"Symbols of democracy, pinned up against the coast, outhouse of bureaucracy, surrounded by a moat, citizens of poverty are barely out of sight, overlords escape in the evening with people of the night. Morning brings tourists, peering eyes and rubber necks, to catch a glimpse of the cowboy making the world a nervous wreck. It’s a mass of irony for all the world to see, it’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C."

-Gil Scott Heron

Historically slaves in Washington D.C. were emancipated on April 16, 1863, nine months before President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. The population of ex-slaves remained in the District of Columbia, creating some of the largest thriving black communities in the country. Once home to Duke Ellington and many African American social clubs and theaters, U-street was known as the nation's “Black Broadway.” Unfortunately, in the past decade over 40,000 African Americans have left the area. From 2010 to 2011, D.C.’s population grew at a rate faster (2.7 percent) than any other state in the United States. The growing population was young white professionals and wealthier people of color. According to racialicious.com, "The white population has increased by 31 percent in the past decade as of 2011, while the black population has decreased by 11 percent."

When I was in Washington D.C. there was a man in overalls dancing his heart out among the gray, dull flow of people. He was a wave of relief, with his headphones on, and a paintbrush in hand. He certainly gave some life to the funeral dirge down H-Street. I started dancing with him from afar in a gesture of appreciation. He quickly returned the gesture by calling both myself and my boyfriend over to him. He placed his headphones over my ears and said, “Listen to what I’m dancing to while I’m painting!” What he was listening to sounded like the Verizon ringtone, but I refrained from mentioning it in an effort not to damper his excitement. While this man, Carlton, spoke to us, a white man came over to watch Carlton dance. We inquired about Carlton's painting while the man took out a cigarette pack and slapped it on top of Carlton’s art. The man said, “Tell me, can you paint this!” For us, this moment with Carlton was an intimate connection with the community and a feeling much like being with your hilarious uncle. To this man Carlton was a joke and nothing but entertainment. My boyfriend and I turned to each other in disgust as we acknowledged the microcosm of the clash of cultures happening on a much larger scale in D.C. We promised Carlton that we would come back and give him cash and moved on.

I deeply wanted to share with him the newspapers that I came across from the 1880s, advertising a part of Hampton, Virginia entitled “Titustown.” It showed a community where a group of newly freed slaves sought out a white lawyer in town known for his interest in bettering black lives. Together, the black men and the white lawyer were able to buy plots of land, anywhere from $500-$1,500, for three to seven bedroom houses. In Titustown all of the black residents owned their homes. How is it that in the 1880’s, African Americans had thriving all black neighborhoods? Today poor folks cannot even afford to rent a home because of increasing property taxes.

After we finished our meal at a restaurant we went back to see Carlton to give him the money that we promised, but nothing was left but his easel and canvases. How can we work towards Washington D.C.’s revitalization while making sure that the Carltons in once flourishing African American neighborhoods don’t disappear?

A link to our time in D.C. is below.