city life
for my class Christianities in the City (great in theory, mediocre in practice), we talked a bit at the beginning of the class about appreciating the uniqueness and idiosyncrasies of the city, which we revisited again yesterday. We had ten themes as a framework, and the one that grabbed me most, particularly coming out of Providence where this is such an interesting question, was "the persistence of history." I love/hate/am fascinated by the diversity of time periods represented by Providence's built environment -- there's the old houses of Benefit st, the empty factories of the west side and Olneyville, the mall and the riverwalk, all right within steps of one another. Industrialization came and left, and development came so fast and furious that pieces of our city have been discarded in the shuffle. And by discarded I mean by the developers, the property owners, the ones with money. Artist housing and the subsequent gentrification are a whole separate issue.
Anyway, I wanted to share my reflection on "the persistence of history" from class yesterday. I kind of like it.
there is constant change and newness -- old folks out, new folks in (but there are those who stay) -- and those new folks inherit the physical environment of the old. There is a mosaic on one subway wall about the history of Harlem. I was not here for that history, nor when the mosaic was created (and the artist remembered, whether she was here or not), but I am here now, and appreciate the beauty of the mosaic on one level, and the beauty of history on another.
the levels of memory are legion, and constantly changing. folks come, they move, they leave their marks, they go. then I come and inherit a city crafted & recrafted & remade by its residents, and I leave my own mark and the cycle continues. the spirit of the city lives on, and continues to be shaped by its residents.
Gentrification now threatens to wipe out generations of voices, and I don't know what we can do to stop it.
can I do anything?
is this my city, that I have the right?
is this not my city?
isn't that the beauty of it, that it is home to so many?
Anyway, I wanted to share my reflection on "the persistence of history" from class yesterday. I kind of like it.
there is constant change and newness -- old folks out, new folks in (but there are those who stay) -- and those new folks inherit the physical environment of the old. There is a mosaic on one subway wall about the history of Harlem. I was not here for that history, nor when the mosaic was created (and the artist remembered, whether she was here or not), but I am here now, and appreciate the beauty of the mosaic on one level, and the beauty of history on another.
the levels of memory are legion, and constantly changing. folks come, they move, they leave their marks, they go. then I come and inherit a city crafted & recrafted & remade by its residents, and I leave my own mark and the cycle continues. the spirit of the city lives on, and continues to be shaped by its residents.
Gentrification now threatens to wipe out generations of voices, and I don't know what we can do to stop it.
can I do anything?
is this my city, that I have the right?
is this not my city?
isn't that the beauty of it, that it is home to so many?