The 2010 Census was unkind to the Rust Belt. Buffalo, Cleveland, Flint, and Youngstown all posted double digit percentile declines in population, falling back to levels last seen a century ago. Detroit lost a full quarter of its population. Yet, if Detroit Free Press reporter John Gallagher is right, there is still cause for hope. In his timely and optimistic book, “Reimagining Detroit: Opportunities for Redefining an American City,” Gallagher argues that although shrinking cities like Detroit face severe challenges, they also possess the space and opportunity to become greener and more livable, even if they continue to shrink.
The first step toward revitalization, Gallagher writes, is adjusting expectations. At its peak, Detroit was the fourth largest city in the United States. Its massive factories were booming and its streets were lined with shops and people. Although segregated and polluted, Detroit enjoyed immense prosperity, and many people still judge the city today against this high water mark. To make any progress, Gallagher insists, Detroit has to stop looking backward and work with the city as it is now: a deeply troubled, depopulated place that urgently needs to rescale itself.
For inspiration, Gallagher turns to a host of other cities that have pioneered ways to make use of empty space and retrofit obsolete infrastructure. In Portland and San Francisco, unneeded highways have been removed from the city center, enabling neighborhoods to reconnect to the waterfront. In Seoul, London, and Zurich, streams that were once buried in the sewer system have been brought back to the surface, improving the environment while creating new parks and development alongside the water. In Havana, an impressive network of urban farms, first created amidst the severe food shortages of the “Special Period,” are now providing most of Havana’s fruits and vegetables. In Chicago, major public arts projects, like the oft-photographed “Cloud Gate” sculpture in Millennium Park, have attracted tourists and catalyzed development downtown.
Many of Gallagher’s best suggestions are simpler interventions at the neighborhood level. To beautify the weed-choked vacant lots that dot the city, Gallagher recommends the model used by Philadelphia Green: reseed the lots with grass or ground cover, plant trees, and install picket fences. To rescale Detroit’s huge arterial streets, built eight lanes wide but now carrying little traffic, Gallagher recommends widening the sidewalks and reserving lanes for bicycles and buses. These are affordable improvements that, added together, could make a dramatic difference in the look and feel of a neighborhood.
Some of Gallagher’s ideas for Rust Belt reinvention come from Detroit itself. One of these is urban gardening, which has taken off dramatically in the past decade. Since 2000, more than 800 gardens have registered with the Detroit Agricultural Network, and several large-scale farming operations are currently seeking city approval. Gallagher sees great promise in this trend. At the community level, the benefits are undeniable: gardens beautify empty land, bring neighbors together in a common pursuit, and produce fresh, healthy food—often a scarce commodity in the inner city.
Whether urban farming can turn a profit is another question. Gallagher is a skeptic. He notes that Detroit’s best-known farms are actually quite small; if operated strictly for profit, they would only provide a subsistence living. To operate more profitably, urban farms would need larger parcels of uncontaminated land, a resource that is still easier to find on the outskirts of town than in the heart of the city. For that reason alone, Gallagher doubts Detroit’s local food economy will ever reach the scale of Havana.
For better or worse, Detroit is also on the leading edge of another trend: the shift from public to private governance. Nearly all of Detroit’s signature institutions now rely heavily on corporations and foundations for support. The Detroit Institute of Arts, Campus Martius Park, and Eastern Market are all run by conservancies; Toni Griffin, the lead planner of the Detroit Works Project (Mayor Dave Bing’s signature planning initiative), and Robert Bobb, the former Emergency Financial Manager of Detroit Public Schools, were both compensated by national foundations; and the first leg of the proposed Woodward light rail line will be funded by a handful of philanthropists. A similar trend plays out at the neighborhood level, where parks and community centers depend on the labor of volunteers for the most basic maintenance, from mowing the grass to picking up trash. Several historic neighborhoods, like Indian Village and Palmer Woods, even hire private patrols to supplement the beleaguered city police force.
Gallagher applauds this reliance on public-private partnership as a model of fiscal responsibility, and other cash-strapped cities will likely follow Detroit’s lead. It is a dubious precedent though. On the one hand, it is true that many of Detroit’s greatest gains, like the revitalization of its riverfront, would not have been possible without private support. Urban farming, the most talked about trend in the city, is technically not even legal; it has spread in defiance of city codes through grassroots effort. But Detroit is not a do-it-yourself paradise. Volunteers do tremendous work in the city, but they cannot keep every park open nor keep every street clean. Furthermore, while they are free to paint a mural or build a new playscape at the neighborhood school, they are powerless to keep that school open if the state-appointed Emergency Financial Manager decides to close it. Likewise, while foundations and conservancies have restored some of Detroit’s best institutions, they cannot be everywhere at once, and each time they step in, the public forfeits some control. Public-private partnership may be necessary, but only as a complement to a robust, functioning government, not as a replacement.
With that important caveat, “Reimagining Detroit” is an excellent and inspiring book. In clear, open language, Gallagher lays out an agenda for Rust Belt revitalization that is creative, audacious, and (one hopes) achievable. Although he writes with Detroit in mind, his central thesis—that “a smaller city creates the canvas to become a better city”—should give heart to any city in the grip of Census-inspired despair. The challenges are still formidable, but Gallagher makes it crystal clear that shrinking cities have a wealth of options to reinvent themselves as something new.
First published at the great regional blog Rust Wire, which I highly recommend.
7:50 pm – You can read the text of the speech here. Nothing too memorable, I’m afraid. I liked most of what he said, but it was all boilerplate. No new proposals to speak of, and while he took on critics that claim DWSD is being suburbanized with gusto, I thought he sidestepped the widespread and serious questions that have arisen over the Detroit Works Project, his administration’s signature policy.
7:44 pm – Notably absent from the speech: Detroit Public Schools. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan recently called for the mayor to take over the sinking school system, but there’s no indication Bing wants the job. He didn’t say a word on the subject tonight.
7:41 pm – And the headlines are in. Detroit News: “Bing: Federal oversight of police nearing end.” Detroit Free Press: “Detroit Mayor Dave Bing unveils plans to cut crime, help neighborhoods, unite region.”
7:33 pm – Abrupt ending: “It’s time to ask, ‘What will your contribution be?’”
7:30 pm – Bing touts light rail as economic development. No mention of transit issues. What about the direly underfunded DDOT? Or the regional transit authority we’ll need to fund ongoing operations and expansion? Someone let Bing know that all successful cities need great transit systems.
7:25 pm – Nearly 1 in 5 Detroiters are unemployed. Bing’s claims of an economic turnaround ring hollow. I’m thrilled that Quicken moved downtown and the DMC is expanding, but overall Detroit is still bleeding jobs to the suburbs and elsewhere.
7:20 pm – Deficit down to $150 million. Submitting plan in March to eliminate the rest. But he calls out Snyder, who’s in the audience: “The [state] budget presented has potentially devastating consequences for the City of Detroit.”
7:18 pm – Bing says his water system deal is not a move toward regional ownership. Calls out critics for rehashing “old arguments,” and says, “Your time is over.” Camera pans to Joann Watson, perhaps Bing’s most vocal critic on City Council. The Michigan Citizen, which claims Bing “caved” on the water deal, must be fuming.
7:13 pm – Bing: “We’re working on a plan … Is it ready today? No.” We’ll see the first draft in April.
7:05 pm – The long federal oversight of the Detroit Police Department may soon be over: “We will be in full compliance by the end of this year.” Finally. Only took seven years!
7:04 pm – “We are a work in progress.” Warms the heart.
7:00 pm – I guess we’re not over the Chrysler ad. Dave Bing walks on stage to “Imported from Detroit.”
6:40 pm – According to the News, tonight’s themes will be delivering city services more efficiently, the importance of the Detroit Works Project, stabilizing the city’s finances, and economic development. In other words, Bing’s going to talk about everything he’s been criticized for failing to do so far.
Detroit gets a lot of bad press, and 2010 was no exception. Stories of Detroit’s corruption, crime, and civic collapse regularly made national news, and locals loved to grouse about it. But in many ways last year was also a turning point for coverage of Detroit. Looking back, what’s remarkable is not the number of negative stories–most of which, frankly, were deserved. What’s remarkable is how much positive press we received at the same time.
The New York Times alone published ten articles heralding Detroit’s revitalization, including three on the vibrant arts scene, three on new businesses and entrepreneurs, and one on urban farming. Entrepreneur Magazine and CBS News both said Detroit was a great place to start a business, and the Huffington Post gave shout outs to restaurateurs Torya Blanchard and Phil Cooley. The Guardian, C.S. Monitor, and Grist all named Detroit the focal point of the urban gardening movement. The Guardian also praised our cultural scene, as did The Star. Toronto’s Globe and Mail told people to visit, Patti Smith told artists to move here, and Palladium Boots co-opted our cool for a half-hour documentary / infomercial that hyped our creative scene.
Clearly, a new meme has taken hold. In the new telling, Detroit is seen as a do-it-yourself city for the young and creative. Philip Lauri, the creative mind behind the Detroit Lives! project, is one of the most enthusiastic champions of this viewpoint. He captured the spirit of it in an interview with the Metro Times: “This town isn’t for everybody … [but] if you’ve got the right combination of vision, ambition, and self-start drive you can sail to the moon in this town. If you’ve got a voice, it will be heard and if you’ve got an idea and the wherewithal to see it through, it can materialize. You can do anything from Detroit.”
It’s an affirmative, empowering take on Detroit’s dire situation and one that I largely endorse. Detroit’s young do-gooders aren’t looking for one quick fix to what ails the city; they’re focused on gradual, incremental change. Nor are they beholden to the development models of the past. Gone is the expectation that a new factory or major development will transform the city overnight. The emphasis is on creativity, innovation, and entrepreneurship. Let a thousand urban gardens and small businesses bloom. And in rhetoric if not always in fact, there is a professed desire to work with and build existing communities rather than replace or displace them.
That last desire–to respect the residents who are already here–may prove the hardest to honor. Despite the idealistic intentions of these young leaders, many Detroiters warily regard their efforts as the first symptom of gentrification, sensing that today’s idealists will inevitably yield to tomorrow’s indifferent yuppies. And while longtime Detroiters may welcome the investment and the energy of the D.I.Y. class, they don’t necessarily share the same values. Newcomers talk excitedly of density, bike lanes, and public art. They are mostly college-educated and seek the glamour of city life. Elsewhere in Detroit the needs are more urgent and basic. Residents want the cops to answer when called; for the street lights to turn on at night; for the parks to be safe and clean. They want local jobs and functional schools. In so much as these priorities are seen to be in competition, there will be conflict.
And in Detroit there is always the question of race. Regardless the merits of new investment, is it fair for a batch of newcomers, many of whom are white and suburban born, to garner so much attention when the efforts of so many African Americans before them went unrewarded? (Many think not.) What kind of city will Detroit become if new residents start arriving in larger numbers? Detroit is a place where residents take pride in how many decades they’ve lived on the same block. They can tell you when the color line broke in their neighborhood. Will Detroit be the same city culturally if the black middle class continues to flee and most newcomers are white or Latino? These are some of the stickier questions being raised about Detroit’s future, and Detroit’s young boosters will have to confront them, even as they rightly celebrate the momentum behind the city’s revitalization.
The video above is of a conversation held by the CAID late last year on “Art, Race, and The Image of the City.” It’s an excellent opening salvo in a dialogue that in many ways is just beginning.
Rightsizing has been a buzzword in Detroit for at least a year and a half, but for all the talk so far, there’s been little focus on the actual neighborhoods of Detroit. Instead we keep hearing about the same mythical block. You know, the block that only has a single house left standing. The block the city can no longer afford to service. The block whose last resident refuses to move, so help her god.
We’ve allowed this one abstract example, grounded in no particular place, to drive the discussion, prompting supporters to call for relocation incentives and opponents to preemptively decry the return of urban renewal. But city blocks don’t exist in isolation–they exist in neighborhoods–and context makes a big difference. To get a real feel for how “rightsizing” ought to work (if it’s going to work at all) we need to look at specific neighborhoods that are overrun with open space — places like North Corktown, an actual neighborhood unique to Detroit that is putting its excess land to creative reuse.
On the surface, North Corktown seems like any other struggling area of Detroit. The western half of the neighborhood has lost so many residents that there are more open fields than houses. But increasingly, the overgrown grass is giving way to crops. Community gardening is less a trend here than a way of life. Urban farms dot the landscape. Brother Nature Produce and Detroit Evolution are both based here. So too is the great blog Little House on the Urban Prairie, which documents country living in the city.
On the east side of the neighborhood, a small town feel has been restored through infill housing and pocket parks. The residents there are active, organizing neighborhood patrols, fixing up abandoned property, and installing public art on empty lots. And city life is never further than a bike ride away. On Trumbull Street, the eastern boundary of the neighborhood, you can visit a Teamsters union hall, gamble at Motor City Casino, or gaze at the downtown skyline, which is only a mile away. The usual distinctions between city, town, and country have blurred together into one eclectic landscape.
To be sure, the neighborhood is not a utopia. It still struggles with the familiar banes of Detroit living, including foreclosed homes, illegally dumped trash, and unmanageably tall grass at the peak of summer. But it has begun to tame its open spaces in a way that other neighborhoods in Detroit have failed to do. Furthermore, it has done so without displacing any residents, and without significant spending from the city. While North Corktown would no doubt welcome more investment, it has managed to gradually improve the quality of life through the cumulative impact of small projects and grassroots efforts, not the kind of major corporate or government-backed initiatives that would sweep existing buildings and residents aside to make way for new development.
That’s why North Corktown should be at the forefront of the “rightsizing” discussion. While relocation incentives might be the last resort for areas of Detroit that are both heavily abandoned and contaminated, they shouldn’t be the only option on the table. Instead we need to figure out how to work with what we have. Every Detroit neighborhood, no matter how devastated it may seem, has assets to manage. Brightmoor has the Rouge River, Eliza Howell Park, at least one enclave of strong housing, and dedicated community organizations. Jefferson-Chalmers has historic commercial buildings on Jefferson, proximity to shopping in the Grosse Pointes, and access to the Detroit River. These neighborhoods, too, can gradually find a way to recover, not by waiting for major developments that will never come but by limiting crime and reclaiming their open spaces.
The key is that “rightsizing” need not connote one particular strategy. The word has been hijacked by the conspiratorially minded to connote downsizing, shrinking, or urban renewal. But what it should mean is community-based and community-driven reinvention, a la John Gallagher’s new book, Reimagining Detroit. Hopefully, this will be a focus of the next round of Detroit Works Project meetings: crafting sensible, affordable plans that will revitalize neighborhoods based on their specific needs and assets without displacing the few residents who have toughed it out over the years.
P.S. If you’re from North Corktown, I’d love to hear your perspective. Am I on to something or off base? Comment below or send me an email at cooper [at] rethinkdetroit [dot] org. If you’re not from North Corktown but want to learn more, start with the Corktown’s Residents Council and Inchernet, a new “living map” of the neighborhood. Also check out Soup at Spaulding for a taste of the activism going on. There’s also an ethnography, published in 1999, that touches on the racial history of the area.
On Tuesday the Detroit Works Project kicked off with a mass meeting at Greater Grace Temple on the far west side. Nearly a thousand Detroiters answered the mayor’s call, filling every seat and lining every wall of a huge room at the church. The energy in the crowd was palpable as the mayor’s deputies took to the podium, but the promise of the first few minutes soon gave way to confusion and frustration. Expecting a presentation, the crowd was instead told to break into smaller groups to brainstorm the city’s future. The unexpected (and unfocused) format led to discord, with angry voices calling out, “This is not what we came for!”
The breakout groups were overcrowded and loud. The facilitators struggled to keep order, and not every room had a microphone, forcing some residents to shout to be heard. In my group, the facilitator, a community liaison from the Skillman Foundation, asked the audience to envision what the city would look like in 20 years. Most of those called upon ignored the prompt and focused on their current frustrations, airing grievances, asking pointed questions, and demanding action from the city now. Only after Mayor Bing addressed our group in person did the session take a more productive turn, with residents volunteering suggestions from rehabbing abandoned buildings to giving neighborhoods access to broadband. Just as the conversation got going, however, the evening came to an end.
It was an inauspicious start for a process expected to last 18 months and result in the reshaping of the city. The format was off-putting, the facilitators were unprepared for the size of the crowd, and residents’ incoming concerns about the process itself were not addressed from the get-go. That created space for the mayor’s doubters and outright opponents to seize the floor and take control of the discussion.
If Mayor Bing hopes to salvage these meetings, he will need to address the full audience at the beginning, not the end, and directly address the fears and concerns that have arisen on the question of shrinking, downsizing, or rightsizing the city. While they weren’t the loudest voices, many in the large and diverse crowd seemed open to long term reform, but they wanted to understand what the options were and whether they could trust the mayor to respect the community’s concerns. Bing needs to speak directly to these residents and win their trust and participation. If he can marshal their support and solicit their ideas, the Detroit Works Project might actually live up to some of its ambitions.
When people think of Metro Detroit, the images that come to mind are of urban decay on the one hand and sprawl on the other. But the makings of a great city–one with walkable neighborhoods and lively streets–are hidden here in plain sight. From the skyscrapers of downtown Detroit to the busy main streets of suburbs like Ferndale and Royal Oak, the building blocks are in place for a truly regional “city” that transcends conventional boundaries.
For more than a decade now, urban life has been making a comeback in Metro Detroit. You can see it along the Riverwalk downtown. You can see it on Vernor Avenue. You can see it on Cass. You can see it on Nine Mile in Ferndale and Main Street in Royal Oak. People are out walking the streets, eating in sidewalk cafes, shopping, and going to work. They’re moving into lofts and riding their bikes more, enjoying these pockets of urban renaissance.
Unfortunately, these pockets have remained just that–isolated pockets that don’t add up to a greater whole. But with the addition of rapid transit, we could go from a simulacrum of urban life to the real thing, creating several corridors of urban development that bridge the city/suburban divide and make urban living a safe, attractive, and affordable option for all those who desire it.
While several corridors have tremendous potential–Michigan Avenue out to Dearborn and Jefferson Avenue out to the Pointes both come to mind–the most promising is the Woodward Corridor from downtown to Birmingham. Rapid transit down the length of Woodward would connect a long line of historic, walkable neighborhoods together, from Boston Edison to Berkley. It would also connect major hospitals, several dozen cultural institutions, and hundreds of thousands of people. While the corridor wouldn’t become “urban” overnight, it would immediately boost the areas that are already urbanizing, like Midtown and downtown Ferndale, and create the opportunity for other communities to pursue similar redevelopment.
If fully realized, an urbanized Woodward corridor could realign our region in several fundamental ways. First, it could make living without a car an attractive option again. Since the 1950s, when the streetcars stopped running, it has been difficult to find work, get to school, or grocery shop without a car. But if transit were rapid and efficient on Woodward (with ample bus connections to nearby communities), you could easily, say, live in Ferndale, take classes at Wayne, and work at Beaumont. Or live in Boston Edison, work in an office downtown, and go out for the night in Royal Oak. All without ever using a car.
Second, it will make tourists easier to attract. If you visit our tourism website today, you’ll see how hard it struggles to define the region, drawing as much attention to “North Oakland” and “Macomb” as Downtown Detroit. The Woodward Corridor will be far easier to market to out of town visitors because it will span city and suburb and connect most of our major attractions together. Visitors could walk the riverfront, take an architecture tour downtown, see museums in Midtown, spend an afternoon at the Detroit Zoo, and go out to eat in Ferndale, Royal Oak, or Birmingham — all without worrying about parking or directions.
Third, it will create a meaningful and lasting linkage between Detroit and its suburbs that will help foster regional planning and development. Beginning with a regional transit authority, rapid transit on Woodward could be the catalyst Metro Detroit needs to start thinking and acting like a region. A continuous stretch of urban development from Detroit to its suburbs could help disabuse people of the notion that the suburbs can survive without the city or vice versa. We’re one region, and we rise or sink together. Woodward could be the focal point that makes that argument obvious and fosters regional pride.
Obviously, none of this is preordained. It’s not assured yet that Metro Detroit will even build a regional rail system, and if it does build one, whether it will be fast and effective enough to spark development. Nor is it clear how receptive the different communities along the path will be to a more concerted effort at urbanization. Lingering racial and political fears, too, could prevent the kind of cooperation needed to spark corridor-wide redevelopment. But this is the best case scenario we should be striving for–a world class “city” in Metro Detroit spanning both Detroit proper and its suburbs, starting with Woodward Avenue and spreading to the other spokes in years to come.
The mayor of Portland has defined a good urban neighborhood as one where everything you need for daily life is within a 20-minute walk or bike ride of home. You can get to your job, drop your kids off at school, pick up groceries, and go out for the night without going more than a couple transit stops away.
Most Metro Detroit neighborhoods fail this standard. We have dozens of suburbs where daily life can be conducted within a 20-minute drive of home, but we have very few neighborhoods that are walkable and well served by transit. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t in the future. We have many semi-walkable neighborhoods — both in Detroit and the inner ring suburbs — that could, if residents and political leaders so desired, be redeveloped more densely to provide the amenities they currently lack.
Most promisingly, there is greater downtown, including Corktown, Midtown, Eastern Market, and Lafayette Park. These historic neighborhoods have been redeveloping for more than a decade but thus far remain incomplete. If you’re near Wayne State, for example, it’s easy to get a drink with friends, but you may be at a loss if you need, say, a pair of socks, or new kitchen supplies. With the introduction of light rail and the continued influx of people, many of these gaps will be filled in coming years.
Then there are Metro Detroit’s unglamorous, but authentically urban, immigrant enclaves. Vernor Avenue in Southwest Detroit is lined with all kinds of stores: bakeries, movie rentals, banks, auto repair. Ditto Joseph Campau, Conant, and Caniff in Hamtramck. If you need something, you can probably find it here in a small, ramshackle shop. While these areas are often starved for tax revenue, they are and will be an essential part of Metro Detroit’s urban future.
Less intuitively, there are former streetcar suburbs, like Ferndale, Royal Oak, and Birmingham. While these small suburbs are full of tidy single-family homes, they are anchored by growing downtowns that could grow outward and upward. Today their main streets are dominated by restaurants and boutiques, but with the addition of more (affordable) apartment buildings, offices, and basic stores, these could become fully functioning, mid-scale urban neighborhoods within larger suburban towns.
In fact, many experts predict most new walkable retrofits will be built in the suburbs, even in such anti-urban places as Southfield and Troy. In the video above, planner Ellen Dunham-Jones shows how dead malls are being repurposed as walkable communities and how auto-oriented streets are being remade to accommodate people in addition to cars. The results tend toward the generic, but these models offer a plausible path forward for aging suburban communities that have no downtown to speak of and wish to spark reinvestment.
Of course, saying Metro Detroit could have a thriving network of urban neighborhoods one day isn’t the same as making it happen. The process will no doubt be contentious and take years of individual and collective effort to change zoning laws and change minds. (See the years-long struggle in Ann Arbor to add density to 5th Street for a taste.) But I think it helps to start with a vision of where we could go as a region, if only we had the will.
Great cities have great neighborhoods. But not only has Metro Detroit long neglected its most walkable, urban neighborhoods, it has actively undermined them through sprawl.
Despite the fact that population growth has been flat for forty years (there are fewer people in Metro Detroit today than there were in 1970), we’ve kept building new subdivisions. Metro Detroit is now 50% larger than it was in 1970. Think of the madness of that. Despite the fact we could all comfortably live in a fraction of that space — in suburban, single-family homes no less — we’ve kept pushing ever outward, leaving behind the communities at the region’s center.
These are the communities with the greatest potential for urbanism. Places likes Detroit, Dearborn, Hamtramck, and Ferndale. While generally car dependent today, they are centered around small downtowns and have walkable street grids. With the right reinvestment, these communities could create an urban alternative for Metro Detroit — an area where more people live in apartment buildings and condos than single-family homes, an area where it’s easy to walk to the store or bike to work.
But the sprawl of the region actively undermines this future. The problem is not suburban living per se — even Detroit proper is dominated by single family homes. The problem is that suburbia is so dominant and so overbuilt. For forty years, there have been more homes than households in Metro Detroit. So every time a new subdivision is built — and new ones are built all the time — older blocks of homes in less desirable areas lose value. They can’t compete with the lower taxes and bigger homes of the exurbs, and developers aren’t interested in reinvestment because it’s cheaper to build new. So these older blocks end up blighted or even abandoned.
Historically, most of the damage has been in Detroit. The Detroit Parcel Survey found that a third of all residential land in Detroit is now vacant — a figure that never ceases to astonish. But the blight is also visible in the ‘burbs. Older suburbs like Hazel Park and the southern end of Warren have long struggled to maintain their retail and commercial corridors. Dying malls and empty factories are becoming common sights. Post-housing bubble, they are struggling to keep houses occupied, too.
For the cycle to ever end, and for urban redevelopment to have a fighting chance, we need to curb regional sprawl. It’s the necessary counterpart to “rightsizing.” Consolidation of the urban core must be matched by growth controls at the edge. If it’s not — if we simultaneously build our urban corridors up and our suburban edge outward without population growth — we’ll only further squeeze the areas in the middle, letting more historic communities slip into needless decline. And the damage will increasingly be felt not in Detroit but in the older suburbs that most closely surround it.
When friends come back from trips to Chicago, they often lament that Detroit is not a “real city.” As quick as I am to protest — we have great parks, renowned museums, incredible architecture, huge festivals, immigrant enclaves, and more, don’t we? — I know exactly what they mean. Detroit may have all the components of a major city, but it lacks the connective tissue, the urban fabric, to tie it all together. Even Detroit’s most hyped urban neighborhoods are pockmarked with empty buildings, and the region’s growing suburban downtowns lack real diversity and remain isolated from each other.
In the next few posts, I’d like to explore what it would take to create a cohesive urban corridor in Metro Detroit out of the hodge podge of development we have today. Doing so, I think, will involve at least three major steps. I’ll explore each of these in turn in the next few weeks:
- Stop the sprawl. Metro Detroit’s population hasn’t risen in forty years, yet we keep subsidizing sprawl. It’s time to focus on redeveloping the city and retrofitting existing suburbs instead.
- Complete urban neighborhoods. Metro Detroit has the building blocks for urbanism, from Midtown to Hamtramck to suburban Main Streets like 9 Mile in Ferndale. We just need to develop them.
- Link them together with rapid transit. Starting with Woodward, rapid transit could bind Metro Detroit’s many hubs of urban activity together, forming a single urban corridor to anchor the region.
My hope is that this series of posts will spark a broader discussion about the future of Detroit. For too long, we’ve elected politicians without vision for the region. It’s time to start thinking seriously about what Detroit could become and what we need to do to get it there.
Cityfest, Detroit’s best summer festival, is no more. After a great 20-year run, the New Center Council, the organizers of the festival, have decided to focus instead on redeveloping New Center Park. Just as the award-winning Campus Martius has brought new life to downtown, organizers hope the renovated park will serve as a year-round anchor for the neighborhood. The park, which has capacity for 700, will host free movies and concerts Wednesday through Saturday all summer long.
As disappointed as I am to see Cityfest shut down, I can’t totally begrudge their decision. The New Center Council is an economic development agency, not a cultural organization. The motivation for producing Cityfest was to draw attention to the New Center and build the area’s image. In that regard, the event was a great success. Who didn’t gawk at the majesty of the Fisher Building while standing in line for ribs? But a four-day party doesn’t make a neighborhood. A great urban park can.
I’m certainly still rooting for Cityfest to make a comeback. Summertime in Detroit won’t be the same without it, especially with Festival of the Arts having met its end as well. But if the choice is between a great, four-day party and a round-the-clock neighborhood, I know which one I favor.