They forced Penn’s trustees to the negotiation table, who on Februresolved “a policy of accountability and responsibility that accepts the concerns and aspirations of the surrounding communities as its own concerns and aspirations.” They demanded affordable housing within the core of University City, specifically for displaced Black Bottom residents. In 1967, reporters of the Daily Pennsylvanian explained the insidious term “urban renewal” as shorthand for “giant impersonal institutions like the University of vouring small homeowners, spreading segregation and prolonging social inequalities.” Two years later, some 800 Penn and Philadelphia-area students and local Black activists occupied College Hall for six days. In the late 1960s, as the Black Bottom organized to defend itself, Penn students refused to sit on the sidelines. Roughly 78% of them were Black.īut anti-Black violence in Philadelphia has always been met with Black-led resistance. Those who remained faced bulldozers and arrest. Residents had no choice but to accept small payouts and leave. Love didn’t faze the Redevelopment Authority, which labeled the Black Bottom “blighted” to invoke the right of “eminent domain” in 1966.

“I come from a place where I had no love.my whole community showed me love,” says long-time activist Gerald Bolling, who grew up in the Black Bottom and has insisted on reparations for over 30 years. In 1959 the West Philadelphia Corporation – with Penn the majority shareholder – formed to redevelop West Philly as “University City.” Working with the Philadelphia Redevelopment Authority, the Corporation targeted the 105 acres between 34th and 40th Streets, stretching from Chestnut and Ludlow Streets in the south to Lancaster and Powelton Avenues in the north, for “renewal.” This was the Black Bottom, a vibrant Black working-class community that took care of its own. Indeed, the struggle to stop Penn-trification led to the creation of the University City Townhomes in the first place. However, a closer look at the local history reveals that Penn community members also have a vital role to play in resisting this violence. Neither “natural” nor “inevitable,” such forced displacements are the result of concrete choices made by city and Penn administrators past and present. Those who hold federal Section 8 vouchers face a closed waiting list 40,000 households long. The eviction is scheduled for July 2022, and residents will confront Philadelphia’s extreme shortage of low-income housing. University City’s insatiable expansion has ensured that the site now constitutes “prime real estate.” Developers contemplate demolishing the Townhomes in favor of yet another mixed-use building boasting luxury condominiums, commercial space, or science labs. In 2021 the Altman Group announced plans to sell the Townhomes, refusing to renew its affordable-housing subsidies. Just blocks off campus, the University City Townhomes at 3900-3999 Market Street are a private development of federally subsidized units, offering below-market rates to residents, some of whom have lived there a lifetime. As we write, 69 homes in “University City” and hundreds of Black and working-class residents are Penn-trification’s next target.

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