Renaissance

‘Detroit Isn’t a Blank Slate,’ Activist Tells ‘West Corktown’ Newcomers

March 22, 2016, 11:56 AM by  Alan Stamm

Cornetta Lane and Todd Ridley are Detroiters who envision better things ahead for a neighborhood west of downtown.

They disagree -- "respectfully," Ridley says in an online discussion -- about its rebranding as West Corktown.

Their polite, but pointed, exchange of views plays out under a post at Medium by Lane, whose provocative headline seems crafted to provoke pushback: "How I Stopped Gentrification in My Neighborhood."

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Act I of the current saga dates back to June 2014, That's when Lane, a community activist who grew up in that area around Michigan Avenue and still lives there, read at Model D that Lynne and Mike Savino had converted a stately former bank at 23rd Street and Michigan Avenue into their loft-style home. The six-paragraph post by MJ Galbraith says:   

They're calling the area West Corktown, "a neighborhood within a neighborhood," and they're thinking that as Corktown's storefronts continue to fill up and become unavailable, the stretch of Michigan Avenue between I-75 and W. Grand Boulevard is the next logical place for development. . . .

"There are nice buildings here. This red building next door is a great building. There's a lot of small buildings that individuals could purchase for a reasonable amount of money, fix them up," says Lynne. "Corktown is getting packed and expensive. This really is just the next natural direction, hopefully, for things to go."

Savino is sales director for Our/Detroit, a two-year-old vodka distillery on Bagley Street in Southwest Detroit. She and her husband had lived in the Green Acres neighborhood between Livernois and Woodward, just south of 8 Mile Road.


Cornetta Lane: "'Blank slate' thinking drives further disconnection." (Facebook photos)

Fast-forward to Lane's recent 540-word essay at Medium, which describes the Wayne State graduate's distaste for "West Corktown" and her efforts to raise awareness of the area's original name:

A married couple went on a quest to find a new place to live in Detroit. They stumbled upon a seemingly uninhabited neighborhood. . . .

The vision for this area was to replicate the success of Corktown, an adjacent neighborhood, by transforming empty storefronts into profitable businesses. The couple purchased a 2,200-square-feet unoccupied bank on Michigan Avenue and converted it into an luxurious living space.

Eventually, they gave the new neighborhood a name, "West Corktown."

Super cool, right? Except families that have lived in the area for generations call it “Core City.” A place where underground canals supply water to beautiful weeping willows. A place where neighbors help each other with small home improvements. A place where I first learned to ride my bike without training wheels.

To call it by another name is to disregard the historical and cultural identity of a place. And in a city like Detroit, where lifelong residents feel disenfranchised and newcomers feel unwelcome, “blank slate” thinking drives further disconnection between the two.

'Resiliency and commitment'

Lane, 29, received a Challenge Detroit fellowship in 2012 and last year was an Emerging City Champion as part of a Knight Foundation program for civic innovators. She describes work to raise the neighborhood's visibility and reinforce its identity:

I launched Core City Stories — a bike tour that included stops where Core City residents use their front porch as a stage to tell their story.

Riding from porch to porch, the bikers authentically experienced Core City’s landscape. And, through their stories, my neighbors powerfully displayed their resiliency and commitment to the neighborhood. As I watched a genuine heart-to-heart exchange between listener and teller, I remembered why I organized the tour in the first place.

I finally had a face-to-face conversation with the couple.

They apologized and said, “It was a joke. We found ourselves constantly telling friends that we were moving west of Corktown. And at a party after a few drinks, we told them that we lived in West Corktown.”

It was completely harmless, right? But, when a joke leads to the development of a website, a Facebook following of over 1,200 [nearly 1,400 now] and a seat at the table with the Mayor of Detroit about redevelopment in the neighborhood  —  that’s power. Power that Core City never thought they had access to.


Todd Ridley: "My God, get a grip."

Last Sunday, Lane and others hosted a two-hour Core City Stories presentation and photo exhibit at Repair the World, a community volunteer center on Bagley. Eighteen of the roughly 50 attendees said they hadn't previously heard the term Core City.

A frank exhange of views

Earlier last week, Todd Ridley posted two responses under Lane's "I Stopped Gentrification" piece. He's a 42-year-old creative and marketing executive who has lived in the city for a quarter-century.

Here is most of the Detroiters' public dialog:

► RidleyAs with any point of view, there is another one here. My husband and I are best friends with the couple you mention. . . .

They didn’t buy the building thinking they would rebrand the neighborhood. They wanted someplace different to live, and had the vision to buy this building and make it something unique.

The wife and I created the logo “West Corktown” and made a few shirts because they always had a hard time telling people visiting exactly where they lived. And yes, it was tongue-in-cheek. We created a website and a Facebook page.

It was funny, lighthearted and got some attention. ZERO plans to do anything more than get some attention for the neighborhood. . . .

I find your article to be extremely short-sided and opportunistic, even self-aggrandizing. You saved your neighborhood from gentrification? Really?

Let’s get some clarity here. You didn’t stop gentrification. What is the ratio of residents to vacant land/property in this area? 90%-plus vacancy? Who is being pushed out? Gentrification is a major problem, but . . . I really disagree that it’s an issue at this time for your neighborhood.

In the 25 years I’ve lived in Detroit I haven’t seen one thing happen along this stretch of Michigan Avenue aside from a fresh coat of paint on the Highwaymen’s Club. Aside from their corner and improvement in their property, outside of a new gas station on the corner of the freeway service drive and new lampposts, zero activity going on. Zero.

You haven’t done anything here other than complain and demean the couple who made something really artistic and beautiful happen in the middle of an abandoned retail strip.

I’m sure your intentions are good. But my God, get a grip. . . .

(This is my opinion; haven’t even spoken to the couple.)

► LaneHi Todd, I’m really glad you posted a response. The title of this story is evocative. Its evocative for the purpose of starting a dialogue about how “blank slate” thinking is harmful in a city like Detroit.

I love the fact that the couple moved in and began building and improving the neighborhood. That part is fine. What’s not fine is rebranding.

For example, the reason you gave for why the couple renamed the area affirms my point about power, privilege and “blank slate” thinking.

You said, “The wife and I created the logo 'West Corktown' and made a few shirts because they always had a hard time telling people visiting exactly where they lived.”

My question to you is, if you moved to the state of Illinois would you change the name of the state because you grew tired of explaining how it is pronounced? No. But, you have managed to rebrand a whole neighborhood where “zero activity going on. Zero,” because it's in Detroit, a city where it is assumed that you can do anything.

My intention is to raise awareness about the unrecognized work going on in Core City. . . . I did not attack the couple’s character. I criticized the way they went about moving into the neighborhood.

► RidleyThanks for the response. I will agree that we disagree. Respectfully.

Gentrification is a real problem. I just don’t see it here and I don’t think you “stopped gentrification.”

A far more meaningful response would have been to meet with and work with the couple. Perhaps a conversation with them (or us) would have resulted in a better effort.

Instead, the area we’re talking about, a small section of Core Cities, looks basically the same as it did for the past 20 years. It has to be better than this. . . .

I don’t live in your neighborhood. But I feel strongly that in this particular episode, you are wrong. Let’s agree to disagree.

► Lane: It's the mindset that I’m addressing here, Todd. Detroit isn’t a blank slate. It's a place filled with history, and rebranding sweeps that away.

Core City Neighborhood, Inc. has been in existence since 1984. They built 475 single-family homes in the neighborhood, they serve 1,000 meals a day to the homeless and provide clothing and essentials to people in need.

Alternatives for Girls, a shelter for young women and girls, said that no other neighborhood association would accept them. But, Core City Neighborhood Inc did.

What happens if you rebrand the neighborhood that is the namesake of this CDC [Community Development Corporation]? You sweep away the work they have done in this community.

While it's not glamorized like converting an old bank into a loft, it's meaningful work.

So, what you (and the couple) should have done was walk across the street to introduce yourself to the CDC, instead of taking it upon yourself to rebrand. 


Read more:  Medium


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