In July 1996, Lynn Cummings noticed that an African-American family had moved to her block of Magnolia Street in Pennsauken, N.J. Within two weeks, she saw five “for sale” signs sprout like weeds on nearby lawns.
“I remember walking outside and feeling a real sadness,” she said. “Then I decided to do something.”
Months later, Cummings and seven other neighbors formed Neighbors Empowering Pennsauken, an organization dedicated to protecting the township’s diversity. They researched other integrated communities, such as Shaker Heights in Ohio and South Orange-Maplewood in North Jersey. The results were sobering. Diversity is fragile and constantly threatened by resegregation, they found.
Prompted by the neighbors group, the Township Committee is poised to hire Don DeMarco, executive director of the nonprofit Fund for an Open Society in Philadelphia. He has devoted more than 30 years to helping communities resist resegregation across the United States.
In the next few years, DeMarco and the township could attempt one of the most ambitious efforts in the Philadelphia and Camden area to protect diversity, said Thomas Sugrue, professor of history and sociology at the University of Pennsylvania.
“If it succeeds, it has the potential to be a model for suburban communities in the metropolitan area and even farther afield,” he said.
Pennsauken has become more diverse in the last 10 years. Nevertheless, “we are really in that process of deciding what stage the town is in,” said Harold Adams, a member of Neighbors Empowering Pennsauken. “Is resegregation happening for sure?”
In 1989, when Cummings moved to Magnolia Avenue, which is just south of the Merchantville border, 98 percent of the neighborhood was white, and there were no black or Latino residents. Today, the 15 homes near Cummings’ have five black families, four Latino or mixed families, and one family from the Philippines.
For Cummings, who has adopted and raised a mixed-race daughter, the change is a delight.
“The town I had always wanted has come to me,” she said.
It has also come to the rest of the township. In 1995, non-white students made up 46 percent of the 5,700 student population. Last year, 68 percent of students were non-white.
“Twenty-two years ago,” committeeman Jack Killion said, “I lived on a lily-white block; now it’s the United Nations. It’s great. It’s enjoyable.”
It’s also rare. And in the United States, extremely fragile.
Maintaining diversity “needs political and social will,” Sugrue said. “Pennsauken is at a crossroads. It can either stay diverse or resegregate.”
That’s where DeMarco comes in.
He “identifies needs and approaches, and we run with the ball,” said Rick Taylor, a member of the Township Committee, which plans to hire DeMarco for a year for $10,000. “There’s no panacea. I think we have an outside person who looks at things objectively and tells you things, and if you are ready to listen, we can make tremendous progress.”
The process starts with the formation of a committee whose members come from all races, classes, beliefs, occupations, and political viewpoints in Pennsauken. The committee is a combination of grassroots organization and local political and economic clout. Members will develop programs such as block organizations and rally support from residents.
The real estate market is critically important, said DeMarco, whose nonprofit group has provided housing loans to encourage integration. When white home buyers are replaced by minority home buyers, who generally have less money to spend, prices tumble. White flight ensues, and a community can turn over from one race to another in a brief time, he said.
“Both races feel cheated,” DeMarco said. “One, because their housing values fall, and the other because they’re treated like poison.”
The solution is attracting all races to compete for all township real estate. Advertising in select publications will encourage white and black families to mix neighborhood populations.
In a fully integrated community, more dollars and more customers enter the housing market, raising home values. The social benefits are easier to appreciate after the economic ones are clear.
Mary Temple, a resident of Magnolia Avenue, moved from 47th Street nine years ago after “unsavory characters” moved in.
“We heard gunshots,” she recalled. “We weren’t comfortable raising two little girls there.”
Leaving wasn’t a question of race, she said as she watched her 8-year-old daughter do cartwheels on the lawn in a swirl of heels and blond hair.
“It was a totally different class of people. The neighbors we have now wouldn’t tolerate it,” she said. “They all have children and maintain their properties. My children play with the Latino children down the street. I don’t have a problem with it, and neither do my children.”
Temple’s words were echoed by a Latino neighbor who moved in nine months ago.
“It’s a beautiful neighborhood,” said Julie Rivera, 33. “As long as people maintain their properties, I could care less.”
“When you have racially integrated, robust (housing) demand, everyone is a winner,” DeMarco said. “It’s a matter of getting people involved not for altruistic reasons, but for something that will benefit their pocketbooks and their lives.”
DeMarco acknowledged that the process is a form of social engineering. “But there’s always engineering going on,” he said. “That’s the difference between a community resegregating and a community being interracially integrated 10 or 20 years down the line.”
In early April, Mayor Bill Orth and Killion visited South Orange-Maplewood and said they had received glowing reports from community officials about the program.
“They consider it pretty successful,” Killion said. “It brought the community together, stabilized the real estate market; they don’t regret what they did.”
The commitment is long-term and may need substantial money. As the program grows in the next few years, the cost could reach $100,000 annually. Committee members pointed out that the contract could be reconsidered each year.
“We could cut the cord any time we want,” Orth said. “We don’t have that intention, but we have that protection.”
Other Township Committee members saw it as a worthwhile investment.
“If we’re not ready to invest in this town,” Killion said, “we might as well just pack up and leave now.”
South Orange and Maplewood officials attribute a 30 percent rise in real estate values partly to their integration efforts.
Cummings, however, looks forward to the social benefits.
“I had this idea,” she said, “that one of these days we will have this fabulous place that was nationally recognized as a harmonious multicultural place.”
