Los Angeles' Growth--Mapped

While in downtown Los Angeles, I stumbled upon a showcase of Los Angeles maps in the Public Library, dating back to the early 1800s before its rapid development. Little did I know, L.A. was not always predominantly cement and automobiles. Where did the orchards go? 

Blogging Social Difference in L.A.: Week 4

               If I have a preconceived idea about a location's personality, it may lead to a one-way relationship in which I impose my ideas upon it, but it is unable to communicate openly with me. I want a genuine relationship to develop, not one marred by bias or stubbornness. However, for this blog I wanted to focus on a low-income area with a high crime rate. Thus, again utilizing www.simplymap.com, I researched and found that the zip code 90021 (San Pedro) has the highest EASI Total Crime Index. I hoped that this area would demonstrate the conditions William Wilson included in his definition of underclass in "The Truly Disadvantaged": "long-term unemployment or are not members of labor force, engaged in street crime and forms of aberrant behavior, families that experience long-term spells of poverty and/or welfare dependency."  

Total Crime Index by Census Tracts: 90021 highlighted

Not in Labor Force by Census Tracts: 90021 highlighted

               As I drove into the area, located near South Central L.A. in downtown, enormous factories on either side distracted me from evaluating whether or not the area seemed dangerous. Dilapidated windows 

Factory for American Apparel in San Pedro

and old-looking buildings suggested less- than-glamorous working conditions. The factories contrast with the modern, sleek business buildings I saw last week in Korea Town. Various signs on the buildings ("Legalize LA!") indicate social unrest for a certain part of the population fighting for more rights. The labor signs on the factories remind me of the principle of community employed by David Harvey in "The Urban Process Under Capitalism" to explain a major "springboard" (Harvey 37) for class action; it is a "weapon in class struggle" (Harvey 37). The conflict that results is central to a society under capitalism, a society of contradictions and civil disorder. Continuing further into the region, it appeared as though this had once been a booming area, but today it felt rather empty...until I reached the Fashion District. Sun glinted off of sparkly skirts, shirts, dresses, and shoes as I walked past rows of boutiques. Were there more people or mannequins? Mannequins, I guessed. Like the flower district I describe below, this adjacent area is a cluster of almost identical businesses trying to out-compete the next. Spanish conversations floated on the bustling sidewalks where stacks of card board boxes made maneuvering difficult. Competition, the fuel of capitalism, was not out-of-stock here. 

            Why do you live here? This is a complex question in disguise. Auroura, an elderly Mexican woman I encountered while walking through the Flower Market in San Pedro did not pause to ponder.

Flower Markets

Auroura came here to Los Angeles from Mexico in 1965 "para encontrar una vida mejor," to find a better life. Interviewing her in Spanish, I asked if she has found that life. Sí, yes she has. In the Flower District, "hay mucha competencia," there is a lot of competition, but the work she has found sustains her and her family. After speaking with Auroura about immigration, I pictured the concentric circle format  Ernest Burgess uses to illustrate the zones of large cities. In the "zone of deterioration" which surrounds the central business zone (just as the Fashion District is on the periphery of central downtown L.A.), he claims there are poverty-ridden slums with "underworlds of crime and vice" (Burgess 342). According to Burgess, these regions consist of immigrant colonies--American adaptations of old cultures--who are "obsessed with a vision of a new and better world." While Burgess's naturalization of difference may not be accurate, Auroura puts a face to his claim; the district consists of many immigrants searching for "una vida mejor." The model he utilizes is "ideal" and can not perfectly represent Los Angeles' expansion. Nevertheless, though L.A. is not as clearly separated or organized into rings, this region demonstrates how immigration can reorganize and lead to differentiation into economic and cultural groupings. Even on a brisk Fall afternoon, every street side and corner in sight is in bloom; flowers of all colors, shapes, sizes combine to form one person's living, and another person's fragrant gift. Each shop is only slightly different from the next, and even so, the differences are often imperceptible. How do they differentiate themselves when there are only so many ways to display a bouquet? It is no wonder that Auroura emphasized "mucha" with a widening of her mahogany eyes when describing the competition. Although the flower vendors are side-by-side, clustered onto two blocks, their success depends on attracting more customers than the others. Auroura believes there to be little "violencia," violence, in the Flower District, but conflict is still very present despite the similar ethnic, social, and economic backgrounds of the vendors; this type of conflict is less physically painful than the violence William Wilson refers to in "The Truly Disadvantaged," instead I am reminded of David Harvey's "The Urban Process Under Capitalism," which focuses on the inseparable dichotomy of class struggle and accumulation. Although they are competing, the working-class community in the Flower District is just that: a community.
           Curious about the redlining phenomenon discussed in a 1992 New York Times newspaper article entitled "Riots Raise Concerns About Insurance Redlining," I asked various people in the Fashion District about the Rodney King riots and whether they believe it has had lasting affects on Los Angeles' social structure or the presence of businesses. Not one person was able to answer the question directly. Instead, a majority shrugged and stated that it did not affect them; they acted as if the location they are currently in is separate from "over there," gesturing somewhere off in the distance. These reactions surprised me, considering the close proximity of this community to where the riots occurred. Thus, I turned to an imaginary Robert E. Park, who believed that "the City is a mosaic of little worlds that touch but do not interpenetrate,"  and nodded in agreement. While I still am not positive about the truth of Park's statement, each area I have traveled to so far has characteristics of a little world--some multi-ethnic and others dominated by a single ethnicity and social class, like the sellers in San Pedro. Similar to the Koreans in Korea Town, this community of ethnically similar people work in the same area but do not necessarily work together.
         Although I did not find what I intended to find--how  "current racism" affects "nonracial factors such as economic-class position and modern economic trends" (Wilson 189)--this area confirmed the possibility of a mosaic city-structure. Seconds after leaving the boundaries of 90021, I entered historic downtown L.A. and an entirely different atmosphere--a separate world?

The district is difficult to describe in words; a video more accurately captures the pulse of the community. Here is footage from my walk along the streets:

Blogging Social Difference in L.A.: Week 3

             Initially, I intended to compare the implications of cleanliness (or lack thereof) in two adjacent zip-codes utilizing the information attained on www.simplymap.com. Both Sibley in his 1995 article "Mapping the Pure and Defiled" and Engels in his article "The Great Towns" associate lower classes with filth and defilement, pointing out the clear separation of the "happier classes" and the "working-class" (Engels 11); there are distinct territories "removed from the sight" (Engels 11) of the elite. Engels describes with disgust the "foul pools of stagnant urine and excrement" (Engels 13) in the working-class regions adjacent to the dark, murky river running through Manchester. Although Los Angeles is significantly more developed than the Manchester Engels illustrated, it still has not excluded exclusion; it has not been cleansed of racism, sexism, or other forms of prejudice. Today, there are still race-based conflicts and unfairness due to gender differences. So, I headed into areas of both extremes to see if this class division still exists visibly, even if it is as not as evident as on the streets of Manchester during its industrial development. Is there a systematic shutting-out of the “others” (Sibley)—including but not limited to the poor, racial minorities, prostitutes, and working-class according to Sibley—in certain Los Angeles regions? Whether it is conscious or unintended, do individuals view those that are dissimilar as threatening and deviant “others,” not to be approached but rather ignored? Do social conflicts result from these stereotypes? Is a society more or less cohesive where cultural mixing occurs? As Sibley notes, cities are generally cleaner due to material improvements, but minorities may still be viewed as human pollution.  In the zip-code 90010, 100% of people reported using toothbrush according to the SimmonsLocal data. On the other hand, in 90048, 23.49% of the population answered negatively. Although brushing teeth is not the sole determiner of overall cleanliness, I thought it might indicate which areas are concerned with hygiene, and also have the means to do so. After traveling to both zip-codes, what I intended to investigate and analyze shifted dramatically. 

            Driving through West Hollywood to arrive at my first destination near Melrose, my eyes could not ignore the giant statements of wealth passing by on my left. The houses were magnificent, and the areas immediately surrounding them were relatively well-kept. Upon entering the 90048 zipcode, two massive medical centers came into view. Doctors of various ethnicities getting off of work at 5 o’clock scurried across the street, still in scrubs. Further east, the streets were lined with shops and small restaurants of all kinds, uncomfortably squished together like my teeth before braces. Still further east, the shops began to look older, and the landscape was no longer particularly pleasing to the eye. Here, on the very edge of the region, I parked and set off for a walk. Within a five-minute drive, the landscape and atmosphere had altered considerably. Moseying along the sidewalk, my feet frequently landed on garbage, while my eyes landed on Jewish graffiti, and others’ eyes landed on me—why is this girl taking pictures of our sidewalk? Music flooded over the edge of open car windows, drowning the conversations between the small groups people I passed by. The residential area consisted mainly of mismatched apartments. Many of the shops had Hebrew on them, and I noticed a Jewish magazine, signifying a largely Jewish community. Even so, I shared the sidewalk with people of clearly different backgrounds, including an elderly Latino woman who was the only person to greet me. At one point, I photographed two neighboring shops to demonstrate the common juxtaposition of luxurious shops and shops of minimal value, of wealthy and not-so-wealthy.   

Opposites Attract

This adjoining of opposites is not a new discovery. In fact, seeing these contrasting shops reminded me L.A. as a whole; where one type of person is, the opposite type of person is often just around the corner. Sibley’s idea that feelings manifest in spatial practices and thus cities become noticeably segregated based upon class and race may be quite accurate. However, as this small region suggests, there is not an obvious center where the majority group together, pushing the “outsiders” to the edges of the city. Instead, the inside is less ambiguous and thus the outsiders are more closely intermixed. Moreover, who the “others” are depends on who the individual is, an aspect of the object relations theory. A region may have a boundary, but sometimes people can only maintain distance from difference for so long before it is standing or working beside you. Which brings me to my next destination: a region of workers…and only workers.

            Little did I know that 90010 would consist of Korea Town (K-Town, as the locals called it), which crowds Wilshire with large business buildings and countless Korean café’s. The aforementioned physical closeness of insiders and outsiders should not be mistaken for increased sociability. As evident in the chart generated by Simply Map again using Simmons Local data, 90010 is highly ranked for its inhabitants’ lack of genuine interest in others. Here, no residential areas exist. Businesses dominate the region, an observation

% Disagree: I have a genuine interest in others

emphasized repeatedly by a frank, kindly young Korean woman selling sweet bread at a café. She did not hesitate to share her opinion of the area she works in (her home is elsewhere), pointing out the apparent homeless population and the lack of community. When I asked further about the community, she laughed at the thought of people being sociable and greeting one another; people are not usually friendly. It takes months to get to know someone, like those who regularly come into the shop. Despite a cold social atmosphere, she believes that people are very proud to work here because Wilshire is perceived as “higher-class.” Using the Hispanic population as an example, she noted that even though the jobs they get in downtown are comparable to those in Korea Town, the jobs near Wilshire are more valued. This desire to work in an area that facilitates ascending the social ladder is logical, driving a diverse spectrum of workers to enter the city. Once people are here, they do not want to leave; even though her shop has existed for three years, some customers are surprised at its newness. Furthermore, she explained the unique Korean culture of individualism. While they are willing to live in the same community, they are not inclined to work together for the greater good and most definitely will not stand to be mistaken for a Chinese person. Thus, for a Korean, self might be constructed by resisting association and interaction with different cultures. Back out on the street, I conversed with a Caucasian businessman. He echoed many of the shop owner’s opinions, including his dislike of the business-dominated area due to the stressful and dangerous traffic; it is not a good place to live. He also described Koreans as people that stick to themselves: “They are not amiable people when it comes to other races.” When asked about the social interaction, he lamented that the work place is extremely rigid, preventing association with others unless it is for business purposes. I asked his ideas about the quote guiding this blog and he immediately began to name various groups of people—the Jewish in Melrose, the gays in Santa Monica, the whites in Bel Air—that conglomerate and do not necessarily interact with others. His rapid and casual classification of these areas by their ethnic, class, and gender differences seemed anything by casual. This human tendency to categorize others is similar to the tendency mentioned by both Sibley and Engels: to protect our own purity or identity and prevent anxiety.

Simmons Local Data 

            There is something uniquely human about our conflict, that it can be fueled by selfishness and prejudice. The development of cities is not nearly as predictable as succession in nature and Los Angeles’ inhabitants in particular do not often act altruistically. After describing Los Angeles’ various separate groupings, the business man I spoke to in Korea Town concluded that this phenomenon is not unique to L.A., but rather the same in large cities like Boston and New York City. It is possible that social difference has similar effects in other cities and thus it is not merely a product of location, but rather the place-making that occurs as people immigrate into the city and decide who is welcome in their new home and who is not. Also, Korea Town exemplifies that more social difference can exist where people work than where people live because it is where people of all backgrounds unite, though not necessarily in solidarity for the betterment of the larger community. While the workers must communicate and depend on each other to some extent, social interaction is still minimal. Next week I will continue to investigate how people's inclusive or exclusive attitudes towards others become map-able.