A Failure
Yesterday, Ken and I tried to tour Hosanna House, a community center in Wilkinsburg. We went there per Kristin’s suggestion. So far, we have spent lots of time talking to experts on neighborhood revitalization and blight. These experts include CDC members, community building strategists, and gentrifiers. Many of these hard working people know a great deal about what’s happening in Wilkinsburg on the “front streets,” the streets that are the most accessible to visitors from outside the neighborhood or streets that are used as commercial spaces.
However, finding out what’s going on in the neighborhood outside of these areas has proved to be a more difficult task. What are the issues in Wilkinsburg, as residents perceive them? How are these issues being addressed or not addressed, and how can we become involved? Kristin suggested Hosanna House as a fruitful space to visit because information about activities, events, and projects occurring in the “back streets” of the neighborhood is generally advertised and shared there. Perhaps predictability, our first visit to Hosanna House did not go as expected. It didn’t really “go” at all. To enter the building, a membership pin must be entered in a keypad. We could not even get in the building. Therefore, we will need to set up a time to visit next week.
Active Research
Like Ken, I worry that our project does not have enough direction. At the moment, it feels like we are attacking the issue of blight from a variety of angles. These attacks often feel less than strategic, probably because the topic is so huge. We keep doing research, but we also want to start doing something that feels more tangible. Yet, to produce something concrete and physical so quickly requires a great deal of guesswork.
Can we continue our research by making things, physically placing them in the neighborhood, and seeing how people respond? Can iterative prototyping work in this context? Can iterative prototyping be viewed as rapid hypothesis testing, a process that begins blindly but leads us closer and closer to the “right” solution each time we throw the next iteration away? How do we move through this process without negatively impacting anyone, building up an unobtrusive presence in the neighborhood? When we are talking about problems associated with blight in a neighborhood that often seems inaccessible to us, what does participatory design look like? How do we make sure everyone is involved in that design process, not only artists and activists who have recently moved onto the front streets of the neighborhood?
Making Abandoned Buildings Interactive
This weekend, we are using Candy Chang’s portfolio as inspiration. As Robyn mentioned, Chang does a lot of work with abandoned buildings that encourages community members to interact with the structures. These interactions simultaneously bring new value to the buildings and reveal information about the desires, wishes, and needs of community members. Can we find out information about an abandoned building in Wilkinsburg by placing carefully designed stickers on said building? Can these stickers invite responses that help us begin to form a story about the building’s history and the building’s future? For examples, will stickers that leave spaces for responses to the prompts “This building used to be…” and “I wish this building was…” give us useful and inspiring insights about blight? We are going to put up some stickers on Saturday and see what kind of response we get, if any.
Storytelling
As our research has continued, we have begun thinking of storytelling as a design method or tool. For most activists, gentrification is a four-letter word. The five of us ended up working on this project because we wanted to find a way to deal with blight that did not involve gentrification. Only after we began working and Tim asked us “What’s good about gentrification?” did we realize that we had never actually defined or explored the phenomenon. There are positives to gentrification. Gentrification is economic revitalization of a devastated area, a theoretically positive process. Then why does it make us feel icky? During our discussion this week, I think we finally uncovered the element of gentrification that disturbs us, the aspect that we actually want to avoid. Often, when people attempt to revitalize a neighborhood, they forget to ask: “What did you use to be?” This question is incredibly important. A neighborhood that has fallen on hard times does not need to be erased. It does not need to “start over” or be returned to a blank slate. Before that neighborhood declined, it was something else, something that people remember or want to remember. What people are searching for in abandoned, falling down buildings is the secret of what that building used to be and what that building could be again. If we search for future solutions that do not account for the past, those solutions will be soulless. If we incorporate and take inspiration from the past as we design our solutions, those solutions will feel continuous, natural. They will be part of a living history. These are the solutions that people respond to, that community members can gather around.
We have decided to first try an approach that takes these ideas of history and storytelling quite literally. A Pittsburgh blogger named Jonathon Denson has a website called “Discovering Historic Pittsburgh” [http://www.jonathondenson.com/]. On this site, he posts detailed histories of abandoned buildings around the Pittsburgh area, followed by a call for someone to invest in the property. He won an award from the Pittsburgh preservation society for his work, and we are trying to set up a meeting with him to learn about his research methods.
Ultimately, we hope to use this information to write our own building histories for Wilkinsburg properties. We want community members and visitors to tour the neighborhood and interact with these buildings, to learn their histories and become invested in them. Can this personal investment translate into something bigger?
Millage Rates Suck
While we are all feeling inspired and excited about this plan, we also realize that we have another problem to deal with. When property values plummet, property taxes soar. In order to pay for services like trash removal in a neighborhood, the city needs to get that money from somewhere. Therefore, the tax rate on properties will be a higher percentage of the total property value if that property value is low. The millage rates, and thus the property taxes, in Wilkinsburg are very high. This system discourages potential buyers from investing in properties within blighted communities. A restored property in Wilkinsburg will ultimately cost the owner more than a nice property in a neighborhood with higher property values because the expensive house in Wilkinsburg will also still be subject to the higher tax rates. Once we get residents and visitors emotionally invested in abandoned houses in the area, what happens next? Who actually has money to invest in these buildings? How do we work around this policy issue? How might “storytelling” help us here? Definitely applying for tax abatement is one way to deal with the issue. Can we make the application process easier for people? Can we translate documents and requirements from legalese to natural language?










