While gentrification is often associated with neighborhoods in cities, scholar Willow Lung-Amam describes what gentrification can look like in Maryland suburbs:

Just as there was nothing natural about the processes that prompted suburban decline, there was nothing natural about the vast funds poured into these communities to make redevelopment happen. County and state governments led the way through planning, policies, and public investments meant to entice private investment. As Silver Spring and Wheaton vividly revealed, their efforts were layered and robust: enterprise zones, urban and art districts, eminent domain, tax breaks, parcel assemblage, parking regulations, new transit investments and infrastructure. Public agencies created new market pressures that directed and enabled profitable private development. They served as the promotional arm of private corporations, advertising new suburban downtowns as safe for middle-class consumers and residents. They were critical actors in creating displacement pressures and were, as many activists argued, responsible for their redress.

But for the millions of dollars in tax breaks, incentives and assistance that developers were given, what was asked in return for those who lost their homes, businesses and sense of community? What was gained for those who had lived with broken sidewalks and run-down playgrounds for decades? Were they the beneficiaries of this progress – or was the development, as many suspected, for someone else?

As visions for new suburban downtowns emerged, long-standing communities could scarcely see themselves in the sketches of shiny new plazas and pedestrian streets. As in downtown Silver Spring, these images projected futures that allowed for the comfortable return of the white middle classes, catering to their tastes and preferences for what an authentic and safe urban experience looked and felt like. They did not honor marginalized groups’ deep histories, struggles or valued places. If suburban boosters dared to look back at all, their visions sugarcoated the past in ways that did not trouble their present plans.

Even diversity became a selling point. In Wheaton, multicultural festivals crowded the downtown plaza and colorful art displays featured faces from across the world. Yet many wondered whether its fragile diversity was simply a transition to a future in which they no longer existed.

This is gentrification — and it is suburban. While the language of retrofitting or renaissance may be much more genteel, their processes are no less brutal nor disruptive. They affect the lives and livelihoods of countless neighborhoods and threaten the sense of place that people of color and new immigrants have fought to establish and protect, sometimes with, but largely in the absence of, white neighbors and public support.

This sounds similar to what studies of urban gentrification find: the promises of new development and growth can have negative consequences for residents already there.

I wonder if resisting gentrification in the suburbs might be harder for two reasons:

1. Growth is good in the United States. This is true across numerous American communities but might even be more baked into the idea of suburbia. Suburbs are meant to grow. To resist growth is to resist a higher status. (An exception might be that communities that are already well-off and exclusive can resist growth.)
2. It can be hard at times to find local suburban narratives that highlight the difficulties some face in the suburbs or the ways that exclusion shaped suburban communities. The argument above appears to highlight that gentrification limits opportunities; this goes against local and broader narratives that suburbs are about opportunity and securing a portion of the American Dream.

I look forward to reading this book and considering further gentrification in suburbia.