Gentrification in Black and White

By Jamal E. Watson | Last updated: Sep 1, 2003 - 9:32:00 PM

‘Magic’ gentrification squeezes Harlem small business
NEW YORK (NNPA) - As Ryan McGuire makes his way down Harlem’s crowded 125th Street, his eyes immediately make contact with the blue neon lights that dangle from the Old Navy department store. "Look over here," the 16-year-old tourist from Indianapolis yells at his parents. "I need to get some back-to-school clothes." And with that, Mr. McGuire enters Old Navy and begins his shopping spree. And then he heads straight to Modell’s Sporting Goods, before retiring for the afternoon to the Magic Johnson Multiplex movie theater.

Many have long argued that Harlem and other Black neighborhoods needed big-name commercial stores like Old Navy and Marshall’s to help turn around the local economy. And when gentrification began to occur with unprecedented force in the 1990s, along with it came brand name stores like Starbucks, Disney and H&M.

But now, some small Black-owned businesses are struggling to stay afloat in an environment that forces them to compete against mega retail outlets.

"We’re the fly and they’re the elephant," laments one Black small-business owner in Harlem. "Overnight, our clientele has been snatched right from under our nose. It’s a problem and, to be honest, it doesn’t help that the owner of a few of these stores is Magic Johnson, a wealthy Black man."

Mr. Johnson’s investment is part of a movement by wealthy Blacks, such as poet Maya Angelou and singers Nick Ashford and Valerie Simpson, to invest in areas of Harlem. Mr. Johnson’s entrepreneurial skill has opened the way for many Blacks, who otherwise might not support big chain stores, to grab a cup of coffee at his Starbucks or watch a movie at his theater because he is African American.

"It just complicates matters," the business owner adds. "How can any Black person be against Magic investing in the Black community? But if his enterprise continues to expand, he’s going to kill many of these businesses."

Long before the commercial outlets came, Harlem, like other Black neighborhoods, was known for a host of Black-owned small businesses. But when property values began to soar, these businesses were forced to move elsewhere, because they could no longer afford to stay put.

"You can’t maintain these small businesses when larger businesses are coming into Harlem and people are not really shopping at the small minority-owned businesses," says Thelma Russell, executive director of the Harlem Business Alliance, a coalition of local businesses in Harlem. "These businesses are really suffering. They are trying to maintain themselves, but many of them are on a month-to-month lease and they don’t know if they will be able to continue doing business."

But Ms. Russell and others are cautious to curb themselves.

No one who remembers the dilapidated buildings that stood vacant in Harlem throughout the 1970s and ’80s wants to return back to those times. But community and business leaders are struggling to find a nice compromise that would allow the big businesses and the minority-owned small businesses to share in the local wealth.

"We need to co-exist, and I think you can have them both," she says. "Everyone has to stick together. We can’t overlook the small businesses and go straight to the big ones. We need to support each other."

Gina Ramcharan, the owner of GSquared, a fine jewelry shop located in Harlem’s Brownstone, a house that has been converted into a retail space for rent by local merchants, dreams someday of securing property to operate her own shop. But she admits that the prospect of being able to do so has become "pretty scary." Ms. Ramcharan, who purchased a home in Harlem five years ago, remembers when other New York City residents would venture uptown to the boutique shops to purchase items that could only be made in Harlem boutiques.

"The face of this neighborhood is changing completely, and I don’t know if it’s for the better," she says.

But two years ago, she still opened her jewelry store in Harlem, even after realizing that there were other places in New York City or the surrounding suburbs that might have proven more profitable.

"I believe in the area wholeheartedly," she says. "Small businesses can get through these hard times." In recent years, Ms. Ramcharan, like Ms. Russell, has watched as longtime Harlem businesses have closed shop for good. The trend is occurring in other Black neighborhoods across the city, as well. There are, of course, many businesses that have weathered the tough times: economic decay, a spate of crime and loss of business. Yet, they remain.

"The small businesses in this neighborhood have equity—their sweat and tears," says Ms. Russell, who argues that they stayed and invested when few others were willing to risk economic capital on places such as Harlem.

At the end of the day, Ms. Ramcharan knows that in order to save these businesses, tourists and residents, too, especially those who are part of the new wave of residents gentrifying Harlem, have to be willing to spend their dollars in these small outlets.

"There should be a sense of loyalty," she adds. "These businesses were there when no one else cared to come."

(This is the sixth in a series of articles about gentrification in New York City. Jamal E. Watson can be reached at [email protected].)

The Final Call