Exit, Voice, Loyalty
By Lester Kenyatta Spence, AOL BlackVoices columnist
Another one of my boys decided to move out of Detroit for the suburbs. He's long (well, not exactly long; we aren't that old) been one of the city's best boosters but he's decided to pack up his family and jet. He still works in the city. And inasmuch as he runs one of the most innovative educational nonprofits in Detroit, he still works for the city.
Unfortunately, he's not alone in his decision to leave the city he loves. Many of us are heading toward the suburbs in search of more space, better schools, less crime and grass. The impact of this exodus has yet to be critically examined, at least partially, because it is ongoing but I think we are further dividing the black community.
Historically, as black people began to take over cities like Detroit, Gary, Ind., and Washington, D.C., we didn't have much choice about where we lived. The suburbs that sprouted up like weeds were often segregated. It didn't matter how much loot you had, if you had black skin, you were out of luck. But that's not the only reason black people clung to city life -– there was hope attached to new black mayors like Coleman Young, Richard Hatcher and Marion Barry. The increase in the black population meant brothers and sisters could finally elect someone who looked like them. So even when they could leave, many didn't because they wanted to work for black power.
At the same time that blacks finally took over the political apparatus of many of our largest cities, the combined exodus of middle-class and wealthy white citizens and corporate America meant the tax base used to fund public schools and urban infrastructure was cut severely. This meant that political officials had to make tough and painful choices. Do we fund parks and recreation or do we fund garbage pickup? Do we fund the police department or do we fund health clinics?
Politicians often turned toward downtown development to deal with the money problems. They looked toward casinos, office buildings and sports stadiums to get (white) folks to spend money downtown. That money would then trickle down to black neighborhoods and black schools, which would then lead to more white people moving in rather than out.
In cities like Washington, D.C., this strategy has been moderately successful. They have been able to either stem the flight or significantly reduce it, but with a catch. The whites that move in are largely single or married without kids. As soon as they have kids, they leave again, just like many black families are doing now.
Which brings me right back to my friend. While he loves Detroit, he wants a quality of life for his children he just cannot get there. He and his wife did not want to continue to pay an exorbitant mortgage and private school tuition. He is tired of dealing with the significant decline in city services. Finally his wife was tired of making the long commute from her job (which is in the suburbs) and home. He and his wife both love black people and would gladly die for them -- they just don't want to have to sacrifice their kids.
People like my friend have three choices. They can leave. They can exert their voice and work hard to try to change and improve the cities they love. Or they can remain steadfast and stick it out, waiting out the storm like Teacake and Janie tried to do in 'Their Eyes Were Watching God.'
Exit. Voice. Loyalty.
My boy chose the exit option. And rather than the exception, he is swiftly becoming the rule.
In response what do we hear from urban officials? More casinos, more downtown development and more sports stadiums.
I can't front -- I like the idea of being able to go see Super Bowl XL in downtown Detroit. But while bringing the Super Bowl to Detroit might get city politicians reelected, it doesn't deal with the problem or with solutions.
Similarly, I watched most of the State of the Black Union event put on by Tavis Smiley and I didn't hear a single "black leader" address this issue. I barely believe in the idea of a single "black community" or a single "black agenda" as it is but what we are watching now is the very concept crumbling before our eyes. How can we even act like we've got a single agenda when black professionals don't have any significant contact with black working-class and poor citizens?
If we have an honest conversation about what 21st century cities are supposed to look like, perhaps we can begin to stem the tide. However, given the gist of the conversations black elected officials and "black leaders" have been having, I don't expect that particular conversation to start anytime soon. But I do expect the exodus to continue.
Lester K. Spence is a 2004 Kellogg Scholar in Health Disparities and will be spending the next two years in residence at Morgan State University while on leave from Washington University in Saint Louis. He blogs at visioncircle.org.
March 15, 2005