No Hope for a Gentle Gentrification

It’s hard to imagine, with its high priced boutiques and coffee shop-lined streets, that Larimer Square was my first glimpse into poverty. Real poverty.

As a child, my mother brought me down to the then-dilapidated part of Denver. She wanted me to know how “the other half” lived. In the 70s, it was a blighted neighborhood with graffiti-covered concrete from what was left of crumbling buildings. It’s the first time I saw men in filthy, ripped clothing; the first time I saw people keeping warm around make-shift fires; the first time I smelled chronic homelessness — urine mixed with vomit and other body odors. My mother used to go down and give them money. Many were drug addicts and alcoholics. She told me they would probably spend it on alcohol, but if we lived like that, we would need a drink too.

Known as the Mile High City’s oldest and most historic block, it’s now a hipster’s paradise. It’s perhaps the first part of our city to replace poverty-stricken sectors with upscale restaurants, elite bars and clubs, and luxury condos. Soon, the rest of the city followed suit. Sounds great, right?

Not always.

As Colorado’s economy booms, it’s not just the homeless who are being pushed out. Most lower-income areas are transforming into trendy hotspots — hotspots where local residents can no longer afford to live.

The Business Insider ranks Colorado third in the nation for the fastest-growing economy. Denver, like many metropolitan cities, is pushing much of its lower-income residents out. That doesn’t mean poverty here is gone; it’s just becoming more rural. Colorado Springs is ranked sixth in poverty growth nationwide with an 88 percent jump. Census data shows 20 percent of people in the southeast portion of the city are living at or below the poverty line. Similar levels can be found in many rural pockets, especially in southern Colorado.

Others are being pushed out of the state entirely. You may know Shayne Morgan from her many charity drag shows in Denver’s LGBT bars and clubs. “I was making $50,000 a year and still couldn’t make ends meet,” she says. When both her daughter and her girlfriend found themselves in the same position, they decided to move to Florida. Now, she says, instead of a cramped, one-bedroom apartment, they’re living in a three-bedroom house for about the same price.

If you’re a lesbian in Denver, chances are good you’ve been to one of Cathy Valentine’s legendary Memorial Day camping parties. She’s hosted parties and poker games here for more than two decades. But last year she, too, found herself hitting the road in search of lower rents. After living in Florida for less than a year, her partner’s mother became ill and they had to move back to Colorado. Cathy says, “We were paying $700 a month before we left for a very tiny place. Now that same tiny place is $1,200.”

It’s a situation more and more people find themselves in. Earning a good living, but not good enough to afford a decent place to live. Various rental companies report rents in Denver increased more than 5 percent every year since 2010, with a nearly 10 percent jump last year and another 9 percent increase anticipated this year. Denver rents are now the 10th highest among the nation’s top 20 cities.

Larimer Square doesn’t smell of homelessness anymore. Today, an eclectic mix of nearby street foods combine the scents of Thai sushi rolls with gourmet jalapeno hot dogs, tacos, and barbecue. Fire isn’t used for warmth anymore; instead you’ll find pizzas, pretzels, even oysters roasting on one of the many wood or coal fueled brick ovens. The historic restored buildings now stand tall, housing some of the city’s finest chef-driven restaurants, art galleries, and trendy night spots.

It costs a lot down here, not just in rent but in people lost. Our city is losing entire segments, mostly members of the diverse cultures that attracted many here in the first place.