offices. A percentage of the entrance
fees go to participating NAs. In sum, these tours assist these NAs in fund raising,
creating positive publicity of the area and of NAs’ issues, and enlarging their
membership-base.
Organizational Platforms for Sharing Knowledge and Expertise
Parallel to a housing shortage and rising real estates values in the City of Los
Angeles, such promotions of the area have been very successful. Since the late
1970s, my study area and the West Adams District in general had an influx of
middle-class people of various races and ethnicities, although the majority of
newcomers were whites and African Americans holding professional or managerial
jobs. According to some interviewees, corresponding to fluctuations in the real
estate market, two or three waves of newcomers to the District have occurred.
216
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
These newcomers strengthen and enlarge the membership and leadership base of
NAs focusing on historic preservation.
Today in the West Adams District a large number of NAs focus on issues of
historic preservation. Around these interests, they collaborate with each other and
with WAHA. According to its president, WAHA is not an umbrella group of NAs,
but a distinct organization that provides a shared platform and “lots of manpower” to
these NAs8 5 . By ‘manpower,’ she refers to members’ resources in the form of
expertise, knowledge, socio-political networks, and financial resources. NAs utilize
WAHA’s resources, for example, to fund local projects or to obtain expert opinions
on laws related to historic preservation. Besides WAHA itself, WAHA’s
organizational collaborations create a pool of resources for these NAs. Through its
monthly published newsletters, social meetings, and nearly weekly e-newsletters,
WAHA provides these NAs with a variety platforms on which to exchange ideas
around different issues. Each NA brings its own expertise, knowledge-based-, and
socio-political resources to these platforms, and thus, to other NAs, in order to
pursue common place-based interests in the shared geography of the West Adams
District.
The presence of an adjacent local NA with such networks is certainly a major
resource for newly emerging NAs. During my fieldwork, a new NA made up mostly
of working class people of color emerged in the housing blocks adjacent to two NAs
with gentrifiers. Extending their resources, the leaders of these two NAs encouraged
this emergence. For the established leaders, the new adjacent NAs meant a more
concerned and organized set of residents who might deal with similar issues in their
85 WAHA is a non-profit organization. Its revenue comes from non-taxable donations, annual
membership fees, and revenues created by events such as historic tours. WAHA’s organizational networks extend
to other preservation organizations at the national level. WAHA’s board members have been mostly college-
educated people with professional and managerial jobs.
217
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
shared urban geography. Along with the willingness of all leaders, collaborations
among these three groups provided financial and expertise-based resources to the
newNA8 6 .
Socio-political Resources for Access to Decision-Making: Historic Preservation
Zones
Networks among neighborhood preservation associations in West Adams and
in the city provide a voting pool—a large number of voters ready to be mobilized
around issues of historic preservation in neighborhoods of the West Adams district
and city at large. The designation of local historic preservation areas and the
presence of advisory boards in Los Angeles is, I argue, the most important outcome
of these voting pools.
As of 2004, Los Angeles City had nine historic preservation areas with their
fl<7
own citizen boards . These are namely the Historic Preservation Overlay Zones
(HPOZs), as I detailed in the Part One of this chapter. My study area has two
HPOZs focused on historic preservation. Since 1979, city ordinances encourage the
designation of these zones. If approved, the designation of an area as an HPOZ
authorizes a local board to review plans for all proposed alterations, remodeling, and
86 This association got help, for instance, with paper work in order to become a non-profit association,
and to write a grant proposal for getting street surveillance cameras and later for initiating a street mural project.
These two associations also provided small grants as seed money for the projects o f this new association.
Finally, the organizational history o f these two associations is 25 years if not more. This permanency also
promises this new association a strong basis in understanding and dealing with the urban politics and dynamics
related to their neighborhood.
87 HPOZ Alliance is another collaboration created in 2000 by members o f the existing HPOZs. Their
purpose is to speak “with one voice in order to participate more effectively in the legislation and enforcement o f
the city’s HPOZ Ordinance” (WAHA Newsletter March 2002)
218
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
demolitions of local historic houses8 8 . Two boards in my study area are made up
primarily of members of NAs with gentrifiers.
To apply for the designation of an area as a local historic district, interested
citizens—not limited to local residents—must follow a set of legal requirements.
They need to conduct a detailed cultural resource survey of the area and define its
boundaries, and submit this to the City for approval. However, both the specific plan
and HPOZ enactments require intensive citizen participation. Extensive
documentation of local historical structures includes visual documentation of the
existing local historic buildings and a written history of those buildings. This
requires assistance in professional archival research and proposal writing. Also to
complete surveys, citizens need funding. In the case of the designation of an HPOZ
in my study area, two local NAs with gentrifiers pooled together their financial and
knowledge-based resources. Their collaboration with WAHA and a third
neighborhood preservation association in my study area provided additional
resources to handle this application process. This collaboration involved the sharing
of archival information about local historic buildings. WAHA also gave a loan in the
amount of $500 to an NA in order to pay a historian to write the proposal.
Following surveys and the application process for designation, lengthy public
hearings demand active support by citizens who are interested in that area becoming
a HPOZ. Weekly e-mails and other mediums by WAHA circulate news and other
public information widely and immediately among members and other interested
citizens. Encouraging all to raise their voices in these hearings these news bulletins
gather a significant number of citizens to the hearings, even though residents of the
88 Each HPOZ has a board composed o f three local members, a city staff member, and an expert on
architectural history. The board’s recommendations are then passed on to the Planning Commission and the
Cultural Heritage Commission for building permit consideration.
219
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
area most affected by the outcome of the hearings often cannot show up. Sharing a
variety of resources in order to support the common interests of historic preservation
in the West Adams District is the strength of the organizational networks with which
the NAs with gentrifiers collaborate.
Faith-based Organizations and Networks as Incubators for Working Class NAs
Working class NAs in my study area work mostly with local members of the
Figueroa Corridor Coalition for Economic Justice. These members are faith-based
organizations—either local churches or community-based organizations affiliated
with churches. In the past, most of these organizations used their resources, such as
their NAs, to support local grassroots organizing. Yet today their limited financial
and personnel resources push these organizations to prioritize certain community
issues. Usually these do not include NAs’ place-based issues. Some representatives
of organizations trivialize them as unrepresentative of local community issues, as
detailed in Chapter Three. Despite these limitations for working effectively with
NAs, these faith-based organizations nevertheless act as a “bridge” between NAs and
large-scale community organizing groups. These networks provide knowledge and
expert-based resources to NAs. Yet most large scale groups do not focus on NAs’
issues.
Community Organizing through Local Churches
During their free time, most leaders of NAs take neighborhood tours to check
out the area. In her tours, Maria either recruits new residents to her NA or
encourages them to start up their own NA. She also provides leaders of new NAs
with contact numbers for community organizations, council offices and senior police
lead officers in the area, and apprises them of the planning regulations she is aware
220
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
of. At the time in which Maria was trying to establish her NA, she did not have
assistance from any other NA. According to Maria, no NA was available. Most
representatives of local community organizations argue that NAs “come and go
(after) some members move out to better neighborhoods.” Under these
circumstances, Maria, like other working class local residents, used her social
networks, especially those at her church.
Before asking her church members’ assistance, Maria tried to get the police
to help stop break-ins in her house, shootings on her street, and insults by gang
members in her driveway. However, partially due to the fact that the number of
police officers in South Central LA was decreasing, she could not get a proper
response. She recounts this challenging time:
As I called their office, they were saying, “Why don’t you move out?” I said,
“this is my house; nowhere to go.” I said I‘m not gonna take it; I’ll find the
ways to change things. So I’ll keep talking and talking to the community. At
the beginning I started (talking) in the church. A lot of people, people know
me. (I said) “This is what (has) happened blah blah blah. I need some people.
Please if you feel like, there is a sign-up outside.”
When she migrated to the United States from her country, El Salvador, Maria already
had mixed feelings about organized religion8 9 . Not immediately upon her arrival to
the United States, but much later, she started going to church again. Since then, she
has used these weekly church gatherings mostly for connecting with other church
members and inspiring them to “empower themselves.” Maria explains:
I know that Catholics try to help (for instance,) the hunger. But it’s not about
feeding people; it’s about empowering people. It’s about do something for
yourself, and this is how we are going to change things. . . . It’s not about
praying; it’s about practicing too.
89 Especially because o f the civil war in her country: “I was very hurt to see these people and the Catholic
Church approved all the war going on (in my country) I still go to church because I feel this guilt (about not
going to church) and I suppose to go.”
221
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
For Maria, religious institutions and gatherings should be vehicles for taking action
on problems—not just for praying. Her new pastor was very encouraging of her
approach. The pastor sent her to leadership training programs of the South Central
Organizing Committee, (SCOC)—a region-wide community organizing group with
which her church was then involved. Today she points out that the pastor was a very
important figure in her training as a community activist. He also encouraged other
church members, most of whom are Hispanics and non-citizens, to apply for
citizenship and engage in political life.
Having been subject to various demographic changes, this area has multiple
temples of different faiths for different ethnic and racial groups. Today, the area has
a high number of faith-based organizations9 0 . They are either membership- or
parish-based organizations, or both. Faith-based institutions that primarily serve the
local community are important for the development of local grassroots groups
focusing on place-based issues, like NAs. Both membership- and parish-based
institutions aim to help their members with their needs and concerns. Yet
membership-based institutions do not necessarily need to be concerned about local
issues, unless they are shared by their members or if the issues threaten their
existence. Parish-based institutions might have a better chance of gathering enough
local residents together who are concerned about similar issues in the same
geography.
The parish-based churches in my study site are largely Hispanic
congregations9 1 . According to some local pastors, many local churches have lost
their congregations as their members moved out of the area. Today many of these
90 There are around fifty religious institutions in the area excluding any storefront temples (See,
www.usc.edu for details).
91 Some o f these parish-based churches also have congregations coming from outside their boundaries.
222
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
churches—especially the Black and Korean churches—have members coming from
outside this area. Ultimately, churches with a Hispanic congregation are relatively
active in organizing local communities. In her local Hispanic congregation church,
for instance, Maria was able to find enough church members who identified with her
safety concerns around her house. They understood and were concerned about these
problems because they were living in the same area. Rather than taking these
problems as Maria’s individual problems, some of them approached them as their
own problems and started talking about what to do about them. The church provided
them with an initial gathering space for these discussions that they ultimately
continued in their own homes.
According to a pastor of another local church, community activism within the
church depends on the pastor’s approach to community empowerment and activism.
This is also true for the leaders of other faith-based organizations. Some leaders
might focus on community activism as part of their mission. Ultimately, these
organizations might provide various organizational resources to their members in
getting organized around place-based issues. Others might draw a line between
activism and the kinds of services their institution needs to provide to their
community. All of these might result from institutional rather than individual
decisions or from interplays of both. Overall, organizations’ social, economic, and
political contexts shape decisions about the allocation of organizational resources.
Resources Provided bv Faith-Based Organizations
These institutions provide more than physical space to local grassroots
groups. As mentioned earlier, leaders of these institutions might be a leading force
or a supporter of local organizing. Besides charismatic and spiritual leadership, they
223
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
provide their own knowledge-based resources and institutional networks they have
acquired in their positions.
That is the case also for community development organizations affiliated
with religious institutions, mostly with churches in this area. Historically, most of
these organizations encouraged residents to form their own block clubs. These block
clubs, however, were active for a couple of years and dissolved after active members
moved out to “better” neighborhoods, or there was a decline of local concerns, for
instance, in local safety issues. The staffs of these organizations and long-time
activists point out that the “crises” or major threats are the main factors leading
working class people to get organized. Those crises, such as a shooting in a local
park, make people reorganize their daily priorities. Consequently, community
organizing around that threat becomes one of their priorities, but only for a while.
According to Saundra, the Director of the All People’s Christian Center, “If threats
are gone, if we have less crime, they think that problems are gone.”
So residents stop showing up to community meetings until they need
information or help regarding an issue or are faced with another crisis. Leaders of
faith-based organizations today feel frustrated with these short-term efforts because
they have no impact on their organizational goals. Yet these leaders are also aware
of reasons for residents’ on-and-off relationship to community organizing. They
relate these reasons to residents’ low level of individual resources (see Chapter Six)
and to social-psychological situations.
Acknowledging residents’ limited resources, most church leaders try to work
with the tools they have available to them. They focus on improving the social and
224
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
psychological health of the community, or on “empowering” their community
spiritually. Father Mike explains:
One of our main efforts is a kind of overcome that... kind of fatalism. (It is)
the sense of people that they just have to put up with things because they are
immigrants, they’re poor, because they can’t vote and they don’t have a
tradition of being in charge or being responsible.
Father Mike believes that poverty and bad experiences with government and the
police both in their home country and in United States result in fatalism among
immigrants, especially those from Mexico and Central America. This state of mind
appears as a major barrier to educating them about their rights as community
members. Also their tenuous legal status as non-citizens brings another barrier to
their community involvement: fear. Father Mike tells that “(Even) for sign-ups for
diabetes screening, people are afraid to put their names and addresses. And that’s
about immigration.”
The fear of deportation makes people stay away from any community
gathering that might require their signature or name. In addition, “there are people
who never stood up in front of a group.” Ultimately, such psychological barriers
emerge as a key issue that spiritual leaders and organizations allocate staff-based
resources to combat. In addition to their talks, these leaders encourage community
members to have “house meetings.” These are designed to get “people talking to
each other about issues and what they’re willing to do to change things.” Also,
church leaders and local community leaders try to recognize and encourage
prospective community leaders, that is, “people with leadership potentials, or people
that other people listen to.”
Most faith-based organizations are involved with city-wide and even nation
wide community organizing groups. Such networks provide them knowledge- and
expert-based resources. As stated earlier, some church leaders send potential
225
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
community leaders to the leadership training programs of these large scale
organizing groups. Local organizations share these resources mostly to inform and
update their members about the conditions affecting their community life. Saundra
explains:
What we’ll do is either to allow them (these organizations) to access
to our congregations. . . . Or we’ll distribute their flyers and their
information. If you really educate people to give that opportunity (of
getting information from other groups), and we may or may not agree
with everything that they’re doing. But we feel that I want to give the
information to the community.
According to the staff members I interviewed, the 1980s witnessed the first wave of
networking between local churches and large scale community organizing groups.
Especially the South Central Organizing Committee, (SCOC), was very actively
involved with local churches. The SCOC was affiliated with the Industrial Areas
Foundation (IAF), which is a nation-wide community organizing group .
According to Pastor Brian, in early 1980s, IAF was trying to reach out to
communities through local churches. Most of the churches with whom they
collaborated had Hispanic congregations. At that time, African American churches
had already developed their own agendas with their own issues and organizations,
like the First African Methodist Episcopal Church, (FAME), in the West Adams
area. Therefore, IAF and its regional affiliations, such as the SCOC, were successful
in developing their issues in churches with Hispanic congregations.
Maria’s Hispanic congregation was one of these active churches with the
SCOC. Her pastor sent Maria to community leadership training programs hosted by
92 According to Mary, the “IAF is a national organization, organized through . . . different states (and)
started in Chicago. In Los Angeles, there were four organizations by that time. Now LA-METRO (Strategy).
There were South Central Organizing Committee (SCOC), UNO in East LA, IVIO in Valley, and VOICE. They
were very powerful. IAF organized with all these four sister organizations. They organized through churches.
That means, they don’t go door-to-door, they go to churches, they have 500 members (in one church). When
they want to have a campaign, and they have these groups o f people to show in certain areas. They would call
churches, you have 150 (people), you’re 200, we can fill out a stadium this way. There is a lot o f power.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the SCOC. She gained a lot of knowledge about the causes of community problems
and a view of how urban politics work, and got grassroots activism skills to organize
community groups. Yet today she recalls this experience mostly with frustration.
Representatives of local churches that were then affiliated with the SCOC express
similar frustrations today. In the 1980s, these large scale groups were organizing
campaigns and large scale meetings throughout churches on issues such as
immigrant rights, economic issues, and labor rights. However, according to my
interviewees, after a while these groups seemed to be only holding meetings rather
than accomplishing any tangible goals. Father Mike describes this problem:
Big meetings with 300 people; then kind of going to sleep and then have
another big meeting, and without a focus where they were going. That’s my
understanding that (they) focused on numbers but not on goals or
accomplishments.
Maria still keeps her contacts from similar large scale organizing groups in order to
utilize their information- and knowledge-based resources. She also knows that these
large scale organizations have different issues than her own NA. She notes that
organizers of such large scale organizations perceive as trivial the local problems
that she and her neighbors consider vital. She recalls a conversation between herself
and an organizer with one of these organizations:
He told me, “Maria, it’s okay to get to know your councilman. It’s okay to
get to know your lead officer in your area.” Then they said, “But you’ll
never make changes if you’re not part of the big picture.”
She points out that the long timelines of campaigns and projects of these
organizations are not applicable to local communities since local residents want to
improve residential life sooner:
10 years.. .to succeed. People by that time, they left the area; the interests got
lost. When we see the results, it’s too late, right? I think they need to think
(both about) the big picture and the small one too.
227
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Which One to Prioritize: Basic Services or Community Organizing?
Today the question for most local faith-based organizations in my study area
is how to prioritize the allocation of their resources. This is a dilemma especially if
community needs are multiple and organizational resources are limited. For these
organizations, community organizing around place-based issues might be secondary
to their purposes of serving the community’s spiritual, social-psychological, and
social welfare needs. Thus, they might strategically allocate their resources solely
for their prime issues. This is mostly true for non-profit community organizations—
regardless of their affiliation with faith-based organizations—that work in low
income areas such as this one. Saundra explains that “We know that people (here)
are struggling. Our goal is to give them basic tools to how to be in (the) safety net to
give them that foundation of support.”
Thus, for local community organizations in my study area, social welfare
issues are of urgent concern to the majority of local residents. They approach
community empowerment with the aim of improving the economic conditions of
their local community. The economic conditions and needs of the majority of local
residents shape their priorities in allocating resources. They limit their organizing
efforts to these issues. They focus on affordable housing, job training, after school
programs, and economic development through local business initiatives. Almost all
representatives of these organizations told me that community organizing, especially
around place-based issues, is not their primary organizational goal. In their
approach, place-based issues are secondary to this type of community empowerment.
One reason for this approach relates specifically to the organization’s financial
resources, which are limited. The amount and availability of resources fundamentally
228
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
effects the allocation of resources. Jackie, the director and founder of an economic
development corporation, explains how priorities are determined:
Organizations like mine- You make decisions based upon resources and
talent for (where) your organizing would be. . . . High priority for us now is
to make jobs to the area with people and try to build business infrastructure.
Differing External Resources within the Same Geography
My findings suggest that NAs with gentrifiers have better access to and a
higher variety of external resources than those with working class people of color.
This chapter mainly focused how the state and civil society organizations mediate
NAs’ access to external resources. Three aspects seem to be important in this
mediation process. The first one relates to kind of issues that NAs focus on. NAs
focusing on historic preservation issues have both strong legitimate tools provided by
state-based laws and regulations and also resourceful organizational networks. As a
tangible issue with the potential for creating high real estate values, issues of local
historic preservation have wide and resource-rich networks of grassroots and
institutionalized efforts. Members of working class NAs have difficulties both in
getting such legal tools and in developing resourceful networks to address their NA
issues. Along with the socio-economic characteristics of these members (Chapter
Six), the System does not provide user-friendly approaches or complete sets of law
and regulations about their issues. To overcome such constraints, these NAs also
work with members of large scale organizational networks. Yet by focusing on a
variety of issues related to the economic development of low income and working
229
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
class people of color, these coalitions tend to trivialize these NAs’ place-based
issues.
The second aspect relates to the urban scale on which these organizational
networks work. Focusing on issues within a relatively manageable urban scale
enables supporters to pool their resources efficiently and effectively. This is the case
for networks organized around issues of historic preservation. Their focus area—the
West Adams District—is much smaller than South Central Los Angeles and certainly
Los Angeles, and pulls together networks of economic and community development.
The third aspect is the organizations’ own financial and staff-based resources
that are allocated to community organizing around place-based issues. Organizations
with issues of historic preservation in the West Adams District create new resources
as they promote their issues and market this architecturally rich area to middle class
home buyers. In other words, allocating any resources for community organizing
around issues of historic preservation increases their pool of resources with a
multiplier effect. Yet organizations that work with the working class NAs,
especially local faith-based organizations, have limited financial and staff-based
resources, as well as an increasing social welfare need among their low income
residents. This leaves these organizations to prioritize economic issues over NAs’
place-based and community organizing issues.
230
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
CHAPTER 8
THE DIVERSITY OF EVERYDAY NEIGHBORHOOD ACTIVISM:
Mediations of Local Citizenship within Political and Economic
Processes
Neither residents’ motivations nor their capacities for becoming actively
involved in their local neighborhood associations evolve in a political or economic
vacuum. Their social relations—for instance, as a homeowner, a parent, a neighbor
to a liquor store, a worker in a textile factory, a secretary in a law firm, or a church
member—influence both their reasons and capacities for becoming involved. Also,
the specific characteristics of their neighborhood, such as the local crime rate, the
number of local organizations, the scope of urban development projects in the area,
and recent demographic trends, might influence residents’ decisions about whether to
stay or leave in that neighborhood or to become involved in a local NA. Residents’
everyday experiences and activities in various social institutions and settings bring to
light these two sets of relations, that is, their social standings and their neighborhood
characteristics. The interplays of these relations form residents’ reasons and
capacities for citizen participation. Examples from my fieldwork, described in
previous chapters, demonstrate that various “mediating settings” appear as dynamic
grounds for the development of everyday experiences and local citizenship practices.
In this chapter, I return to my initial questions about residents’ reasons and
capacities for activism in their neighborhoods. This chapter summarizes the findings
stated in the previous chapters. It focuses on how broader economic and political
processes influence residents’ everyday practices in their daily settings, and
231
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
discusses how these mediated relations reorganize residents’ everyday knowledge
and the distribution of resources available to them by participating in local NAs.
Mediating Settings
Conventional political economic approaches to local activism explain
residents’ reasons and, to a lesser degree, their available resources, for becoming
engaged in their communities in terms of broad economic and political processes.
But they usually do not consider the interplay of social forces at the local level to be
as important in determining residents’ levels of participation. When they do consider
these processes, they typically assume that broader social, economic and political
processes unfold in homogeneous ways in local communities. From this point of
view, the consequences of economic restructuring, such as the decline of
manufacturing and the growth of the service sector, appear as the only factors
shaping individuals’ contexts and are presumed to determine a singular sense of
place among local residents. But this understanding falls short of explaining how
individuals’ unique standings in class, race, ethnic, or gender relations across
multiple social realms create different conditions for their political participation
within a particular residential area.
Similar to other studies, my study recognizes the importance of human will or
agency in shaping individuals’ decisions to participate in local associations. This
perspective does not ignore the role of structural factors but pays equal attention to
the roles of human agency and the local context for determining citizen participation.
Within this context, social identities with differing interests, local issues, reasons,
and capacities for political participation develop along with individuals’ standings
within webs of power relations across social realms. Thus, the interplay of residents’
social standings creates a set of conditions and the context for citizen
232
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
participation. Another important influence is the set of multiple meanings that their
place of residence carries as a result of its being a part of an open urban system.
Under the influences of broader forces, such as markets, the state, and civil society,
residential areas have overlapping social, political, and economic meanings for
individuals, as well as for organizations and institutions in and outside these locales.
Negotiations of these meanings among local and non-local social agencies influence
residents’ participation in NAs.
Residents make sense of these conditions in their individual and
neighborhood contexts through their everyday experiences and practices. These
experiences unfold in “mediating settings” but do so in different ways for different
individuals and social groups. “Mediating settings” are the formal and informal
“institutionalized” settings that make up locales. They include government offices,
workplaces, schools, neighborhoods, community organizations, streets, and
apartment units. People experience their daily lives in the context of these and
similar settings. These settings might have spatial contexts, or institutionalized
contexts, or both. They are “institutionalized” - that is, “they have a structure that
continues on beyond the lives of the individuals who are involved in them at any
particular time” (Lamphere 1992: 4). The spatial contexts of these settings localize
these institutionalized relations within urban space.
These settings mediate political, economic, and social interrelations and
functions primarily at two overlapping scales. First, they channel larger economic
and political forces into the daily settings that have importance for individuals’ lives.
These settings might include the workplace, where new hiring or wage policies
create new hierarchies of income distribution among employees. Or they might be a
school system, where decreasing school budgets might impact programs for
233
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
immigrant students or after school programs. Or they might be the neighborhood
streets, where there are fewer police patrols due to decreasing city revenues.
Second, these settings mediate daily interactions among individuals. Based
on their social characteristics, such as race, ethnicity, class, gender, nationality, and
immigrant status, individuals develop distinct interactions within these settings.
Also, the spatial and institutional organization of these settings impacts these
relations. This shapes, structures, and constrains social interrelations. Within these
settings, social relations evolve usually in hierarchical ways: Owners, employers, and
teachers are at the top whereas tenants, workers, and students are at the bottom of
power relations. These interactions get more complicated with the interplay of race,
ethnicity, gender, and the other social characteristics of individuals in these settings.
Reasons and Resources for Activism on Multiple Contextual Scales
How do these settings mediate the recent, broad political and economic
processes in my study area, especially with respect to the development of residents’
reasons and capacities for becoming involved in neighborhood associations (NAs)?
To answer this question, in Chapter One, I suggested a couple of ways in which these
processes impact everyday life within particular locales. These are, (i) changing
employment practices and work regimes, where the standard number of hours, work
contracts, and wages change, and number of low paying service jobs increases, (ii)
declining social rights that correspond to welfare cuts, and (iii) shifting local political
access, which still keeps problems of bureaucratic routinization and openness.
Individuals might experiences these processes within particular mediating
settings more directly than in other settings. For instance, workplaces, social service
agencies and government offices might be the primary settings for some individuals
to experience these settings. However, as this study argues, individuals’
234
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
experiences in any social realm are not isolated from their experiences in other
settings. As discussed also in feminist approaches to citizenship, individuals’
everyday relations across social realms intersect with each other. Ultimately, these
mediated relations shape individuals’ everyday knowledge, guide their local social
relations, and reorganize the distribution of physical and social resources available to
them.
Drawing from these understandings, my study findings suggest three
contextual levels that shape the varying contexts for NAs located within the same
residential area. These are the individual level, the spatial level, and the
organizational level.
Individual level
Non-standardized work routines, low paying jobs and the lack of job security
are becoming common under the influences of economic restructuring processes. In
general, these impact individuals’ resources, such as money and time, to participate
in NAs. If individuals do not have enough discretionary time for political activity,
for example, they either participate with minimal strategies, rather than with
sustained organizational involvement, or they do not participate at all in any
community-based organization. Yet recent changes in the economic sphere
influence some individuals with certain characteristics more than others. In general,
women and people of color are disproportionately employed in low paying jobs with
non-standardized work hours.
In my study area, working class NAs tend to display these characteristics.
These NAs are composed mostly of working class women of color who either work
in or are retired from the service sector, or are homemakers. In these NAs, the level
of activism—defined in terms of the hours spent on community work—is much
235
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
lower than the NAs with middle class members (that is, the NAs with gentrifiers, as I
refer to them in this study). This influences the ability of NAs to develop in various
ways. For example, it impacts their internal structures. The development of working
class NAs depends mostly on a charismatic leader, whereas the other NAs have an
extensive leadership base that works within committees. Along with the differing
work loads of leaders, this also creates differing leadership strategies for running
meetings and attaining goals. The strategies of working class leaders in my study
area focus on encouraging residents’ involvement, while middle class leaders are
trying to get tangible results.
Patterns of paid employment and work hours also impact residents’ available
time for community involvement. Flexible time creates non-regular discretionary
day time to touch base with public agencies that can address quality of life issues in
the neighborhood. While low paying jobs in the service sector create much less
discretionary time than do managerial and professional jobs, all kinds of employment
might create flexible time for activism. In my study area, after securing a permanent
service job with better wages and more standardized work hours, some working class
women of color were able to get involved in their NA. Professional jobs with non-
standardized- and non-work hours during the weekdays also provide opportunities
for involvement in NAs. For residents who hold jobs that are located in their
neighborhood and which are related to the social and physical development of the
area, this might allocate time and space within their paid-work hours for community
work. In my study area, urban development issues create such opportunities mostly
for NA members who have paid jobs as developers, realtors, landlords and managers,
or local business owners in the neighborhood. Also those who work as local teachers
236
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
or religious leaders might have both flexible time and space for community work in
the neighborhood.
Gender relations play a role in members’ ability to gain access to temporal
resources for involvement, especially those related to their family care
responsibilities and roles. Identifying their primary roles as the caretakers of their
family, most working class women of color approach these responsibilities as a
reason for and also a barrier to their involvement in NAs. Besides a lack of spousal
support for these responsibilities and for their community work, their paid job
responsibilities leave women with limited time for NAs, as described in Chapter 6.
Also, for them, family care includes not only their own children but also spouses,
mothers, and even non-blood relatives who might need daily care-giving or more
extensive medical care. Single female parents with young kids and old widowers too
are part of working class NAs. Recent welfare policies with reduced expenditures on
social services impact these groups mostly. The services and benefits for these
groups decrease, so their financial resources to involve in NAs.
In my study, middle class women tended to join NAs with their spouses.
Although most had no child care responsibilities, some of the more senior women
needed to step back from their community work in order to care for ailing spouses
while maintaining their paid employment. Also, whereas only a few men were
involved in the working class NAs, middle-class men were commonly involved in
the NAs with gentrifiers. The involvement of the latter in community work is
associated with the kinds of paid jobs they hold. They often became involved in
NAs after they lost their jobs, or because their local, paid employment as a
developer, landlord, teacher, or housekeeper provided them with the flexibility to get
involved.
237
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
The kinds of all NA members’ paid-jobs associate also with then capacity for
working with bureaucratic institutions mostly as part of state-apparatus, or as most of
NA members call it “the System.” Members of working class NAs with people of
color—especially first generation immigrants—mention the bureaucratic languages
and procedures as a barrier to gain access to any state-based resource for their
community work, as described in Chapter 6 and 7. They acknowledge their own
lack of skills to overcome such bureaucratic barriers. Thus, most of them have
contacts only with a few and usually the same representatives of the System. A few
of working class leaders try to engage with bureaucracy of the state-apparatus on
multiple ways, mostly drawing from their communication and technical skills that
they have gained through their managerial jobs or long history of activism.
Meanwhile, members of middle class NAs engage with multiple public and private
agencies. Their communication and technical skills gained through their formal
education and managerial or professional jobs allow them to work within the System.
Their acknowledgement of problems with the System mostly relates to the problems
originated by the System, such as slow procedures and lack of communication within
state-apparatus.
Spatial level
Impacts of economic and welfare state restructuring at local level is not only
on the labor market and nature of jobs. In some central cities in the US, for instance,
the gentrification of urban areas, the economic revitalization of downtowns, low-cost
housing shortages, and the displacement of low income residents and homeless
people from central cities are some other impacts of these processes. My study area
is such an inner-city area. Its close distance to Los Angeles Downtown that has
revitalization and development projects for business and housing purposes,
238
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
location of a private university—that is also the largest employer in the city—and
high density of local historic houses keep this area under urban development
pressures especially since 1980s.
Urban development projects by themselves might impact socio-spatial
characters of residential areas, and also residents’ reasons and resources for
community involvement. Only in a section of my study area, some residents got
organized to oppose such projects that were planned to develop after getting these
residents’ properties through eminent domain. Similar development pressures
influence involvement in NAs mostly through their influence on local tenure
characteristics, as detailed in Chapter 5. Since post-WWII, the area has mostly
working class and low income people of color, including transitory immigrant
populations. Besides its closeness to downtown with garment industry and service
jobs and to two main freeways, its affordable housing stock for homeowners and
renters attract mostly these people to this area. Since 1980s, the area experiences
demographic changes along with new interests and urban projects. Some influxes of
middle class people in different races or ethnicities with an interest in local historic
houses—or I call them as gentrifiers—and a transitory student population that choose
to live nearby the campus start changing both local social and spatial relations. Most
gentrifiers as homeowners of historic houses involve in grassroots organizations
related to historic preservation issues or economic development with real estate
focus. Gentrifiers’ daily practices might have some impact on local real estate
values. But my interviewees suggest that more than gentrification, “student-fication”
of the area impact local rental units and their dwellers. Nearby the campus, student-
tenants replace working class family-tenants, rent values increase above affordable
level for working class families, and some government subsidized rental houses—
239
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
with Section 8—loose this status. Replacement of their family neighbors or change
of their area into a “student-warehouse,” according to some interviewees, is a recent
issue that some NA members focus on.
Declining public provision of urban services especially related to crime and
safety issues appears as a main problem that drives most residents into local activism
through NAs. Most NA members relate this problem to the low number of police
officers in and to the neglect of their larger area—that is, South Central LA—by
public and private institutions for long years, as described in Chapter 3 and 4. They
suggest reasons for this low and declining level of public urban services in relation to
the socio-economic characteristics of majority of local residents. Mostly working
class people of color emphasize race/ ethnicity relations as driving the
institutionalized discrimination of this socially and spatially defined community.
Most middle class NA members in different race or ethnicity focus on low class
status—that is, low income and education level—of majority of local population.
They claim that this status of residents is the reason for this population’s incapacities
in working with the System, and for low level economic investments and public
services in the area. Identifying different sources of the same problem result in
different strategies among NAs, especially related to education of local residents as
citizens. Detailed in Chapter 4 and 6, the working class NAs underline education of
residents about their citizenship rights and skills to work within the System. NAs
with gentrifiers put emphasis on education about citizenship responsibilities, or
responsibilities as a member of a local community.
The local historic houses and structures are an important drive for this area’s
social and spatial change since 1980s. The area is one of the dense areas with
historic structures in Los Angeles. Parallel to the historic preservation movements
240
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
and increasing housing prices since early 1980s in the city, this area and a larger area
to its west—that is, West Adams District—get attention of various citizens. Since
then, this area has emerged with its relatively affordable historic housing stock in the
city, as Chapter 4 and 7 describes. Activists who care about historic preservation,
renters who plan to be homeowners, homeowners who seek purchasing historic
houses to live or to renovate and sell or rent, and realtors who seeks new real estate
markets are the visible players in this emergence. Promoting this area with its
architecturally rich and affordable housing stock for middle class people helps both
raising consciousness about historic preservation issues in the city and also
marketing the area to real estate seekers. These purposes also aim to overcome
negative reputation of this area as part of stigmatized South Central LA. Therefore,
third parties with such promotion strategies mediate most newcomers’ perception of
neighborhood issues and also reasons for involving in NAs. As detailed in Chapter
4, most gentrifier-members participate in NAs before they move in the area, but after
they get in touch with realtors and local NA leaders during the historic tours in the
area. Various mediated images of their status as owner of historic houses in this area
encourage these new residents to involve in NAs. Although being homeowner too,
the members of working class NAs did not get such mediated motivations for their
involvement in NAs. One reason might be that their houses are not necessarily
designated historic houses with a relatively better market value. They got their
initial motivations for involvement only after their physical experiences with local
crime and safety issues. I explain their reasons for involvement only during the
“crises” in relation to their limited individual resources that I summarized in the
previous section.
241
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
When two groups of NAs focus on their place-based issues, an invisible
support for pursuing their NA issues are, first, the presence and strength of law and
regulations supporting these issues, and second, NA members’ capacities for gaining
access to these resources. In previous section, I already explain that members of
working class NAs have more limited capacities for this access than gentrifier-
members. Another difference arises out of the presence of legal support in pursuing
primary issues of NAs, as detailed in Chapter 7. On crime and safety issues, both
groups work mostly with police officers and use their own means. Yet both federal
and local law and regulations provide extensive tools to deal with historic
preservation issues and, most importantly, citizen access to decision makings at
various level of the state.
Organizational Level
Economic and political processes impact also the voluntary sector that
constitutes an important part of NAs’ institutional context. This happens generally in
two ways. One is the changing relations between the state and the voluntary sector.
Today these relationships in advanced capitalist countries are more institutionalized
than it was in the past. They are cooperative rather than competitive and conflicting,
and focus on delivery of services rather than societal change (Wolch 1990; Hasson
and Ley 1994; Mayo and Craig 1994; Chaskin and Garg 1997). Another impact is
emergence of new beneficiaries of voluntary sector along with reduced state
spending in welfare programs and declining social benefits, demographic changes in
the inner city areas, and the urban redevelopment projects. My findings in my study
area reflect mostly the latter.
Majority of population in my study area is working class and low income
people of color. As detailed in Chapter 2, the percentage of families living below
242
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
the poverty level is as twice as higher than the figures for the city and county.
Compared to city and county, a higher percentage of households get public
assistance income. These socio-economic characteristics keep this and larger area on
the agenda of various local community-based organizations that focus on economic
and community development, mostly around issues of affordable housing, job
opportunities and health issues. Some other non-local organizations focus on this
local population by mostly trying to mobilize them around labor issues and
immigrant rights. Most of these local organizations are affiliated with local
churches, and the non-local organizations use local churches to gain access to local
population in this area. These local churches have been also the grounds in
formation of some working class NAs or for NA members’ access to knowledge- and
expertise-based resources originated by the state and the voluntary sector.
Also spatial and locational characteristics of this area get some other
organizations’ attention. Its proximity to downtown with recent urban development
projects and housing a university that is the largest private employer in the city make
this area as the focus of coalitions by local business owners, especially along the
Figueroa Street, which is the main artery to the downtown. Also with its high
density of historic houses and structures, organizations about historic preservation
too are interested in this area. These provide with opportunities especially for the
development of NAs that focus on historic preservation issues, that is, the NAs with
gentrifiers.
Consequently, each group of NAs collaborates only with certain networks
within voluntary sector and not much with each other. Impacts of these networks on
NAs in my study area are mostly through their resources available to NAs and
emphasis on their agenda as a condition to share these resources. Thus, NAs who
243
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
share the exact issues and agenda with these large scale networks can guarantee their
access to these large resource-pools. These large scale networks’ insistence upon
their agenda in their collaborations is to increase their chances of attaining their goals
while spending resources reasonably. In my study area, especially the organizations
that focus on the economic and social development of low income population face
decreasing resources because of the increasing demand for their services. Besides
low paying and non-standardized jobs in service and manufacturing sector, cuts in
welfare services increase the number of new beneficiaries who need services and
goods by the voluntary sector. Consequently, these organizations allocate their
resources for the activities and local groups that might contribute to their agenda.
Within this point of view, they mostly perceive NAs’ place-based issues as limited to
aesthetic of the physical environment, and thus, as not serving their organizational
agenda. Ultimately, working class NAs in my study area mostly have limited pool of
resources originated by the voluntary sector. Yet sharing the exact issues within the
same geographic area with extensive grassroots and institutional networks of historic
preservation, NAs with gentrifiers have a resource-rich context drawn from
voluntary sector.
Implications of this Study for the Efforts for Local Governance
Many current initiatives in the public and voluntary sectors focus on
neighborhoods—or the very locales—, in order to promote the coordination of local
services, to fund social programs and activities in a more cohesive way, and to foster
citizen participation in decision-making related to urban policies. In other words,
they search for ways to create a formal structure of governance at the local level
(Chaskin and Garg 1997). As in the example of the recent formation of
neighborhood councils in the Los Angeles City, these initiatives usually approach
244
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
neighborhoods and local communities as the units of analysis and of action for
comprehensive reform and the coordination of services. Within these units,
however, the daily activities of existing local organizations, including NAs, have
already sought to develop similar local governance structures, long before any
formal initiatives for local governance existed in the area. These local community-
based initiatives are a force to be reckoned with; policy makers should pay attention
to them as they can impact the success or failure of any formal initiatives for local
governance.
How policy makers structure the conditions for citizen participation in this
kind of governance can make a substantial difference in how local governance can
act on behalf of the multiple interests in that locale. According to some studies, one
of the main factors for promoting participatory neighborhood governance is a strong
motivation to make participation work. This motivation has three sources: demand
from citizen groups, visionary government leaders, and participatory mandates
(Berry et al. 1993). My study suggests that these three sources might initiate a form
of governance, but do not guarantee that it will be a participatory democracy.
Any governance that aims at participatory democracy should put issues of
representation on the agenda and enable residents to represent themselves and have
the necessary resources to participate equally in discussions about issues. In
structuring the conditions for local governance, one of these issues is to define and
operationalize the appropriate roles for individual citizens, voluntary organizations,
local institutions, and local government. These attempts aim to bring representatives
from these groups to the table and to work side by side. These roles are usually
described as being on equal footing. However, the reality is that there is an unequal
distribution of power among governing members. For policy makers, such unequal
245
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
power relations are usually common between residents and professionals. Yet as my
study findings suggest, they are also common between and among locals within a
single residential area. As this study suggests, these unequal power relations among
locals appear along with the differences in NAs’ issues and resources.
What do these differences in power relations mean for local governance
initiatives? Why should the presence of these differences be a problem? My study
findings point out that any policy maker must approach these differences among
local groups as the causes of future unevenness of representation, participation, and
legitimation issues within the structure of local governance. The long-term viability
of local governance requires policy makers to intervene to improve conditions and
resources, and to enable leaders in local organizations to represent those residents
who have important stakes in the area but no platform for citizen participation.
If policy makers envision a local governance structure that develops and
sustains itself without any external initiative and control, they need to prioritize,
focusing first on ways to bring representatives of NAs together, help them recognize
their shared characteristics and address the fragmentation that is inherent in their
efforts. My study findings suggest that places of residence matter, in terms of
forming collective entities and actions, and as a basis for coalition-building despite
the differences local residents might have. Highlighting this finding might be part of
the strategy in bringing representatives of NAs together to the discussion table. This
might also invite them to develop future collaborations to improve their
neighborhoods around shared goals, in spite of the argument that the local
parochialism of place is not effective in larger economic, social and political realms
(Fisher and Kling 1993).
246
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Second, the recognition of differences—especially in NAs’ access to resource
pools—should be a policy priority. The need to recognize and value differences has
been on the table in recent years. To deal with this challenge, however, policy
makers rely on buzzwords, such as “the community,” for such initiatives without
reconciling the paradoxes between the values of solidarity and identity among
diverse communities. Meanwhile, in the context of political and economic
restructuring, the fragmentation of social groups in urban spaces and the resulting
problems are still a daily reality. Policy makers should invest in ways to recognize
these differences in identity. Here I am not suggesting a loose conception of
identity, as in “anything goes.” My emphasis is on recognizing that these differences
provide individuals with unique resources to bring to their participation in local
citizen activities, while also potentially forming particular barriers to such
involvement. As this study has stated, the social characteristics and relations of
individuals impact their opportunities and access to work, social rights, and decision
making processes through local citizen participation. Moreover, certain sets of
characteristics limit individuals’ opportunities more than their others. Consequently,
even if they have very strong motivations for participating, for example, single
women of color with children have fewer resources to become involved in local
citizenship activities than middle class couples without child care responsibilities.
My study findings point out a couple of policy making areas that need new
investments in order to recognize differences in social identities. These are mainly
the fields of the education, labor market, and family. As most other studies
emphasize, the stratification in the labor market and the institutions such as the
family based on capitalist and patriarchial relations result mostly in the financial and
time-based constraints to the working class people of color, mostly women. Here I
247
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
will limit my suggestions for improvement only to the education field. As in my
study site, grassroots activists address such differences in their local community by
focusing on issues of education. Like most policy makers, they take education as a
precondition for “active citizenship.” Yet different approaches among these activists
suggest that “education for citizenship” should not be limited to teaching of one’s
responsibilities as part of a community, or as part of the passive constituency of the
state and thus, to obey the laws in particular. As mostly apparent in the efforts of
working class NAs, it should give individuals a knowledge of their rights and
opportunities to participate in the development, management and control of their
communal affairs and place of residence. It should also teach them how to improve
skills required to perform these functions. Education of citizens should ultimately
need to give citizens an interest in democracy and self-governance.
248
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Abu-Lughod, Janet L. 1994. From Urban Village to East Village : the battle for New
York's Lower East Side. Oxford, U K ; Cambridge, USA: Blackwell.
Ackelberg, Martha A. 1988. “Communities, Resistance, and Women’s Activism:
Some Implications for Democratic Polity” in A. Bookman and S. Morgen,
(eds.). Women and the Politics of Empowerment. Philadelphia: Temple
Univ. Press.
Agnew, John A. 1987. Place and Politics. The Geographical Mediation of State and
Society. London: Allen and Unwin.
Agnew, John A. 1993. “Representing Space: Space, Scale, and Culture in Social
Science.” In James Duncan and D. Ley (eds.). Place/ Culture/
Representation. London and New York: Routledge.
Ahlbrandt, Roger S., Jr. 1984. Neighborhoods. People, and Community. New York :
Plenum Press.
Anderson, Elijah. 1990. Streetwise : Race. Class, and Change in an Urban
Community. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Anderson, K. 1991. Vancouver’s Chinatown: Racial Discourse in Canada. 1875-
1980. Vancouver: Univ. of British Columbia Press.
Anzaldua, Gloria. 1990. “La Conciensa de la Mestiza: Towards a New
Consciousness”, in G. Anzaldua (ed.). Making Face. Making Soul. An Aunt
Lute Foundation Book: San Francisco.
Arnold, Joseph L. 1979. “The Neighborhood and City Hall: The Origin of
Neighborhood Associations in Baltimore, 1880-1910.” Journal of Urban
History 6:3-30.
Baker, Paula. 1989. “The Domestication of Politics: Women and American Political
Society, 1790-1920.” American Historical Review 89/ June: 620-47.
Barber, B. 1984. Strong Democracy: Participatory Politics for a New Age.
University of California Press: Berkeley, CA.
Baum, T. and P. Kingston 1984. “Homeownership and Social Attachment,”
Sociological Perspectives 27/2:159-80.
249
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Beauregard, Robert A. 1995. “If Only the City Could Speak: The Politics of
Representation” in Helen Liggett and David C. Perry (Eds). Spatial Practices.
Thousand Oaks, London, New Delhi: Sage Publ.
Benn, S. and G. Gaus. 1983. “The Public and the Private: Concepts and Action,” in
S. Benn and G. Gaus (eds.). Public and Private in Social Life. London:
Croom Helm.
Berger, Peter and R. J. Neuhaus. 1977. To Empower People: The Roles of
Mediating Structures in Public Policy. Washington, D.C.: American
Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research.
Berry, Jeffrey M., Kent E. Portney and Ken Thompson. 1993. The Rebirth of Urban
Democracy. Washington, D.C.: The Bookings Institution.
Bobo, Lawrence D. et al. (eds.). 2000. Prismatic Metropolis: Inequality in Los
Angeles. New York: Russell Sage Foundation.
Bookman, A. and S. Morgen, (eds.) 1988. Women and the Politics of
Empowerment. Philadelphia: Temple Univ. Press.
Boyte, Harry C. 1980. The Backyard Revolution: Understanding the New Citizen
Movement. Philadelphia: Temple Univ. Press.
Bums, Nancy; Kay L. Schlozman, and S.Verba. 1997. “The Public Consequences
of Private Inequality: Family Life and Citizen Participation.” American
Political Science Review. Vol.91, No.2: 373-389.
Bums, James M. 1978. Leadership. New York: Harper and Row.
Castells, Manuel. 1983. City and the Grassroots. Berkeley: University of California
Press.
Chaskin, Robert J. and S. Garg. 1997. “The Issue of Governance in Neighborhood
Initiatives.” Urban Affairs Review. 32/5:631-661.
Chaskin, Robert. 1994. Defining Neighborhood: History. Theory, and Practice.
Chicago: Chapin Hall Center for Children, Univ. of Chicago.
Clarke, Susan S., L. A. Staeheli and L. Brunell. 1995. “Women Redefining Local
Politics,” in David Judge, G. Stoker, and H. Wolman (eds.). Theories of
Urban Politics. London, Thousand Oaks, and New Delhi: Sage Publications.
250
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Conover, P.J., I. M. Crewe and D. Searing. 191. “The Nature of Citizenship in the
United States and Great Britain.” Journal of Politics. 53:800-832.
Cox, Kevin. 1978. “Local Interests and Urban Political Processes in Market
Societies.” In K. R. Cox (ed.). Urbanization and Conflict in Market
Societies. Chicago: Maaroufa Press and London: Methuen.
Cox, Kevin. 1981. “Capitalism and Conflict around the Communal Living Space.”
In M. Dear and Allen J. Scott (eds.). Urbanization and Urban Planning in
Capitalist Society. London and New York: Methuen.
Cox, Kevin. 1982. “Housing Tenure and Neighborhood Activism,” Urban Affairs
Quarterly 18/1:107-29.
Dahl, Robert. 1989. Democracy and its Critics. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Davis, John E. 1991. Contested Ground: Collective Action and the Urban
Neighborhood. Ithaca: Cornell Univ. Press.
Davis, Mike. 1992. City of Quartz. New York: Vintage Books
Dear, M. and J. Wolch. 1989. “How Territory Shapes Social Life.” in J. R. Wolch
and M. Dear (eds.) 1989. The Power of Geography. Boston: Unwin Hyman
Dear, Michael J. and J. Long. 1978. “Community Strategies in Locational Conflict.”
In Kevin R. Cox (ed.). Urbanization and Conflict in Market Societies.
Chicago: Maaroufa.
DeSena, Judith N. 1994. Protecting One’s Turf: Social Strategies for Maintaining
Urban Neighborhoods. Lanham: Univ. Press of America.
Dietz, Mary G. 1987. “Context is All: Feminism and Theories of Citizenship.” In
Jill K. Conway, S. C. Bourque, and J.W. Scott (eds.). Learning About
Women: Gender. Politics, and Power. Ann Arbor: Univ. of Michigan Press.
Dyck, Isabel. 1989. “Integrating Home and Wage Workplace: Women’s Daily Lives
in a Canadian Suburb.” Canadian Geographer 33: 329-41.
Elstain, Jean B. 1982. “Aristotle, the Public-Private Split, and the Case of the
Suffragists,” in The Family in Political Thought. Amherst: Univ. of
Massachusetts Press.
Etzioni, A. 1993. The Spirit of Community: The Reinvention of American Society.
New York: Touchstone.
251
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Fainstein, Susan S. and C. Hirst. 1995. “Urban Social Movements,” in David Judge,
G. Stoker, and H. Wolman (eds.). Theories of Urban Politics. London,
Thousand Oaks, and New Delhi: Sage Publications.
Fainstein, N. and S. Fainstein. 1993. “Participation in New York and London:
Community and Market Under Capitalism.” In R. Fisher and J. Kling (eds.)
Mobilizing the Community: Local Politics in the Era of the Global City.
Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Fainstein, Susan S., N. I. Fainstein. et al. (eds.) 1983. Restructuring the Citv: the
Political Economy of Urban Redevelopment. New York : Longman.
Fainstein, Susan S. and N. Fainstein. 1991. “The Effectiveness of Community
Politics: New York City.” In M. P. Smith (ed). Breaking Chains: Social
Movements and Collective Action. New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Publ.
Fisher, Robert. 1984. Let the People Decide: Neighborhood Organizing in America.
Boston: Twayne Publication.
Fisher, R. and J. Kling (eds.). 1993. Mobilizing the Community: Local Politics in
the Era of the Global Citv. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Fischer, Claude and et al. 1977. Networks and Places: Social Relations in the
Urban Setting. New York: Free Press.
Flanagan, Maureen A. 2002. Seeing with Their Hearts : Chicago Women and the
Vision of the Good Citv, 1871-1933. Princeton, N.J. : Princeton University
Press.
Fraser, Nancy. 1992. “Rethinking the Public Sphere”, in G. Calhoun (ed.).
Habermas and Public Sphere. Boston: MIT Press.
Fraser, N. and L. Gordon. 1992. “Contract versus Charity?: Why is There No Social
Citizenship in United States?” Socialist Review. 22: 45-67.
Freeman, Jo. 1979. “Resource Mobilization Strategy: A Model for Analyzing Social
Movement Organization Actions.” In Mayer N. Zald and John D McCarthy
(eds.). The Dynamics of Social Movements. Cambridge, Ma.: Winthrop
Publishers.
Gans, Herbert J. 1962. The Urban Villagers: Group and Class in the Life of Italian
Americans. New York: The Free Press.
252
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Gammage, G. et al. 1982. Historic Preservation in California: A Legal Handbook.
Stanford, Calif.: Stanford Environmental Law Society.
Garber, Judith A. and Robyne S. Turner (eds.). 1995. Gender in Urban Research.
Thousand Oaks, London, and New Delhi: Sage Publications.
Gamer, Roberta A. and M. N. Zald. 1987. “The Political Economy of Social
Movement Sectors.” In Mayer N. Zald and John D McCarthy (eds.) Social
Movements in an Organizational Society. New Brunswick and Oxford:
Transaction Books.
Gilbert, Melissa R. 1997. “Feminism and Difference in Urban Geography,” Urban
Geography vol. 18 no.2:166-79.
Gilbert, Melissa R. 2000. “Identity, Differences, and the Geographies of Working
Poor Women's Survival Strategies.” In K. B. Miranne and A. H. Young (eds.)
Gendering the Citv : women, boundaries, and visions of urban life. Lanham,
M d.: Rowman & Littlefield.
Gittell, Marilyn. 1980. Limits to Citizen Participation: The Decline of community
organizations. Beverly Hills and London.: Sage Publ.
Glenn, Evelyn N. 1985. “Racial Ethnic Women’s Labor: The Intersection of Race,
Gender, and Class Oppression” Review of Radical Political Economics, vol.
17 (3): 86-108.
Gottdiener, Mark. 1987. The Decline of Urban Politics: Politial Theory and the
Crisis of the Local State. Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage Publications
Hardy-Fanta, Carol. 1993. Latina Politics. Latino Politics: Gender. Culture, and
Political Participation in Boston. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Harvey, David. 1978. “Labor, Capital, and Class Straggle around the Built
Environment in Advanced Capitalist Societies.” In K. R. Cox (ed.).
Urbanization and Conflict in Market Societies. Chicago: Maaroufa Press and
London: Methuen.
Harvey, D. 1989. The Condition of Postmodemitv. Oxford, UK: Blackwell.
Harwood, Stacy. 2001. Locating Gender in the Planning Process: Municipal
Housekeeping in Santa Ana. California. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation.
University of Southern California.
253
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Hasson, Shlomo and D. Ley. 1997. “Neighborhood Organizations, the Welfare
State, and Citizenship Rights.” Urban Affairs Review. 33/1:28-58.
Hasson, Shlomo and D. Ley. 1994. Neighborhood Organizations and the Welfare
State. Toronto, Buffalo, and London: Univ. of Toronto Press.
Hayden, Dolores. 1980. “What Would a Non-Sexist City Be Like? Speculations on
Housing, Urban Design, and Human Work.” Signs: Journal of Women in
Culture and Society. 5 /3 :170-187.
Hayden, Dolores. 1984. Redesigning the American Dream: the Future of Housing.
Work, and Family Life. New York: W.W. Norton.
Haywoode, Terry L. 1991. Working Class Feminism: Creating a Politics of
Community. Connection, and Concern. Ph. D. Dissertation. The City
University of New York.
Held, D. 1989. Political Theory and the Modem State. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Heskin, Alan. 1991. The Struggle for Community. Boulder, San Francisco, and
Oxford: Westview Press:
Hill Collins, Patricia. 1990. Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge. Consciousness
and the Politics of Empowerment. New York: Routledge.
Hise, Greg. 1997. Magnetic Los Angeles: Planning the Twentieth-Century
Metropolis. Baltimore: The John Hopkins Univ. Press.
Holston, J. 1996. “Spaces of Insurgent Citizenship.” Architectural Design. 66
(ll/12):54-59.
Holston, James. 1989. The Modernist Citv: An Anthropological Critique of
Brasilia. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Hondagneu-Sotelo, P. 2001. Domestica : Immigrant Workers Cleaning and Caring
in the Shadows of Affluence. Berkeley, Calif.: University of California
Press.
Hondagneu-Sotelo, P. 1994. Gendered Transitions: Mexican Experiences of
Immigration. Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press.
Huckfeldt, Robert et al. 1993. “Alternative Contexts of Political Behavior:
Churches, Neighborhoods, and Individuals.” The Journal of Politics. 55/2:
366-81.
254
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Hunter, Albert. 1978. “Persistence of Local Sentiments in Mass Society.” In D.
Street (ed). Handbook of Contemporary Urban Life. San Francisco,
Washington, and London: Jossey-Bass Publications.
Jackson, Kenneth T. 1985. Crabgrass Frontier: the Suburbanization of the United
States. New York: Oxford University Press.
Jackson, Maria-Rosaria. 1996. Comprehensive Community Planning and Action in
the Multi-Ethnic Inner Citv: Lessons from South Los Angeles. Ph.D.
Dissertation. University of California, Los Angeles.
Judd, Dennis R. and T. Swanstrom. 2002. Citv Politics: Private Power and Public
Policy. 3rd ed. New York: Longman.
Katz, Daniel, and Robert L. Kahn. 1978. The Sociology Psychology of
Organizations. Second Edition. New York: Wiley.
Katznelson, Ira. 1981. Citv Trenches: Urban Politics and the Patterning of Class in
the United States. New York: Pantheon.
Kearns, Ade. 1995. “Active Citizenship and Local Governance: Political and
Geographical Dimensions.” Political Geography 14 (2): 155-175.
Kemmis, D. 1990. Community and the Politics of Place. Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press.
Knoke, D. and J. R. Wood. 1981. Organized for Action: Commitment in Voluntary
Associations. Rutgers University Press: New Brunswick, New Jersey.
Kobayashi, A. & Peake, L. 2000. "Racism out of Place: Thoughts on Whiteness and
an Antiracist Geography in the New Millennium." Annals of the Association
of American Geographers. 90/2: 392-403.
Krumholz, Norman and John Forester. 1990. Making Equity Planning Work :
Leadership in the Public Sector. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Kymlicka, W. and W. Norman. 1994. “Return of the Citizen: A Survey of Recent
Work on Citizenship Theory.” Ethics. 104/2: 352-81.
Lamphere, Louise. 1992. “Introduction: The Shaping of Diversity.” In L.
Lamphere (ed.). Structuring Diversity: Ethnographic Perspectives on the
New Immigration. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.
255
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Leavitt, J. and S. Saegert. 1990. From Abandonment to Hope: Community
Households in Harlem. New York: Columbia Univ. Press.
Lefebvre, Henri. 1991. The Production of Space. Translated by Donald Nicholson-
Smith. Oxford, OX, U K ; Cambridge, Mass., USA: Blackwell.
Ley, David, and J. Mercer . 1980. "Locational Conflict and the Politics of
Consumption" Economic Geography. 56: 89-109.
Liggett, Helen and David C. Perry (eds). Spatial Practices. Thousand Oaks, London,
New Delhi: Sage Publ.
Lister, Ruth. 1997a. Citizenship: Feminist Perspectives. London: Macmillan.
Lister, R. 1997b. “Dialectics of Citizenship.” Hypatia. 12 (4): 6-26.
Logan, J. R. and J. Molotch. 1987. Urban Fortunes: The Political Economy of
Place. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Lowndes, Vivien. 1995. “Citizenship and Urban Politics.” In David Judge, G.
Stoker, and H. Wolman (eds.). Theories of Urban Politics. London,
Thousand Oaks, and New Delhi: Sage Publications.
MacKenzie, S. 1989. “Women in the City.” In N. Thrift (ed.) New Models in
Geography: the Political-Economv Perspective. London, Boston: Unwin
Hyman.
Mansbridge, J. 1983. Beyond Adversary Democracy. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
Marcuse, Peter. 1970. Housing Policy and Social Indicators: Strangers or Siblings?
Berkeley: Institute of Urban & Regional Development, University of
California.
Markusen, Ann R. 1980. "City Spatial Structure, Women’s Household Work, and
National Urban Policy." Signs. 5 (3): 23-44.
Marston, S. A. 2000. “The Social Construction of Scale.” Progress in Human
Geography. 24 (2): 219-242.
Marston, S. A. 1990. “Who are the ‘People’?: Gender, Citizenship, and the Making
of the American Nation.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space.
8; 449-458.
256
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Marston, S. A. and L. A. Staeheli. 1994. “Citizenship, Struggle, and Political and
Economic Restructuring.” Environment and Planning A. 26; 840-48.
Marris, Peter. 1987. Meaning and Action: Community Planning and Conceptions of
-Change. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
Marshall, T. H. 1964. Class. Citizenship, and Social Development: Essays bv T. H.
Marshall. New York: Doubleday.
McCarthy, John D. and M. N. Zald. 2003. “Social Movement Organizations.” In J.
Goodwin and J. M. Jasper (eds.). The Social Movements Reader. Malden,
MA: Blackwell Publishing.
McCarthy, John D. and M. N. Zald. 1973. The Trend of Social Movements in
America. Morristown, N.J.: General Learning Corporation.
McCourt, Kathleen. 1977. Working-Class Women and Grass-Roots Politics.
Bloomington and London: Indiana University Press.
McDowell, Linda. 1993. “Space, place and gender relation: Part I. Feminist
Empiricism and the Geography of Social Relations.” Human Geography. 17
(2): 157-79.
McDowell, Linda and D. Massey. 1984. “A womans place?” In D. Massey & J.
Allen Geography Matters!: A Reader. New York : Cambridge University
Press in association with the Open University.
Massey, Doreen. 1993. “Power-geometry and a Progressive Sense of Place.” In J.
Bird, B. Curtis, T. Putnam, G. Robertson, and L. Tickner (eds.). Mapping the
Futures. Pp.59-69. London and New York: Routledge.
Massey, Doreen. 1994. Space. Place, and Gender. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press.
Massey, Doreen. 1995. “Places and Their Pasts.” History Workshop Journal. 39:
182-192.
Mayo, Marjorie and G. Craig. 1995. “Community Participation and Empowerment:
The Human Face of Structural Adjustment or Tools for Democratic
Transformation?” In G. Craig and M. Mayo (eds.). Community
Empowerment. London and New Jersey: Zed Books.
257
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
McClenahan, Bessie A. 1929. The Changing Urban Neighborhood: From
Neighborhood to Nigh-Dweller. Los Angeles: Semicentennial Publications
of the Univ. of Southern California.
McEwan, Cherly. 2000. “Engendering Citizenship: Gendered Spaces of Democracy
in South Africa.” Political Geography. 19: 627-51.
Mead, L. 1986. Beyond Entitlement: The Social Obligations of Citizenship. New
York: The Free Press.
Medoff, Peter and H. Sklar. 1994. Streets of Hope: The Fall and Rise of an Urban
Neighborhood. Boston: South End Press.
Mele, Christopher. 2000. Selling the Lower East Side: Culture. Real Estate, and
Resistance in New York Citv. Minneapolis : University of Minnesota Press.
Meyer, John W. and B. Rowan. 1977. “Institutionalized Organizations: Formal
Structure as myth and Ceremony.” American Journal of Sociology. 83: 340-
362.
Milroy, Beth M. and S. Wismer. 1994. “Communities, Work and Public/Private
Sphere Models.” Gender. Place and Culture. 1 (1): 71-90.
Milroy, Beth M. 1991. "Taking Stock of Planning, Space, and Gender," Journal of
Planning Literature. 6 (1): 99-106.
Mollenkopf, John H. 1983. The Contested Citv. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton
Univ. Press.
Molotch, Harvey. "The City as a Growth Machine: Toward a Political Economy of
Place." American Journal of Sociology. 82:309-21.
Molyneux, Maxine. 1985. “Mobilization without Emancipation? Women’s
Interests, State and Revolution in Nicaragua.” Feminist Studies. 11 (2): 227-
34.
Moser, Carolyn O. N. 1993. Gender Planning and Development: Theory. Practice
and Training. London and New York: Routledge.
Naples, Nancy A. (ed.) 1998. Community Activism and Feminist Politics:
Organizing Across Race. Class, and Gender. London and New York:
Routledge.
258
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Narayan, U. 1997. “Towards a Feminist Vision of Citizenship: Rethinking the
Implications of Dignity, Political Participation, and Nationality.” In M. L.
Shanley and U. Narayan (eds.). Reconstructing Political Theory.
Cambridge: Polity.
Olson, Mancur, Jr. 1965. The Logic of Collective Action. New York: Schocken
Books.
Ong, Paul and E. Blumenberg. 1992. “Income and Racial Inequality in Los
Angeles.” In Allen J. Scott and E. W. Soja (eds.). The Citv. Berkeley, Los
Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press.
Painter, Joe, and C. Philo. 1995. “Spaces of Citizenship: Introduction.” Political
Geography. 14 (2): 107-21.
Pardo, Mary S. 1990. Identity and Resistance : Mexican-American Women and
Grassroots Activism in Two Los Angeles Communities. Ph. D. Dissertation.
Univ. of California, Los Angeles.
Park, Robert, E. W. Burgess and R. D. McKenzie. (1925) 1967. The Citv.
Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.
Pateman, Carol. 1989. The Disorder of Women: Democracy. Feminism, and
Political Theory. Stanford, California: Stanford Univ. Press.
Paul, Samuel. 1987. Community Participation in Development Projects: World
Bank Experience. World Bank Discussion Paper no.6. Washington, D.C.:
World Bank
Peake,, Linda J. 1995. “Toward an Understanding of the Interconnectedness of
Women’s Lives: The ‘Racial’ Reproduction of Labor in Low Income Urban
Areas.” Urban Geography 16 (5): 414-39.
Penrose, J. and P. Jackson. 1994. “Conclusion: Identity and the Politics of
Difference.” In P. Jackson and J. Penrose (eds.). Constructions of Race.
Place and Nation. Minneapolis : University of Minnesota Press.
Peterson, P. 1981. Citv Limits. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.
Perin, Constance. 1977. Everything in Its Place: Social Order and Land Use in
America. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press.
Perrow, Charles. 1970, "Members as Resources in Voluntary Organizations: in
Wiilliam R. Rosengren and Mark Lefton (eds.), Organizations and
Clients, pp.93-116. Columbus, Ohio: Merril.
259
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Pierson, Robert J. 1990. The Deliberative Vigilance Model of Urban Neighborhood
Reform : a Case Study of the North University Park Community Association
1977-1985. Ph.D. Dissertation. University of Southern California.
Peake,, Linda J. 1995. “Toward an Understanding of the Interconnectedness of
Women’s Lives: The ‘Racial’ Reproduction of Labor in Low Income Urban
Areas.” Urban Geography 16/ 5: 414-39.
Pincus, Fred L. and Howard J. Ehrlich (eds.). 1999. Race and Ethnic Conflict. 2nd
ed. Boulder: Westview Press
Pred, Allan. 1983. “Structuration and Place: On the Becoming of Sense of Place and
Structure of Feeling.” Journal for the Theory of Social Behavior. 13/1:45-
68.
Pred, Allan. 1984. “Place as Historically Contingent Process: Structuration and the
Time-Geography of Becoming Places.” Annals of the Assoc.of American
Geographers. 74/2: 279-297.
Pulido, Laura. 1997. “Community, Place, and Identity.” In John P. Jones III, Heidi
J. Nast, and S. M. Robert (eds.). Thresholds in Feminist Geography. New
York: Rowman and Littlefield Publ.
Pulido, Laura, S. Sidawi, and R. O. Vos. 1996. “An Archaeology of Environmental
Racism in Los Angeles.” Urban Geography. 17: 419-39.
Rabrenovic, Gordana. 1996. Community Builders: A Tale of Neighborhood
Mobilization in Two Cities. Philadelphia: Temple Univ. Press.
Rich, Richard. 1986. “Neighborhood-based Participation in the Planning Process:
Promise and Reality.” In Ralph Taylor (ed.). Urban Neighborhoods:
Research and Policy. New York: Praeger.
Rich, R. C. 1980a. “A Political-economic Approach to the Study of Neighborhood
Organizations.” American Journal of Political Science. 24: 559-92.
Rich, R. C. 1980b. “The Dynamics of leadership in Neighborhood Organizations.”
Social Science Quarterly. 60/ 4: 570-587.
Ruddick, Susan. 1996. “Constructing Differences in Public Spaces: Race, Class, and
Gender as Interlocking Systems.” Urban Geography. 17 (2): 132-151.
260
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Ryan, Mary P. 1992. “Gender and Public Access: Women’s Politics in Nineteenth-
Century America.” In C. Calhoun (ed.). Habermas and the Public Sphere.
MIT Press: Cambridge, Mass.
Saegert, S. 1980. “Masculine Cities and Feminine Suburbs.” Signs. 5 (3): 96-111.
Schlozman, Kay, N. Bums, s. Verba. 1994. “Gender and the Pathways to
Participation: The Role of Resources.” Journal of Politics. 56 (May): 963-
990.
Scott, Allen J. and E. W. Soja (eds.). The City. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London:
Univ. of California Press.
Shah, Nayan. 2001. Contagious Divides: Epidemics and Race in San Francisco’s
Chinatown. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press.
Shklar, Judith. 1991. American Citizenship: The Quest for Inclusion. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard Univ. Press.
Silver, Christopher. 1985. “Neighborhood Planning in Historical Perspective.”
Journal of American Planning Association. (Spring): 161-74.
Sivulka, Juliann. 1999. “From Domestic to Municipal Housekeeper: The Influence
of Sanitary Reform Movement on Changing Women’s Roles in America,
1860-1920.” Journal of American Culture. 22/ 4.
Smith, Dorothy. 1987. The Everyday World As Problematic: A Feminist Sociology.
Boston: Northeastern Univ. Press.
Smith, Neil. 1996. The New Urban Frontier: Gentrification and the Revanchist City.
London and New York: Routledge.
Smith, Susan. 1989. “Society, Space, and Citizenship: A Human Geography for the
“New Times”?” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 14: 144-
156.
Soja, Edward W. 1989. Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in
Critical Social Theory. London and New York: Verso.
Spain, Daphne. 1992. Gendered Spaces. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina
Press.
Stack, Carol B. 1974. All Our Kin: Strategies for Survival in a Black Community.
New York: Harper and Row Publishers.
261
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Staeheli, Lynn A. 1997. “Citizenship and the Search for Community.” In L. A.
Staeheli, J.E. Kodras, and C. Flint (eds.). State Devolution in America:
Implications for a Diverse Society. Sage Publications: Thousand Oaks.
Staeheli, L.A . and A. Thompson. 1997. “Citizenship, Community, and Struggles for
Public Space.” Professional Geographer. 49 (1): 28-38.
Staeheli, Lynn A. 1996. “Publicity, Privacy, and Women’s Political Action.”
Environment and Planning D: Society and Space. 14: 601-619.
Staeheli, Lynn A. and S. E. Clarke. 1995. “Gender, Place, and Citizenship.” In
Judith A. Garber and R. S. Turner (eds.). Gender in Urban Research.
Thousand Oaks, Cal.: Sage Publications.
Staeheli, Lynn A. and M. S. Cope. 1994. “Empowering Women’s Citizenship.”
Political Geography. 13 (5): 443-460.
Staeheli, L. A. 1994. “Restructuring Citizenship in Pueblo, Colorado.”
Environment and Planning A. 2: 849-871.
Susser, Ida. 1982. Norman Street: Poverty and Politics in an Urban Neighborhood.
New York and Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press.
Suttles, Gerald D. 1972. The Social Construction of Communities. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Swanstrom, T. 1993. “Beyond Economism: Urban Political Economy and the
Postmodern Challenge.” Journal of Urban Affairs. 15 (1): 55-78.
Talen, Emily. 2000. “The Problem with Community in Planning.” Journal of
Planning Literature. 15/2: 171-183.
Taylor, C. 1985. Human Agency and Language. Cambridge; New York :
Cambridge University Press.
Tilly, C. 1991. “Reasons for Continuing Growth of Part-time Employment.”
Monthly Labor Review. 114:10-18.
Turner, B. S. 1990. “Outline of a Theory of Citizenship.” Sociology. 24:189-217.
Verba, S. 1990. “Women in American Politics.” In L.A. Tilly and P. Gurin (eds.).
Women, Politics, and Change. New York: Russell Sage.
262
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Verba, Sidney, K. L. Schlozman, and H. E. Brady. 1995. Voice and equality: Civic
Voluntarism in American Politics. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press.
Verba, Sidney and N. Nie. 1972. Participation in America. New York: Harper and
Row.
Von Hoffman, Alexander. 2003. House by House. Block bv Block : the Rebirth of
America's Urban Neighborhoods. New York: Oxford University Press.
Waldinger, Roger and Mehdi Bozorgmehr (eds.). 1996. Ethnic Los Angeles. New
York: Russell Sage Foundation.
Walzer, Michael. 1983. Spheres of Justice: a Defense of Pluralism and Equality.
New York : Basic Books.
Weisman, Leslie K. 1992. Discrimination bv Design: A Feminist Critique of the
Man-Made Environment. Urbana: Univ. of Illinois Press.
Western, J. 1981. Outcast Capetown. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Wolch, Jennifer R. and M. Dear (eds.) 1989. The Power of Geography. Boston:
Unwin Hyman.
Wolch, Jennifer R. 1990. The Shadow State: Government and Voluntary Sector in
Transition. New York: The Foundation Center.
Young, Iris M. 1990. Justice and the Politics of Difference. Princeton, New Jersey:
Princeton Univ. Press.
Yuchtman, Ephraim, and S. E. Seashore. 1967, "A system Resource Approach to
Organizational Effectiveness." American Sociological Review. 32(Dec.):891-
903.
263
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.

Linked assets

University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Conceptually similar

PDF

City planning and political ideology in East and West Berlin (Germany), 1949 to 1989: An examination of the urban design of public housing on both sides of the Wall

PDF

Faith -based organizations, international development agencies, and environmental management

PDF

Ideologies and champions: Universal Service from Congress to your telephone bill

PDF

Dimensions of the locational conflict around siting service facilities for the homeless

PDF

Immigrants and housing attainment: Different forms of residential assimilation

PDF

Economic transition, micro- and small -scale enterprise in Zimbabwe, and the significance of participatory development to institutional economics

PDF

In this nature: Culture, place, and attitudes toward marine animals

PDF

Institutional analysis of evolution of housing cooperatives in India

PDF

Anti-gay violence in the city of West Hollywood

PDF

*Class and place within the Los Angeles African American community, 1940--1990

PDF

"Focused free thinking" in military intelligence analysis: Lessons from best practices

PDF

Estimation of origin -destination matrices from link traffic counts and user equilibrium link information

PDF

Evaluation of policy alternatives to alleviate transportation-related air pollution

PDF

Engaging communities in the planning of new urban public schools

PDF

Before and after reform: The effects of structural adjustment on women's employment in Latin America

PDF

Citizenship, property, and place: land and housing in South Africa

PDF

Infrastructure investment and regional productivity of the manufacturing industries in Mexico

PDF

Feeding the inner city: Geographies of food retailing in South Los Angeles

PDF

Intra-metropolitan variation in residential mortgage prepayment risks: Unobserved factors and estimation bias

PDF

Come out West: Communication and the gay and lesbian migration to San Francisco, 1940s--1960s

Asset Metadata

Creator Senol, Fatma (author)

Core Title Differences in the development of citizenship: Residents' motivations and capacities for participating in neighborhood associations in Los Angeles

School Graduate School

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Urban Planning

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag OAI-PMH Harvest,political science, general,sociology, social structure and development,Urban and Regional Planning

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Advisor Krieger, Martin H. (committee chair), Hise, Greg (committee member), Wolch, Jennifer (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c16-331426

Unique identifier UC11335507

Identifier 3155476.pdf (filename),usctheses-c16-331426 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier 3155476.pdf

Dmrecord 331426

Document Type Dissertation

Rights Senol, Fatma

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus, Los Angeles, California 90089, USA