The Wake

Ah, Cedar-Riverside. The mere mention of that hyphenated name is enough to get a rise out of most Minneapolitans, not to mention the ones who actually live there. It is a divisive area, a place that has been characterized as both a colorful ethnic melting pot and a miniature gangland; the last “real” corridor of the city and a bullet-riddled death trap.

This long-running debate is even more pertinent to students at our fair university, whose daily travels often take them within a stones’ throw of Riverside. For many U students, the area has long been a source of confusion and target of misguided derision. For those of you just entering the world of higher education here in Minneapolis, I guarantee you it won’t be long before you have to endure a long-winded
description of the many deadly faults of Cedar-Riverside. It will most likely be given by someone who has never spent more than five minutes there. It will most likely grate.

It’s unfortunate that it gets reduced to that, though, because the issue is immensely complex. Cedar-Riverside is an area in flux, an area with real issues relating to its identity and its ability to handle emerging social issues. It’s an area whose faults are often misrepresented by bigots, elitists and the ignorant.

First things first: The Cedar-Riverside neighborhood is triangular-shaped area west of campus with three definitive boundaries: the Mississippi River to the west, Interstate 94 to the south and Interstate 35W to the west. It has long been a cultural center for artists, activists and students and now boasts the city’s largest immigrant population, according the City of Minneapolis’ website.

While the whole “artist/activist haven” torch seems to have been passed to Uptown (at least perceptually) in the past decade or so, that last point has been firmly entrenched in the mainstream perception of the area. Much like dive bars and monster truck arenas, Cedar-Riverside is an area that seems to bring out the worst in people. To wit: I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve heard people dismiss it as the “Somali ghetto” or fearfully avoid grocery stores because they’re staffed by people with dark skin. Much of the derision aimed at the area is not at all based in fact but in racist fantasies. These racist fantasies also infuse any incident with an unnecessary sense of gravitas, turning a mere snatch-and-grab into a denunciation of all Somalis, Muslims, Africans, etc.

I guess you could say that I’m tired of people trashing Cedar-Riverside without actually having lived there or even spent time there. It really is an interesting neighborhood that has its fair share of charms. With unique businesses like Mayday Books and the Hard Times Cafe that double as rallying points and performance spaces like The Cedar Cultural Center and Bedlam Theatre, the area has a lot to offer those curious enough to explore it. It also, as I mentioned earlier, is one of the most diverse areas in the city, which is refreshing after being submerged in thinly-veiled mega malls like our Campus or Hennepin Avenue. Given the gentrified nature of most Midwestern cities, I treasure any place that maintains a unique and diverse character in the face of corporate pressure.

That’s not to say that it’s some sort of ethnic wonderland. Cedar-Riverside is a real area with real problems, but simply ignoring them or glossing over the area as “beyond hope” only makes them worse. There are solutions, but the first step is accepting that most assumptions about the area are just plain wrong. Take, for example, the way that many citizens link the influx of east Africans to rising crime. This
perception currently focuses on rumors of Somali gangs roaming the streets of Cedar-Riverside, however, “most Somalis that we’ve arrested for violent crimes in the neighborhood did not live in [Cedar-Riverside], some did not even live in the city,” Luther Krueger, a crime prevention specialist for the Minneapolis Police Department said. This false perception has been problematic since Cedar-Riverside became a destination for the large influx of East African immigrants to the Twin Cities in the 1990s. The number of “Black or African American residents” increased more than 230 percent from 1990 to 2000 according to 2000 Census data, however the perceived crime associated with the group is largely unfounded.

A May 14th Cedar-Riverside public safety meeting also highlighted other issues facing the area. Gang violence, underage drinking and poor police response to recent murders in the area - including Somali teen Abdullahi Abdi and, more recently, Joseph Sodd III – were among the issues discussed, according to The Bridge. The conclusion reached by the end of the meeting was that more communication, collaboration
and education are needed to solve these problems.

Coincidentally, that’s exactly what the student population needs to do: let go of its misperceptions, do some research and take an interest in helping the community that they live in. Sure, you could argue that it’s not your community, but it’s an area that will always be linked to campus by proximity and shared interest.

When things go bad for Cedar-Riverside, things tend to go bad for campus and Dinkytown. Furthermore, it is no longer acceptable for students to live in the comfortable bubble that is campus and refuse to participate in city life. We are citizens first and students second and, as such, it is imperative that we do our part to make our city a better place. We’re paying hilariously large amounts of tuition money to feel like we’re the best and brightest, so why don’t we act like it? (I’ve already written about students and community action and blah blah blah before, so I’ll move on. Interested parties can check our archives online.)

Honestly, though, the main reason that I find myself frustrated with Cedar-Riverside’s bad reputation is not the racist stuff, (which is still awful, mind you, and will never fail to raise my proverbial hackles) but rather that it is causing people to abandon the area. With educated young folks - much like yourself, dear reader – ignoring the area completely, the people who are most likely to engage in community action and protect the area are leaving the fate of this vibrant community to the corporate interests and dispassionate
city planners.

You see, while the area has avoided rapacious commercial interest better than Dinkytown, (God rest her soul) a completely different kind of business has started to invade the area.

Within the past year, both the University of Minnesota and Augsburg College have both expanded their presence in the area in ways that are nothing short of intrusive. It seems like only yesterday I was awoken by the explosive sounds of industry that signaled the imminent arrival of the new Carlson building, the U’s enormous, phallic addition to an already overbearingly phallic building. It’s fitting, though, because it’s completely fucked the whole neighborhood.

Augsburg has done its fair share of damage with their newly built, all-purpose complex staking out a block or so of Riverside. They still have further plans to expand their recreational facilities and add a new center for Science, Business and Religion. When you add this to a proposed parking ramp behind Grandma’s, an expansion to Fairview’s Children’s Hospital and the new Light Rail Transit station to be placed beneath 19th avenue, you have to wonder where people are supposed to live, work, eat, exist, etc. When I remember how my old house was completely blocked out the shadows from Carlson’s new death star, I shudder to think what these new expansions will do to the area.

These projects may seem innocuous, but they pose a very real threat to the human and business traffic that sustains Cedar-Riverside. As the area is invaded by colleges and corporations, there will be less room for people to live and enjoy this great area. When you combine this with the crime problem, things get a lot more serious. My fear is that new development will decrease interest in the area and dehumanize that already struggling businesses and residents who call Cedar-Riverside home. This, in turn, will decrease public support for crime prevention measures and long-term plans to rejuvenate the area.

I don’t want the mainstream misperception of Cedar-Riverside to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don’t want this area to become a thinly-veiled ghetto sandwiched between colleges and bus stops. Now is the time for students to take an interest in this area and do what we can to save it. It can be anything from going to meetings and writing letters, to simply taking the time to educate your friends on what this neighborhood really stands for. The moral of this story is that it’s up to us to stop this area from being completely erased by ignorance and negligence. If we don’t stop the deluge, Cedar-Riverside will be a hazy memory buried under parking ramps, college insignias, and empty promises, instead of a part of our shared heritage.