Venable – C-VILLE Weekly

Uncovered: How racist redlining shaped our urban forest

The trees you see around town are more than just nice to look at. On a hot day, they provide much-needed shade. When it rains, they absorb flood waters. They help filter air and absorb noise pollution, especially when planted near busy streets. And they’ve been linked to reducing stress and anxiety, among other benefits.

But thanks to decades of racist zoning laws and housing covenants, many low-income, formerly redlined neighborhoods in Charlottesville—and around the country—have little to no tree cover.

According to the Tree Commission’s latest tree canopy study, historically Black neighborhoods Starr Hill and 10th and Page have less than 20 percent tree canopy, the lowest in the city. Meanwhile, neighborhoods where racial covenants once prevented Black people from renting or buying homes—like Venable and Locust Grove—have more than 40 percent tree cover, which exceeds the commission’s goal for the city.

“We got here not accidentally, but [by] creating our cities and our policies historically,” says Brian Menard, chair of the Charlottesville Tree Commission. “With the systemic racism that disadvantaged minority communities, we created these [neighborhoods] where trees were either never part of the environment, or increasingly couldn’t be a part of [it] because there was no ability to plant them.”

With few trees to reflect the sun’s rays, the asphalt roads and concrete sidewalks in Charlottesville’s low-canopy neighborhoods absorb and radiate heat, making them up to 30 degrees hotter than their high-canopy counterparts. This is especially dangerous during the summer—heat-related illnesses kill up to 12,000 people in the U.S. per year, and climate change is only causing more intense heat waves.

Higher temperatures also make it harder to breathe, and have been linked to respiratory illnesses like asthma. Diabetes, high blood pressure, and obesity, already prevalent in the Black community, are worsened by heat, as are mental health issues.

A sparse tree canopy takes a toll on residents’ pockets as well. With fewer shady places to gather during the summer, people are more likely to stay cooped up inside and run their air conditioners—if their unit includes one—all day, which leads to high energy bills.

At the height of Jim Crow, redlining systemically kept Black people from becoming homeowners in white, typically healthier neighborhoods. Black neighborhoods—regardless of income level—were considered “hazardous” for private and federal loans. Only white families were deemed worthy of investment, allowing them to easily attain mortgages and build generational wealth.

White homeowners could usually plant trees on their own property, or lobby their local government to fill their neighborhoods with parks and other green spaces. Black residents, largely forced into renting, had to rely on their landlords, who often had very little incentive or desire to invest in Black neighborhoods.

To make things worse, “poor communities of all colors in cities were often put where the slaughterhouses, mills, and factories were—places that were already environmentally inequitable,” says Menard. “Now we don’t have that kind of industry in most places….[but residents] are still suffering from the effects years and years later.”

The solution is “way more complicated” than just planting trees, warns Tree Commission member Paul Josey. The city cannot plant trees on private property without permission, and there are lots of places where there’s little room on public land for vegetation.

Additionally, the commission—which is currently all white—does not want to continue the city’s legacy of imposing the will of white people on people of color. Instead, it’s focused on “building long-term relationships and trust” with communities, says Josey, mainly by educating residents about the dangers of too few trees, and helping those who want trees, get them for free.

From 2018 to 2019, the commission knocked on hundreds of doors in Belmont—which had the most available planting area—and asked homeowners if they wanted a free tree in their front yard. With help from the Charlottesville Area Tree Stewards, they were able to plant around 45 trees.

“We did a similar effort to bring trees to some of the city’s public housing…Our education and advocacy in several cases led to actual trees going into the ground,” adds Menard. “We’ve already identified some low-canopy neighborhoods we want to start working with, but the pandemic has halted that for now.”

With more trees comes concern about gentrification. Adding green space—along with parks and playgrounds—to low-income neighborhoods could encourage more-affluent people to move in, increasing property values, and forcing the folks in need of the benefits of trees out because they no longer can afford to live there.

Josey says preventing gentrification requires fully addressing the socioeconomic consequences of redlining. The city must work to offer better employment opportunities and increase home ownership among Black residents, in addition to improving its zoning codes and building more affordable housing (with trees).

“The fact that there has been systemic injustice within housing needs to be righted,” he says. And “the key way to build investment within neighborhoods is through home ownership.”

In order to keep climate equity at the forefront, both Josey and Menard emphasize that a diverse array of community groups—from the Public Housing Association of Residents to the Community Climate Collective—must continue to work together to address this multi-faceted issue.

“This can’t be something that we just lead, because we are just volunteers,” says Josey. “It takes a lot of work, and a lot of stakeholders…It’s not just about putting a tree in the ground.”

A neighborhood divided: Proposed regs in Woolen Mills still controversial

City Council is expected to vote next month on a proposed Woolen Mills historic conservation district that would impose new regulations on about 85 residences and that continues to divide homeowners in the neighborhood.

“It’s pretty cut and dry that people don’t want it,” says Eric Hurt, a resident who will live in the historic overlay if it passes. “When a neighborhood association divides a neighborhood and steps onto private property, it’s bound to get heated,” he says in an email to a couple of other Woolen Mills residents.

Though the Woolen Mills Neighborhood Association originally was in favor of implementing the historic conservation district, a recent poll by the city showed that 57 percent of poll respondents living in the proposed area weren’t in favor of it, and that’s why the board pulled its support, according to chair John Frazee.

The initial poll done by the neighborhood association in May 2016 showed that 94 percent of Woolen Mills affected property owners who responded supported the conservation district. Opponents have long argued that those originally in favor weren’t given enough information to make a proper decision, thus paving the way for the second poll.

The text for the new zoning was rewritten for clarity in February, because there were questions about what would be allowed in the historic conservation district and whether homeowners would need Board of Architectural Review approval before building structures as insignificant as birdhouses and mailboxes, Frazee says.

As it’s written now, a certificate of appropriateness will be required for all new buildings that require a building permit unless they aren’t visible from any abutting streets. Additions located to the side or front of principal structures will require approval, as will additions that are equal to or greater than 50 percent of the total gross floor area of the existing building, or additions located on the rear of the existing structure that exceed its height or width.

Painting any previously unpainted brick or masonry will also require a certificate of appropriateness, but repainting a material other than unpainted brick or masonry is exempt. Ordinary maintenance and repairs are also exempt.

“It’s very important to note that I feel that offering the neighborhood an opportunity for the historic district was the right thing to do. I believe that the trade-off of regulation and potential cost is well offset by the protection the neighborhood gets when it comes to things like new construction and demolition,” says Frazee, who has lived in Woolen Mills for about 12 years and spent six of them on the neighborhood association board. He lives two houses outside of the proposed conservation district that namely protects properties on Chesapeake, Riverside, Steephill, Franklin and East Market streets.

“He’s willing to put rules and regulations on the people, but not follow them himself,” says Hurt. And in his message to neighbors, he says, “This situation is very, very, very simple. These homes and properties are owned not by [Neighborhood Development Services] or the [Woolen Mills Neighborhood Association], but by the people who have worked hard, saved money, taken out a mortgage and purchased them. Shame on anyone who is attempting to place restrictions and costs onto their own neighbors.”

Longtime Woolen Mills resident Bill Emory, who is a former member of the City Planning Commission, advocated for passing the ordinance at the City Council meeting, and said historic conservation districts were created to protect the character of “modest, historic neighborhoods without imposing harsh requirements on residents who want to remodel their homes.”

He said there have been no homeowner appeals to council regarding the ordinance since two conservation districts were implemented in the Martha Jefferson and Venable neighborhoods in 2010 and 2014, respectively.

City Councilor Kathy Galvin, an architect, has been vocal in supporting the proposed zoning regulations. She says the Board of Architectural Review voted 9-0 and the Planning Commission voted 6-0 to approve them based on resident input and physical surveys. She also says this historic district is an explicit goal of the city’s comprehensive plan.

“Allowing a second opinion poll to overturn these votes made little sense when resident input is supposed to inform the PC and BAR, not undermine their legal authority,” Galvin says. “If you don’t like the law, change it. Don’t sabotage it.”

The Martha Jefferson and Venable neighborhood associations obtained conservation district status after submitting letters of support and poll results before any BAR or Planning Commission votes, Galvin says.

“No other neighborhood association had a second poll taken after the BAR and PC had voted in favor of their conservation district designation,” she says. “To suddenly make this second poll a condition of council’s approval therefore struck me as being inconsistent and unfair. City Councilors take an oath to govern fairly and in accordance with the law.”

Updated August 1 at 9:00am to clarify poll numbers.