In Philadelphia, we have a neighborhood called Society Hill. It is well known for its Federal and Georgian homes, brick sidewalks, and impressive historic buildings.
For most of its history, Society Hill has been a diverse neighborhood. Originally named the Dock Ward, The neighborhood’s convenient location near the Delaware River, the market shambles, and government buildings made it an appealing place for both black and white residents of various social classes.
With the advent of the streetcar and the soon-to-follow streetcar suburbs, the wealthy of Society Hill moved out of this old, crowded neighborhood, leaving a largely working-class, black, and immigrant population. As Philadelphia entered the Industrial Revolution, sweatshops took up residence in the large, former homes of the wealthy. Society Hill became the neighborhood people saved up to escape, preferring the newly built neighborhoods to the West.
By the end of World War II, Society Hill was considered one of the most underserved communities in the city. In the era of urban renewal, Edmund Bacon famously set his sights on the neighborhood, encouraging investment that has turned the neighborhood into one of the wealthiest in the city.
Homes that sold in the 1960s for a few hundred dollars and an agreement to renovate now sell for over a million dollars. Former sweatshops are now luxury apartments and swanky coffee shops.
Arguably, there is a more extensive range of interpretations of this neighborhood by local tour guides than nearly any other part of the city frequented by tourists. In the past, the focus has been nearly exclusively on the success of Edmund Bacon’s urban renewal project.
While many tour guides in Philadelphia have worked hard to diversify their commentary and routes, this part of the city has remained primarily in the realm of the architectural guide, and the industrial past is glossed over at best.
A handful of tour operators and guides have begun to take a broader view of the neighborhood. Last summer, I attempted this with a bus-based tour, training new guides and encouraging returning guides to expand their interpretation of this postindustrial space.
I found that summer guides who chose to interpret Society Hill through the lens of class, race, industrial past, and postindustrial present had to choose their words carefully. Many of the stories of Society Hill, especially the displacement of a predominantly poor black community, touch on the political issues of today. Many travelers are uncomfortable discussing gentrification, class, and race.
I do not know that we ever landed on one catch-all way to manage this interpretation issue. Many guides, especially those who had worked for this company for several summers, quickly dropped the interpretation in favor of the typical unexamined celebration of Edmund Bacon’s plans. Those who continued with the broader interpretation found ways to soften the reality of the neighborhood’s history of displacement.
Often, when we think about the issue of interpreting postindustrial spaces, we think of places that lionize their industrial past. Just as important to consider are places that prefer to obfuscate that past. Finding effective ways of interpreting these spaces is essential to postindustrial discussions.
As you’ve described, heritage sites prompt a variety of responses and are attractors for many different reasons. The social history of the area is one, the architecture another, etc. Each of those themes may/will spontaneously attract an interested population, but not necessarily the same population. One interpretive challenge is facilitating the intersection of the various themes. Another is accepting the diversity as valid and important. Governance typically craves positive reinforcement and is conflict averse, so discussions about the utility of controversy may be in order. So is considering how to engage the underserved and historically disadvantaged persons and populations whose stories are important, valid, which help to complicate understandings of ‘history’, and facilitate their involvement as co-creators of the interpretive project.
I really appreciate this on-the-ground perspective. It reminds me of the many works on related issues like the public history of slavery, or the questions of which, if any, monuments to Black freedom figures are created, and where they are built. As you note, and as Kevin underscores, what capacity for the tougher history do free-choice learners have, and what responsibility do tour guides and others in interpretation and exhibits have to tell that history? Like I saw with Carolee’s post on Chicago, the powerful trend is to pay attention to the shiny, new, (and easier) story of amazing economic progress and feats of architectural beauty – lifestyles of the rich and famous. What is lost, as you rightly note, is the social and industrial history that exposes what’s beneath the gilded exteriors.
What’s interesting to me about this case study is how it throws into relief the fraught relationship between tourism and economic struggle, with which postindustrial interpretation is always grappling. The problem you describe–that most interpretation focuses on the architecture and the role of Edmund Bacon in bringing the neighborhood back to wealth–is also precisely what gives permission for tourism in the first place. The idea of a bus tour through the neighborhood during its “sweatshop” period would feel icky, but since it’s in the past, and the present is, as Greg said, shiny and new, it’s permissible but difficult. I think overcoming that difficulty also necessitates answering the question of how these narratives of urban renewal help provide cover for the injustices of industrial labor practices and gentrification.
Fayge, so much of the controversy that you address is at the core of the High Point project as well, though in slightly different ways. We’ve got a lot to talk about! In the meantime, I wonder about building relationships with the local communities that have heritage in this neighborhood, so that you can potential diversify the audiences that are taking your tours? I’m guessing you may have already done so, but my immediate reaction is that while I agree with Kevin that the hard conversations have to be held, this diversification is just one of the possible ways you could change the demand while also educating your audience.
Fayge, thank you for an illuminating perspective that is a block-by-block take on the contested grounds of memory and commemoration. Echoing several others, these are contested spaces with not only a diversity of residents (present and former) but also of lived experiences. This mosaic of heritages is a constant reminder of interpretation’s role in embracing nuance and thriving in uncomfortable or difficult histories. I really like Sarah’s point about how some narratives silence injustices or even these histories that may make others uncomfortable. In thinking of our final product, I wonder then what we might collectively settle on as the role of interpretation in encountering difficult histories?
Your case statement goes to the heart of so many of the issues this working group has been discussing. I hope our final product will be able to incorporate more detailed takeaways from your efforts at interpreting the industrial past, deindustrialization, and gentrification. Shining a light, historically, on those “places that prefer to obfuscate their past” should be a key goal.
One way some sites might do so would be through a focus on the legacy of toxicity that several group members have brought up. Granted, a tour of chemical dump sites won’t warm the hearts of those who seek the softer interpretation, but difficult history is challenging.
I think the group also briefly mentioned the Tenement Museum as an example of non-traditional interpretation. If we look more closely at that museum’s work, I wonder if we might find some helpful approaches.
I’m also struck by the role of city planning in your case. Historians of city planning are currently devoting serious attention to the displacement brought on by grand plans. The best-known examples are the “Urban Renewal” projects in the mid to late 20th century U.S., but the concept appears much earlier and in many global contexts. Kevin illuminates the historical background of displacement quite effectively in the article he shared with the group.
I’d like to learn more about your work and insights.
I wonder to what extent this part of the neighborhood’s history may have been, at this point, simply forgotten. Unfortunately, attempts to wipe away the sticky parts of history are all too often successful. In the Ed Bacon days, the sticky history was likely purposely brushed under the rug, but at this point, when the public may be more appreciative and curious about the full story of the neighborhood and social dynamics, the challenging angle needs to purposely be daylighted. Telling this side of the story is another way to diversify the audience. I’m glad you’re doing this important work!
The Tenement Museum also jumped to the forefront of my mind here, as did the memorial to the Triangle Fire in NYC. Can’t wait to discuss this case study in person, and hope there’s time to share some perspective from my time in Philly as well.
Society Hill is such an incredible neighborhood. I so appreciate your call to push past the seemingly safe superficiality of gentrification-as-architectural preservation and consider the complexities of industrial labor, displacement, and marginalization in Society Hill’s history. Your study speaks to an challenge that I think is at the core of what can happen when travelers from all over are drawn to a storied place they’ve heard so much about.
Namely, when people visit a city as famous as Philadelphia, they always bring with them a blend of what they have been taught about the city, what they *expect* to see and experience in the city, and what they *want* to see and experience in the city. A tour that either challenges or upends their particular mix of knowledge, expectation, and desire is often met with resistance. You want to engage that resistance with generative conversation. I wonder if there’s an opportunity here to take up the term “Society” in Society Hill? We have talked at length about communities, neighborhoods, audiences, tourists, visitors, travelers, guests, students– all different groupings of people via their relationships to the sites in question. What happens if we add “society” to that list, and is there a point of entry to potentially resistant or hesitant constellations of people and/or narratives?