For example, Lavone Twitty, a native resident of Washington, DC, has two daughters in D.C. public schools and has found herself unable to keep up with rising rents and describes her experiences as “being swept out of town on a tide of gentrification” (Molloy 2016). Another example involves Loretta Holloman, a resident of Northeast Washington, who is experiencing first-hand the displacement that comes with gentrification. She lives in Brookline Manor, a World War II-era development of 19 squat brick blockhouses with 535 no-frills apartments. A few miles north of the U.S. Capitol, the complex is occupied mainly by low-income tenants whose rents are government-subsidized. As the District’s growing affluence spreads in every direction, the tide of prosperity is moving toward Brookland Manor, and Brookland’s owner has decided that the complex will raze and rebuild to erect a modern, denser, more aesthetically attractive complex of 1,760 residences with an array of amenities, and far pricier rents for most tenants. But in a city with a critical shortage of affordable housing, massive redevelopments such as this have become manifestations and symbols of the problems faced by those of modest means who are fearful of being displaced by more affluent newcomers in the District’s booming real estate market. There is a dearth of low and moderately priced housing in the District, as well as a particular scarcity of affordable housing big enough for large families, many of whom end up in the crowded, decrepit shelter for homeless families at the old D.C. General Hospital. Researchers note that this gentrification is not only exacerbating homeless but also hardening a landscape of “economic segregation.” In especially impoverished areas where displaced families wind up, children are negatively affected as well, as “the outcome for a kid
For example, Lavone Twitty, a native resident of Washington, DC, has two daughters in D.C. public schools and has found herself unable to keep up with rising rents and describes her experiences as “being swept out of town on a tide of gentrification” (Molloy 2016). Another example involves Loretta Holloman, a resident of Northeast Washington, who is experiencing first-hand the displacement that comes with gentrification. She lives in Brookline Manor, a World War II-era development of 19 squat brick blockhouses with 535 no-frills apartments. A few miles north of the U.S. Capitol, the complex is occupied mainly by low-income tenants whose rents are government-subsidized. As the District’s growing affluence spreads in every direction, the tide of prosperity is moving toward Brookland Manor, and Brookland’s owner has decided that the complex will raze and rebuild to erect a modern, denser, more aesthetically attractive complex of 1,760 residences with an array of amenities, and far pricier rents for most tenants. But in a city with a critical shortage of affordable housing, massive redevelopments such as this have become manifestations and symbols of the problems faced by those of modest means who are fearful of being displaced by more affluent newcomers in the District’s booming real estate market. There is a dearth of low and moderately priced housing in the District, as well as a particular scarcity of affordable housing big enough for large families, many of whom end up in the crowded, decrepit shelter for homeless families at the old D.C. General Hospital. Researchers note that this gentrification is not only exacerbating homeless but also hardening a landscape of “economic segregation.” In especially impoverished areas where displaced families wind up, children are negatively affected as well, as “the outcome for a kid