Salutations

Hey, hi.

As with anything in adolescence (or even through one's quarter-life), this blog is undergoing a serious identity crisis. Right now, it's in its emo phase...a phase one can only hope it will outgrow.

But affordable housing is a heavy issue. This picture, many of you may be familiar with, is the infamous Pruitt-Igoe housing complex in St. Louis, Missouri. Designed by Detroit architect Minoru Yamasaki (of WTC fame) and opened in 1954 for 10,000 residents, the project was hailed as a marvel of Modernism. But the changing racial and economic landscape of St. Louis meant that Pruitt-Igoe became completely ghettoized within two years of opening, as white flight and urban poverty proliferated. The very design that was hailed by the Modern movement, became completely co-opted as an almost perfect catalyst for crime. Efforts to fix the problems were too little to late: playgrounds were only added after residents petitioned the city, elevators, which only stopped every three floors, created circulation nightmares, green-spaces became war zones, mice and cockroaches proliferated. With the exception of miscreants, no one took ownership of the space, and thus took almost no care of it. The federal government exacerbated the problem by letting the project fall into complete disrepair. Modernism failed the people, and the people failed Modernism.

By 1970, what had become a federally-contrived slum, was largely abandoned by its residents. On March 16, 1972, the entire nation watched as an eighteen-year long nightmare finally came to an end. At least we thought.

Thirty-six years later, the government has remained largely out of the affordable housing-picture. Since its 1965 establishment, the Department of Housing and Urban Development has only dabbled in policy, and contributed no more than to subsidize new affordable housing projects. HUD still maintains a stock of housing projects built through the 70's, but that stock has been significantly reduced since the 1992 HOPE VI program.

It's not that the federal government needs to intervene in order for the problem to be significantly addressed. In fact, we're probably better off without them (except their money). Beyond Habitat for Humanity, grassroots organizations have sprung up across the country to address affordable housing and the issues that surround it. Its just that, to adequately address the problem, we as a nation need to realize that its not just about building something cheap and nice. As an architect, I will probably not be the first to admit that architecture alone does not solve any ills (except aesthetic ones), something Modernism did not exactly understand.


The amazing thing about living near a city like Detroit is not just seeing exactly what has been lost, both physically and emotionally, and finding concern for those who seem to be recreating the errors of the past, but also finding hope through those residents who care deeply for what is left. Despite what picture the media may paint, Detroit has one of the biggest hearts of any city I have ever known. Here, people still abandon the city every day, crime is as rampant as any other major city, and race has effectively divided the city from its suburbs (8 Mile), but those who still hold out hope are doing immeasurable things to hold the city together. Here, affordable housing isn't just about building shelter, its about maintaining (and often salvaging) neighborhoods, establishing and maintaining ownership, establishing and maintaining livelihoods, and most importantly (if not building community) building mutual respect for other residents, despite the many divisions the city still sees. I've spent much time in Detroit, and every visit am more heartened by people who put their hearts into this city. They talk to me...some of the nicest people I've ever met...they want to know why I am here and how I may be helping them. But they alone are doing a great deed by hoping for the best in the place they call home, and even more by putting that hope to work.

This little transcontinental trek begins in three short days, on which I hope to find the same spirit in all the places we visit and all the people we meet. It is the American Dream in essence, to understand and appreciate ones fortunes, to have the freedom to hope for the best, and to work hard to create that same opportunity for all. But we, as individuals, are not entitled to it. We must work for it, we must maintain it, and we must share it.