The Lives Erased by Gentrification
When I moved to Franklinton, I told myself I wasn’t displacing anyone
Here’s a sentence for you: “They’re building the luxury apartments, called River & Rich, on a former public housing site.”
It reads like an excerpt of a novel — one that’s not especially good, but very moral and sincere. It would be a novel on the subject of development, which is called “displacement” and “erasure” by others.
But just to be clear, this isn’t a heavy-handed parable. This is what has come to pass, in the year 2018, in a midsize middle American city.
“River & Rich.” Alliterative and painfully literal. It’s ambiguous, in a particularly dull way, and this is what makes it so effective, branding-wise. Because yes, these high-end apartments are actually located on Rich Street, in a neighborhood called Franklinton, in Columbus, Ohio. It’s a place where geography conflates, sometimes unbelievably, with metaphor. River & Rich is also near the Scioto River. When you hear “river,” you think sapphire and luxury, sliding glass doors, cups of coffee sipped on balconies. When you hear “rich,” you think granite countertops and elevators, bamboo flooring, sleek white shelving units. Everything in monochrome and stainless steel.
