I began my journey, nine-years-old, walking up SE Powell St towards my grandmother’s house. My cousin and I had our allowance of five dollars each and could have used the money to get on the bus instead of walking the 100 blocks to her house but it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, there were no clouds in the sky and the walk meant we had time to talk about whatever nine-year-olds talk about. This was back in 1991 when SE Portland was a peaceful and safer place to live. I didn’t worry about gangs of any sort, getting picked up by the local kidnapper or getting hit by any drivers that were in too much of a hurry to get to their destinations…
[Twenty years later] My son wants to go play at a friend’s house three blocks away, same neighborhood, same streets, and the same time of day during the summer. Instead of trusting that he will be ok walking the three blocks, I slip into my flip-flops, put my youngest in her car sear and drive him and his rip stick to his friend’s house. The threat of gang, drug or other harmful activity has ripped through SE Portland to show that gentrification of the inner city doesn’t always help a city.
I moved away for five years and during the time that I was gone, SE Portland has become such a significantly dangerous place to live that I feel more comfortable walking down streets of East Oakland than parking in my own parking space. Hoodlums and drug dealers hang on the “block” that I drive past to go home and from sun up until sun down I hear their loud talking and cars stopping to collect whatever they sell.
What does it mean to gentrify the inner city if it means the tearing down of the suburbs? The places that were nice and comfortable for people to come home now are filled with fear, drugs and gang activity.
– Natasha Piper
