Whitest City in America: A Smaller Black Community’s Experience of Gentrification, Displacement, and Aging in Place

Abstract

Background and Objectives

The influx of people with higher socioeconomic status into large Black communities is well documented; less is known regarding smaller, aging Black communities. Older Black adults in Portland, Oregon, among America’s fastest gentrifying cities with the smallest metropolitan Black population, discussed barriers to healthy aging. Perspectives centered on the experience of gentrification, displacement, and its impact on social microsystems, place security, and aging in place.

Research Design and Methods

One-time focus groups engaged 41 Black adults aged at least 45. A demographic survey included residence area/duration. Discussions were thematically coded. Ecological Systems Theory guided interpretation.

Results

The majority of participants resided within gentrifying historically Black neighborhoods (89.2%), were aged at least 65 (54.6%), and lived in their neighborhood for at least 21 years (24.3%). Emergent discussion themes were rise and fall of Black ownership, displacement, race-related stress, and financial burden. Gentrification contributed to the dismantling of Black property ownership curated over generations, increased financial burden, and threatened place security. Physical displacement strained social networks, diminishing intergenerational neighborhood ties that supported aging in place. Cultural and physical displacement weakened the sense of social cohesion and belonging and induced race-related stressful interactions with new residents within original and relocation neighborhoods.

Discussion and Implications

Gentrification in the Pacific Northwest echoes national trends, uprooting critical close-proximity social networks and deteriorating motivation to engage in neighborhood-based social activity. Smaller, aging Black communities may be particularly vulnerable to these effects, which critically affect aging in place. Data inform researchers and policymakers to better understand how gentrification affects smaller, aging Black communities.

African American, Ecological Systems Theory, Neighborhood change, Place security, Social cohesion

Gentrification is “the process by which central urban neighborhoods that have undergone disinvestments and economic decline experience a reversal, reinvestment, and the in-migration of a relatively well-off middle and upper middle-class population” (Smith, 1998, p. 198). It has also been understood as a racial phenomenon because of the disproportionate effect on people of color (Kirkland, 2008). Predictors of likelihood of gentrification include a concentration of people with lower socioeconomic status (SES), adjacency to high-income neighborhoods, proximity to downtown, population density, and retail development, particularly boutiques, coffee shops, and craft breweries (Flanagan et al., 2016; Guerrieri et al., 2013; Walker & Miller, 2019; Zukin, 2009). Such gentrification-oriented retail spaces embody cultural symbols that both reflect new middle-class clientele and attract more of the same as residents (Flanagan et al., 2016; Zukin, 2009). Studies that have observed gentrification suggest that racially mixed neighborhoods, particularly those that are over 40% Black, appear most attractive to retail and residential investors and to middle-class White residents (Hwang & Sampson, 2014). In such neighborhoods, long-term Black residents largely view gentrification-oriented retail spaces as exclusionary and culturally incongruent, while long-term White residents believe they enhance the community (Proulx et al., 2020; Sullivan & Shaw 2011; Versey, 2018).

Gentrification-related physical displacement of long-term residents compounds cultural shifts and leaves remaining residents with a sense of cultural displacement, when the “norms, behaviors, and values of the new resident cohort dominate and prevail over the tastes and preferences of long-term residents” (Zukin, 2009). Cultural displacement has been associated with the gentrification-related dispossession of Black spaces and familiar community aspects, known as “root shock” (Fullilove, 2001) and the erasure of Black spaces “that cultivate inclusion, belonging, and ownership among Black people” (Versey et al., 2019, p. 11). Davidson and Lees (2010) call for a phenomenological lens to understand “structures of feeling” and the “emotional geographies” of bereavement associated with displacement, particularly among older adults (p. 403), and Gibbons & Barton (2016) posit that the subtle effects of cultural displacement rather than physical displacement may be more detrimental to health for low-income residents of color (p. 919-920).

The Center for Disease Control (2013) identifies gentrification as a public health issue because of its effects on stress and mental health. Although it has long been recognized that older adults, most with fixed incomes, are uniquely vulnerable to the financial effects of gentrification (Henig, 1981), up until 2020, there was no systematic assessment of the health impact of gentrification, and relatively few studies focus specifically on older adults (Schnake-Mahl et al., 2020). While there remains a need for reliable measures of the direct negative health effects, indirect effects of gentrification on health have been shown, particularly among Black and economically vulnerable residents (Smith et al., 2020). For example, gentrification tends to decrease access to affordable healthy food (Breyer & Voss-Andreae, 2013) and increases stress, anxiety (Gibbons, 2019; Sullivan & Shaw, 2011), and depression among long-term older residents (Smith et al., 2018). Gentrification can also prompt feelings of social exclusion among older adults (Burns et al., 2012). Neighborhood reinvestment rarely serves long-term older adults as targeted clientele, and policies meant to protect long-term residents in gentrifying areas often marginalize older adults by centering families, children, and employment and ignoring older adults’ contributions to a neighborhood’s social fabric (Perry et al., 2021).

Most gentrification scholarship has focused on cities with large Black populations (Gibbons & Barton, 2016; Hwang & Sampson, 2014; Zukin, 2009). Less understood are implications for aging in place among smaller, older Black populations, bringing generalizability into question (Gibbons et al., 2018, p. 2). The impact of gentrification on aging in place may be particularly problematic in the Pacific Northwest, home to smaller Black populations that reside in Black cultural deserts because of the lack of nearby Black American hubs with familiar sociocultural norms and networks. Oregon’s Black population in Portland is 2% and just 6% in the state overall (U.S. Census Bureau, 2018). Dubbed “The Whitest City in America” (Badger, 2015) with a 77% White population, Portland is ranked among America’s fastest gentrifying cities with 58.1% of eligible tracts gentrified since 2000 (Governing, 2015). Years-long processes of inequitable planning led to gentrification-related displacement, decentralizing the relatively small Black population (Bates, 2019; Gibson, 2007), straining community ties that historically coalesced to support social networks critical for successful aging in place.

Theoretical Framework

Ecological systems theory (Figure 1) posits that human development is the result of enduring transactions between an individual and nested, interrelated social systems and must be understood within the chronosystem (time period), including sociohistorical events affecting vast populations (Bronfenbrenner, 1979; Greenfield, 2012). The outermost social system, the macrosystem, encompasses ideologies and cultural constructs of the larger society. These influence the smaller exosystem—the economy, politics, organizations, and institutions indirectly affecting individuals. The microsystem—family, peers, school, workplace, faith community, neighborhood, and services and their interrelationships (the mesosystem)—directly affects individuals. Across the United States, a history (chronosystem) of racist ideology (macrosystem) manifested in discriminatory redlining and mortgage-lending practices (exosystem), influencing demographics (Woods, 2012). In Portland, Oregon, these practices resulted in a majority-White city with clustered, majority-Black neighborhoods, where neighbors, peers, businesses, services, and faith communities (microsystem) became tightly knit and interdependent (mesosystem) to survive. Gentrification in Portland, and arguably elsewhere, is a product of macrosystem capitalist and classist ideologies. An exosystemic byproduct is rising property values and the concomitant displacement and disruption of social microsystems—family, long-trusted neighbors, the wider Black community, and access to familiar health services. Social environments shape the ability to which older adults can function over time and are critical for healthy aging and aging in place (Gibson, 2007; Greenfield et al., 2012; Versey et al., 2019).

Figure 1.

Ecological Systems Theory (Bronfenbrenner, 1979), applied to gentrification in Portland, Oregon.

The purpose of this article is to examine gentrification among older Black Americans aging in place in “The Whitest City in America.” Participants in the current study spent most of their lives within a supportive microsystem, where residents shared physical proximity and sociocultural and political histories, facilitating strong social connectedness across the life course. Results from this study have important implications for smaller, minoritized aging communities.

Design and Methods

Design

Focus groups solicit in-depth perspectives, perceptions, beliefs, attitudes, and experiences (Then et al., 2014) and are thus an appropriate method for this exploratory study to understand barriers to healthy aging as identified and experienced by older Black adults in a majority-White city. Five focus groups, 6–11 participants each, were sufficient to reach code and meaning saturation, which was determined using established criteria: quotes fitting primary codes and subcodes came from all five groups and from half to three fourths of participants per group, and by the second half of the fifth focus group, no new data surfaced that merited new codes or subcodes (Hennink et al., 2019). A lower age limit of 45 was selected to capture perceived barriers to healthy aging, given the high prevalence of chronic conditions in midlife and suggestions of accelerated aging among African Americans (Levine & Crimmins, 2014).

Setting

Discussions were held in North Portland’s historically Black neighborhoods: the Urban League of Portland (n = four groups) and the Q Center serving Portland’s LGBTQ2SIA+ communities (n = 1 group; nine participants). Representation from Portland’s older Black LGBTQ2SIA+ community was intentionally sought to narrow gaps in aging literature for this population.

Recruitment

Working with the Urban League of Portland and PreSERVE Coalition for African American Memory and Brain Health, 41 Black adults aged at least 45 residing in metropolitan Portland were recruited using paper and digital flyers, through informational tables at Black health-centered events, and through PreSERVE’s networks.

Data Collection

Moderators were qualitatively trained master’s and PhD-level researchers, social workers, and members of Portland’s Black community. A demographic survey queried standard variables and residence area/duration to understand the impact of gentrification on aging in place within original and relocation neighborhoods. Open-ended, semistructured prompts guided hour-long discussions. Moderators broadly queried barriers, subsequently probing participant-introduced barriers, like gentrification, to facilitate participant-driven frameworks of meaning and to avoid prompting responses to fit within researcher-assumed frameworks of meaning. Exit questions checked if moderators accurately understood participant responses (Then et al., 2014, p.18). Two team members noted gestures or intonations transcription would miss. Discussions were digitally recorded and anonymized. Participants were compensated with $25 store vouchers. Oregon Health & Science Internal Review Board (IRB00015445) approved the study.

Analysis

Coding was completed using Atlas.ti 7.0 qualitative software. Grounded theory and thematic analysis guided the organization of data into data-driven, common threads of meaning or codes (Charmaz, 2009). Moderator guides and participant responses informed codes. Two qualitatively trained researchers in social work (Linda Boise, deceased) and anthropology (R. Croff, author) independently coded Transcript 1 for recurrent themes, then compared coding. An iterative, comparative process formed initial codes and definitions, applied them to remaining transcripts, and subsequently expanded, collapsed, or added codes to reflect new data. Transcripts were again exchanged and recoded. Discrepancies were resolved by revisiting or revising established code definitions until coders reached an agreement.

Results

Demographics

Thirty-nine of 41 participants completed demographic surveys (Table 1). The majority were female (66.67%), aged 57–66 (35.90%), not partnered (64.01%), and lived alone (36.00%) or with one person (36.00%). All graduated high school; 56.41% had bachelor’s/master’s degrees. The majority were retired (not working/not able to work; 48.72%) or employed/self-employed (43.59%), not caring for anyone in their home (87.18%), and were not receiving care (89.74%). Most yearly household incomes were $20,000–39,999 (38.46%). Participants resided largely within historically Black neighborhoods (Table 2; 89.19% of n = 37 responses), most (54.55%) aged at least 65, of whom half had lived there at least 21years.

Table 1.

Demographic Survey Results (N = 39)

Variable	N	%
Gender
Female	26	66.67
Male	13	33.33
Transgender	—	—
Age (years)
47–56	11	28.21
57–66	14	35.90
67–76	9	23.07
77–86	5	12.82
Marital status
Married	14	35.90
Widowed	9	23.07
Divorced	8	20.51
Separated	4	10.26
Never married	4	10.26
Education
Master’s degree	11	28.21
Bachelor’s degree	11	28.21
Associate’s degree	7	18.00
Some college, no degree	8	20.51
High school—diploma	2	5.13
Employment
Retired	16	41.03
Retired and self-employed	1	2.56
Retired and unable to work	3	7.70
Employed for wages	6	15.39
Employed for wages/self-employed	1	2.56
Self-employed	10	25.64
Out of work and looking for work	1	2.56
No response	1	2.56
Yearly household income ($)
<10,000	4	10.26
10,000–19,999	5	12.82
20,000–29,999	7	17.95
30,000–39,999	8	20.51
40,000–49,999	—	—
50,000–59,999	4	10.26
60,000–69,999	1	2.56
70,000–79,999	5	12.82
80,000–89,999	—	—
90,000–99,999	2	5.13
Unknown	2	5.13
Caring for relatives/others in the same home
Yes	5	12.82
No	34	87.18
Cared for by someone living in the same home
Yes	3	7.70
No	36	92.31
Cared for by someone living in a different home
Yes	1	2.56
No	38	97.44
Number currently in household
One/live alone	14	36.00
Two	14	36.00
Three	9	23.08
Four	2	5.13
≥Five	—	—

Table 2.

Years at Current Portland Area^a Residence by Age Group (N = 37)^b

Years	North/Northeastc		Southeast		Other Oregon area
	Age 45–64	≥65	45–64	≥65	45–64	≥65
	N %
≤9	9 (24.32)	3 (8.10)	—	2 (5.41)	1 (2.70)	—
10–20	6 (16.21)	6 (16.21)	—	—	1 (2.70)	—
≥21	—	9 (24.32)	—	—	—	—

^aNo participants lived in Southwest or Northwest Portland.

^bFour of N = 41 total participants had no/incomplete responses and were not counted.

^cArea of historically Black neighborhoods.

Focus Group Findings

We report four themes: (a) rise and fall of Black ownership, (b) displacement, (c) race-related stress, and (d) financial burden (Figure 1). Black ownership contextualizes subsequent themes that captured how gentrification affects older adults’ perceptions of place security and aging.

Rise and fall of Black ownership

This theme addresses attaining, maintaining, and losing home and business ownership and licensure amidst discriminatory lending practices.

Housing.

—Participants had strong shared memory of parents’ efforts, establishing Portland’s small, highly interdependent Black community amidst systemic, overt racism:

[My parents] said, okay, this isn’t going to be Texas. We are going to fight. We had protest marches and everything. My parents took us to NAACP meetings in the basement of churches … They were talking about the issues of the day, because the church was the place where we could go to. All the churches were connected. [Group 3, R5]

Despite rampant racism, participants’ parents’ financial integrity facilitated property ownership within the redlined cluster of joined neighborhoods, anchoring Portland’s small Black community:

My dad worked two jobs like most Black people … my mother worked one … so they had good credit … But when they went to purchase any house, the realtor would always come up with “the house is sold.” So [my dad] ended up having to go through a private owner. And they went through the neighborhoods looking for “for sale” signs that didn’t have a realtor logo on it. And that’s how they were able to buy the house. [Group 4, R3]

Black families faced displacement in the 1960s with unfair compensation for hard-earned homes, “… the freeway came and took out [our home] … they were giving people pennies for their house.” Many participants felt strongly that waves of displacement in the 1960s and 1990s to present was a deliberate, city-sanctioned strategy to disinherit Portland’s Black community. Systematic refusal of home improvement loans rendered older nineteenth- and twentieth-century homes vulnerable to “blight,” contributing to devaluation or home seizure: “You had to move homes. Who got to fix their homes up? They could not get money from [City entity name] … That racism is what caused the problem.”

While participants’ parents had strong financial values—paying cash for homes and frugal living with a “building-for-the-future mindset”—participants felt adult children of their era had not learned those lessons:

A $14,000 house, right … families had houses. Parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts. And when they became deceased, the children, unfortunately, maybe not aware of what the results were going to be because nobody can see the future. But $14,000 to $50,000 looks pretty good. But they didn’t see fifty [thousand] to five hundred [thousand]. They didn’t see that number, right. So they took the house and sold it … moved out, bought something … probably not something good for them. But the money is gone. [Group 5, R2]

Properties were sold cheap to be flipped or demolished and replaced with housing targeting higher SES demographics. One participant’s siblings who inherited the family home “didn’t understand the importance of maybe doing a little fixing up and keeping it.” According to the participant, the house sold for $395,000; with moderate renovations, it sold for nearly $1,000,000. One participant with real-estate experience voiced frustration over the uneducated and mal-influenced loss of Black-owned capital that was the “goldmine” of the inner city:

Black people didn’t want to buy this real estate. They’d tell you. “I want to buy in Park Rose.” “I want to buy in Gresham.” They did not know they were sitting on a goldmine … as the land goes so does the neighborhood. So that’s what gentrification is all about, who’s buying up the land. We’re not doing it. We, as a race, are not buying up property that’s due them. [Group 2, R8]

Home loss diminished intergenerational ties that strengthened community cohesion and a sense of belonging, “I knew the house. I knew the folks. I knew their parents. I knew their grandparents. And they were going to pass the house [on]. And we all know stories like that.” Additionally, 1990s gang violence and heightened media about it rendered outer-lying areas attractive despite their lack of diversity and inaccessibility to familiar inner-city services and community spaces. Black American attitudes shifted about staying in Portland’s historically Black neighborhoods, with their years-long decay from city disinvestment:

We were made ashamed that we lived in Northeast Portland, because they tried to make it feel like all the gangs were here. All the drugs were here. All the killings and shootings were here. And so people felt like … “when I’ve achieved certain things, I’ll move out of Northeast Portland” because the idea they had put on us … I had people question me. “Oh, you still live in Northeast Portland? Oh, I thought you had moved from there.” Yeah, the tone in their voice let them know that, well, “I thought you were successful now. What are you still doing living in Northeast Portland?” [Group 2, R1]

Businesses.

—Participants described collaborative efforts to build business districts and the systematic denial of loans:

When I was [high-ranking position] of the [name] Neighborhood Association back in ’89, we start cleaning up Alberta street. And I said, “Oh, it would sure be nice if we can have Alberta look similar to Hawthorne [a thriving boulevard in a majority-White area].” I had no idea that would happen [with gentrification]. So [Black people] had all kinds of business up and down Alberta. Am I right? [City entity name] would not give us loans. [Group 2, R2]

One participant’s friend “tried for years to get a liquor license.” Upon selling his business, the new White owner “had a liquor license in the first year.” Participants saw the Black business scene as “a thing of the past,” though “now everybody and their mamma can get a liquor [license].”

You got Black businesses … that went out of business because of concerted efforts, racist efforts, by the City and policies implemented … that kept you from fixing the roof on your house, fixing the porch on your house, getting a liquor license to run your business. [Group 2, R6]

The loss of businesses once financially stabilizing the Black community now funded destabilizing processes enabling economic and ultimately physical displacement of Black Americans:

My parents had a business. And [Name]’s parents had a business. In the 50s, a dollar would go around our community seven times. Now it goes from our pockets straight to the Man’s pocket because he destroyed our ability to develop independent wealth, as well as to maintain businesses, by design. [Group 4, R1]

The culmination—discontinuous wealth-building—rendered the Black community in a continuous state of starting over:

What you have in Black communities is perpetual start over. Every generation starts over. We don’t pass down wealth like other races. We don’t have wills … White folks have living trusts. Basically, when your property is in probate … it puts all the creditors on alert … when parents pass, they’ll generally have a favorite offspring who’s the person in charge who, a lot of times, is not the business person of the family. [Group 4, R9]

Displacement

This theme addresses cultural disconnect with the new demographic’s norms, values, and sociohistorical backgrounds and gentrification-related physical displacement.

Cultural displacement in gentrifying areas.

—Cultural displacement and resulting cultural incongruence with the new demographic were stressful for participants, whether staying in gentrifying neighborhoods or relocating. For those remaining in Portland’s changing Black neighborhoods, incongruence was underpinned by grief over the loss of the Black community: “You knew the different families … Well now, the neighborhood has gone.” Participants experienced conflict with newcomers, speaking to a wide culture gap between new, White middle-class neighbors and longstanding Black residents. Anger, frustration, and disbelief at community loss prevailed:

I was looking at the prices of homes for sale, $400,000 … it really made me upset … These used to be Black people on this street … now, they’re young White families. And it was about five years ago. That was very disturbing to see. [Group 5, R2]

Physical and cultural displacement in relocation areas.

—Displaced participants described “getting lost” in relocation areas and adjusting to new demographics: “When we moved out there, things were different … We have lots of White neighbors, but not very many Black neighbors. But those we have, they’re fine … we’re in a little group out there.” Relocation to outlying areas decreased social connectedness and increased isolation: “When we were growing up [Black people] just saw each other at school, at church, at the Salvation Army. I mean some place we saw each other. We knew what was happening. And now, that it’s just more dispersed ….” Concerns surfaced about mental health as loved ones living outside Portland age and experience diminished social connection, “They’re isolating. They’ve become reclusive. Because as we get older, that’s not good.”

Connecting to original neighborhood social outlets and services was difficult with inadequate public transit, transportation costs, and poor service utilization, like public door-to-door ride programs that many people did not know how to use, having formerly relied on walking, neighbors, and close-by family for transportation. Sense of community was lacking in relocation areas due partially to transportation and walkability barriers, and lack of concerted efforts by relocation cities to meet displaced residents’ needs:

The cost of transportation to come from [relocation city] is going up steadily … So even if you have connecting family or connecting with your sense of community … what’s in your community that’s important, it’s hard to even connect … We’re survivors as people. And we are going to try to connect as much as we can … But as far as [city names] looking for ways to include and address the needs of the African American community, absolutely not … Those communities are not giving the African American community a sense of, first, wanting them out there and certainly not wanting to meet their needs. [Group 2, R6]

Participants wished Black Americans had greater roles in city meetings and wanted daytime meetings to encourage older adult participation. Ultimately, participants felt unwelcomed in outlying areas: “It takes a while for you to get your footing. And when people are saying, ‘Hey, yeah, you’re here. But I really don’t want you here,’ that’s a struggle.” Many acknowledged that replicating the sense of belonging left behind might be years away:

If you shove me out of my neighborhood, why should I have to gravitate to a place? What happened was not right. What happened was blatant racism. And so you are naturally not going to feel a sense of connect with that. And you may not for a number of years. [Group 2, R6]

They wanted this community. They wanted the Black community out of it. They did everything in their power to achieve that … the result you have is the Whitest City in America. [Group 4, R1]

Race-related stress

This theme addresses the burden and anxiety from racial discrimination.

Service.

—Walking into businesses and services as a Black person in gentrified or relocation areas sometimes initiated confrontational discourse and inadequate treatment. Participants widely agreed that sophisticated appearance or speech sometimes exacerbated situations because they felt White people perceived them as acting “out of place.” Dismissive or inadequate treatment was so frequent, some participants came to expect it, preparing to demand respect though needing to “get ready” was a burden:

I don’t put a mask on when I go in to deal with any of this … But what’s going to happen … is that you are going to respect me. You don’t want to have to go in with that … but if that’s what’s going to get you to get the services you need, that you deserve … then that’s what’s going to happen. [Group 4, R4]

A sense of hopelessness pervaded that Black agency is not enough; local experiences are symptomatic of national racist and classist experiences: “It doesn’t matter how well I’m dressed or how well I speak, if I’m poor, if I’m Black in America, the bottom line is that I’m going to get treated like that. That’s just the reality of things.”

Financial burden

This theme addresses the ability to age in place as gentrification increases property taxes, cost of living, and displacement of social supports.

Place security and aging in place.

—Most (89%) participants lived in Portland’s gentrifying historically Black neighborhoods. Childless participants particularly expressed concerns, though by no means unique to aging in place in gentrifying areas, “My sister helps. But still it’s kind of scary … Who’s going to take care of us?” Participants did not explicitly state how gentrification-related displacement of familiar neighbors, friends, and family contributed to concerns about aging in place, but participants in all groups nodded in agreement to comments about marked absences due to affordability, like “family members have moved out of the neighborhood, trying to get back and they can’t afford to,” and “Look at the number of people who have moved over to Vancouver [Washington] … the inflation … all the urban planning … They were sort of forced out.”

What was clear, however, was that the greatest impediment to aging in place in current homes or neighborhoods was gentrification-related financial insecurity:

Gentrification. Gentrification. That’s my problem, gentrification. So it’s hard for me to get a place here, around here where I’d like to stay. I’d like to stay in the North side of town. But I can’t. [Group 5, R1]

So we are now an extended family living situation … The house accommodates everybody. But that’s the only way I can afford to live in this neighborhood, because I was looking at what’s going to happen if the house sells? [Group 5, R2]

Increased property taxes rendered social security and pensions insufficient: “You paying for everything they’re fixing out there. And it’s almost going to run you out your house because you’ve got to save your money for the taxes … I don’t want to give them my home and I ain’t about to.”

Participants who could stayed in gentrifying areas partly because of neighborhood walkability to familiar resources:

The land might be cheaper [in relocation areas]. But guess what? The transportation cost, gasoline. When you want to go to the movies, you have to come Downtown or go to Lloyd Center. When you want a haircut, you have to go up on Alberta. See, all that is costing more money. I can walk to my barber shop. I can walk to church. [Group 2, R3]

Participants’ decisions affected their adult children, who may have increased care and support responsibilities or emotional connection to the family home: “[Your adult children] tell you, please, don’t ever sell this house. This is like the place we want to come back to always.” Most participants desired to remain home, many preemptively adapting financially, “finding ways to live below your means” and “do[ing] more with less by being a little more proactive.” Managing without state help was a source of pride, but many participants feared their homes might be seized:

I worked hard when I was raising my kids … grandchildren and great-grandchildren … didn’t ask the state for nothing … I feel … if I had to go into a nursing home, see, they would take my house. They would take your house [pointing to others]. They just better shoot me and put me in a graveyard, because I’m going to fight. [Group 1, R6]

Participants felt their voices were absent in policy arenas and that policies influencing neighborhood affordability were lacking: “We don’t really have a voice … even when we give a voice, I’m not saying there’s really much of a response to that voice we have, a lot of times. We’re sort of looked over, passed over, ignored.”

Another participant desired to continue working for positive social change:

I’m from the 60s, you know. And I believe in movement. And I believe in action. And I believe in dealing with things, in order for it to make a change, because we don’t make a change in anything without us fighting for that … aging in Oregon and being Black in Oregon is something that I’m quite conscious of … And I’m going to remain conscious in order for me to not just survive, but in order for me to live. [Group 4, R10]

As family dynamics changed, or gentrification displaced family, participants curated community-based, nonkin relationships across generations and with their peers:

We have built relationships with other young folks in the community that become part of our extended family in which we spend way more time with now than we do our own family … I’m thinking we’re going to rely on some of those relationships, as we get older. [Group 5, R3]

Place security, aging in place, and maintaining quality of life were tightly linked: “Quality of life for me is having living conditions, environment, a sense of safety about me in the community, the neighborhood and affordability … basic things, like utilities … being able to afford them.” Access to resources, energy assistance, transportation, and affordable groceries were important. Participants identified specific needs for successfully aging in place: home maintenance, home adaptation services (like installing shower grab-bars), better community resource information, and education about aging, medical bills, and estate and end-of-life planning. Barriers to services included limited availability and supplies and inequitable geographic service distribution.

Health challenges compounded feelings of being unsettled and “floundering” amidst overwhelming life events, like parental loss and home repairs. Ultimately, age-related changes and financial vulnerability prompted increased pressure to move from longstanding family homes into houses or apartments closer to the displaced family: “My kids have already said, ‘Okay Mom, we know that when you get to be a certain age, you’ve got to live with one of us’.”

Discussion and Implications

Focus groups with 41 older Black adults queried local barriers to healthy aging. Most participants lived in Portland, Oregon’s historically Black neighborhoods, lived alone or with a partner, and had household incomes below $40,000. Four themes emerged from discussions: rise and fall of Black ownership, displacement, race-related stress, and financial burden. Overall, themes centered on the gentrification-related displacement of the Black community and how displacement has stretched social networks over greater distances, fraying the cords of interdependence critical for successful aging in place.

Black home and business ownership among participants’ parents’ generation ushered the cultivation of a tightly knit community that fostered belonging, financial stability, and interdependence. However, lack of financial education, misinformation, and years of systematic denial of home improvement loans eventually contributed to property loss. Ultimately, property loss, undervalued sales, and heightened media about 1990s gang violence primed Portland’s historically Black areas for gentrification. Participants found themselves choosing between high taxes to keep their homes and the high social connectivity costs of leaving. Place security meant more than the affordability of one’s house or apartment and extended to the physical neighborhood and the feeling of community within it.

Physical displacement of the Black community and influx of younger, White, and higher SES residents brought cultural displacement for many remaining Black residents. Sense of belonging was replaced with a sense of cultural incongruence, underpinned by grief over community loss and the erasure of familiar spaces of belonging. Cultural incongruence led to race-based discriminatory experiences, prompting some participants to “get ready” for discrimination in services and businesses in gentrified and relocation areas. Sense of connection in relocation areas was particularly lacking, compounded by transportation and walkability barriers, and a sense of not being welcomed by relocation cities. Additionally, participants expressed concern that older adults in these areas were becoming isolated.

Health challenges and financial vulnerability exacerbated uncertainties about aging in place amidst the growing absence of displaced family and familiar community members. Pregentrification, older adults, particularly those without children, had relied on years-long social capital investments to pay out in close-proximity community support to successfully age in place. Now, relationships with new neighbors in original and relocation areas had to start from scratch, at a time when older adults may have less energy and desire to navigate cultural and demographic differences.

Applying an ecological systems theory lens (Figure 1; Bronfenbrenner, 1979) to neighborhood change over time is important to understand the depth of community loss experienced by older Black adults because it recognizes the barriers that their generation and that of their parents’ overcame to establish Black and mixed-race neighborhoods in the first place. Black property ownership amidst Jim Crow in Portland and across the United States was against the odds of macrosystemic ideologies of race and class meant to marginalize Black people and suppress Black wealth-building. Macrosystemic racist beliefs about Black people extended to beliefs and perceptions of Black neighborhoods, which both influenced and were reinforced by White-run media, spotlighting neighborhood decay without reference to the structurally racist barriers supporting it. As Black and racially mixed neighborhoods across the United States have become susceptible to gentrification, long-term residents face displacement or staying in an increasingly culturally incongruent neighborhood. Place security and aging in place become about financial and social means, about the neighborhood-based interrelationships cultivated over time that reinforce identity, belonging, and place.

For older adults, neighborhood-based interrelationships may have been curated for years or across the life span through family, school, work, faith, and service, many in close proximity to where they live. Ecological frameworks of aging recognize proximity as key for supporting older adults’ in-person social interactions and mobility (Levasseur et al., 2015), and that older adults actively contribute to and instigate transactions within their environments (Greenfield et al., 2012). Thus, the gentrification-related physical displacement of older adults into suburbs, family members’ households, and nursing homes contributes to the cultural displacement and to the disruption of social networks for remaining long-term residents. Older adults in our sample desired greater roles at the exosystemic level—in city meetings—to influence decision making that would affect their microsystems and thus their experiences of aging in place. In characterizing aging-in-place initiatives, Greenfield et al. (2012) ask to what extent initiatives engage older adults as environmental change leaders (p. 7).

While Bronfenbrenner (1979) recognizes that socioecological systems are dynamic, the changes that gentrification brings are extensive and ripple through the nested social systems with drastic changes to neighborhood-based supports and to individuals’ interrelationships with them, bringing potentially adverse health effects that can affect older adults’ functioning over time. Dwindling social networks, rising housing costs, cultural displacement, and fears of physical displacement increase depression and anxiety symptoms in older adults aging in place in gentrifying neighborhoods (Smith et al., 2018). Despite improvements in New York City’s Central Harlem, long-term older Black residents perceived their gentrifying neighborhoods as less socially cohesive due to the influx of White people of higher SES and to the displacement of familiar neighbors, friends, and family (Versey, 2018). This is critical because neighborhood social cohesion promotes social activity benefitting older adults’ cognitive health (Tang et al., 2020). Diminished social opportunities contribute to greater depressive symptoms related to faster rates of cognitive decline, whereas social networks have been shown to counter them (Barnes et al., 2004). Cultural displacement has implications for stress and anxiety among Black Americans who already experience high rates of race-related stress and discrimination, negatively affecting the health of Black communities (Williams et al., 2008). As a gentrifying neighborhood’s White population grows, so does racial discrimination toward long-term residents of color (Shmool et al., 2015) and above-average stress (Gibbons, 2019; Sullivan & Shaw, 2011), prompting preparation-for-bias behavior that has been socialized in many Black people since youth (Proulx et al., 2020; Scott et al., 2020). Increased living costs in gentrified neighborhoods, particularly housing, leaves less money for health care, transportation, and other necessities (Kirkland, 2008; Versey et al., 2019). Gentrification may make it harder for retired Black Americans to manage their income and savings and to care for family members living with dementia (Epps et al., 2018), negatively affecting chronic disease management and engagement in preventive measures. Displacement may also disrupt primary care access because of increased costs and complications associated with transportation to clinics, pharmacies, and related services (Lim et al., 2017).

Gentrification is a process that affects multiple, nested social systems, and social connectedness and successful aging in place are directly related: Life-long social investments create social capital from which to draw readily accessible help. This study, however, highlighted four principal ways in which successful aging in place and gentrification are inversely related. (a) Gentrification is a process of city-sanctioned disinvestment starting decades before older adults are physically displaced (Gibson, 2007); successful aging in place is a process of life-long investment—cultivation of social connectedness beginning decades before old age. (b) Successful aging in place is particularly dependent upon the strength and physical proximity of social networks (Levasseur et al., 2015; Versey, 2018); gentrification weakens and physically displaces social networks. (c) Place security and financial stability support successful aging in place (Epps et al., 2018); gentrification destabilizes financial means and creates place insecurity. (d) Social activity, an important marker of overall health (Chang et al., 2014), improves the ability to successfully age in place; gentrification decreases the sense of social cohesion, negatively affecting motivation to engage in neighborhood-based social activity.

Physical and cultural displacement, and the ensuing strain on social connectedness, may be more pronounced for smaller, aging Black communities already living with the everyday intersectionality of being Black and older within majority-White regions. Participant perspectives in this study informed culturally responsive health interventions, including the Sharing History through Active Reminiscence and Photo-imagery study integrating neighborhood walking, social engagement, and oral history in gentrifying neighborhoods (Croff et al., 2019), and the African American Mindfulness Study examining stress reduction (Proulx et al., 2020). Policy work using an ecological systems theory lens that emphasizes the interconnectivity of older adults and the larger social fabric to which they contribute and draw from and may strengthen efforts for affordable housing, retention, and repopulation in gentrifying areas to support successful aging in place.

Limitations

Our sample was small, mostly college educated, relatively young, and largely not caregivers/recipients. One LGBTQ2SIA+ focus group was insufficient to understand the intersectionality of gentrification, health, aging, and issues specific to this community. The initial research question did not focus on gentrification, thus demographic surveys did not collect data about gentrification-related displacement. Findings are largely topical, fitting within the scope of an exploratory study.

Acknowledgments

In memory of Linda Boise, PhD, Department of Neurology at Oregon Health & Science University and co-founder of PreSERVE Coalition for African American Memory and Brain Health. A dedicated advocate for older Black American health, Linda’s mentorship and compassion for the community made a difference. For focus group assistance, we thank Tiffany Kirkpatrick and Midge Purcell. For planning and support, we thank Tameka Taylor and Katie Sawicki. For demographic data preparation, we thank Victoria Agorsah and Vivian Owusu. We are grateful to PreSERVE Coalition and partners, the Urban League of Portland and the Alzheimer’s Association Oregon and SW Washington Chapter, for outreach and collaboration. We thank Jeffrey Kaye, MD and the NIA Layton Aging and Alzheimer’s Disease Center for the continued support of PreSERVE Coalition collaborations, and Jeffrey Proulx, PhD for discussions about ecological systems theory which shaped our thinking about the impact of gentrification. We thank The Gerontologist’s expert reviewers for helping us improve this paper.

Funding

This work was supported by the National Institutes of Health, National Institute on Aging (P30 AG008017).

Conflict of Interest

The authors have no conflicts of interest to declare.