It’s Time to Rematriate People’s Park
As the sun rises on a cool Berkeley morning, light comes through the trees on the east side of People’s Park, and the dozens of residents slowly wake up and start their daily routine. Among them, a small contingent of students occupy the northeast corner of the park, just feet away from where the California National Guard, Berkeley Police, and UCPD fired live rounds into a crowd of protesters 50 years ago, killing a student named James Rector and injuring dozens more. “Bloody Thursday” triggered a generation-defining movement to protect People’s Park from profit-driven development, and secured Berkeley as the global epicenter of the free speech and peace movements. Now, 50 years later, the University is using the housing crisis and pandemic as cover to destroy one of the most significant historical sites in the city, and one of the last remaining urban green spaces.
In a recent statement, the Chancellor’s Office layed out the case for the development of People’s Park, and the arguments hinge on deeply flawed logic that forces students to choose between two subprime options. For example, the University is currently pausing evictions in People’s Park due to the pandemic, but they are now threatening to resume mass evictions at an unspecified time—a crisis entirely of their own making. They lean into a time-honored tradition of fear mongering, saying that People’s Park is “a locus of extensive criminal activity, much of it violent,” implying that displacing the residents would stop that crime instead of simply exporting it to other parts of the city. This argument was also used by then-governor Ronald Reagan as part of his “law and order” campaign in the lead up to his presidential run, and gave him the political cover to send the California National Guard to Berkeley. The University is dangling the basic needs of students, whether it be housing or safety, over our heads in exchange for their political goals. While it’s clear that the current state of housing in People’s Park is unsustainable, the solution isn’t further criminalization and displacement, but halting the manufactured crisis of development, and providing a realistic pathway to permanent housing for People’s Park residents.
People’s Park has been a political thorn in the University's side for as long as it’s existed. It is a physical, living reminder of the power of collective action, and has successfully prevented the University from cashing in on some of the most valuable land in the country. It’s the legacy of a generation of idealists, committed to keeping the land by and for the people, and who successfully resisted three separate police forces and a public relations onslaught spearheaded by the California government. It’s also one of the few green spaces in the city, a welcome respite from increasingly dense city streets and apartment complexes. By leveraging both the pandemic and the housing crisis to raze over this legacy, the University is hoping to make students choose between their own basic needs and those of disenfranchised communities, when the reality is it doesn’t have to be like this. Housing, social, and environmental justice are not mutually exclusive, but deeply intertwined, and the University has ignored other viable options for housing projects that meet all of these goals.
People’s Park has long been at the center of the housing debate because it feels like the last remaining undeveloped land in the city, but that’s far from the truth. The University owns parcels of land throughout the city that are undeveloped, within walking distance of campus, and already in residential zoning areas, places like the Oxford, Ellsworth, and UNEX parking lots. Developing parking lots prevents displacement, cuts down on administrative burden, and promotes public transportation use. The University already has more than 5,500 parking spaces, and is actively making attempts to reduce demand for them through carpooling permits and public transportation incentives. Why not consolidate lots to where they’re needed most, and convert those near bus stops and BART stations to housing complexes? The Ellsworth Parking structure, for example, is three blocks away from campus and sits on two bus lines. It’s completely illogical as a parking lot, but the perfect location for an apartment complex and has the same size footprint of People’s Park. And with the Berkeley City Council removing parking minimum requirements for new housing projects and exclusionary zoning requirements, the only thing that prevents the University from pivoting to ethical development is their own political tunnel vision. The school could also densify existing residence halls like Clark Kerr or Unit 3, which desperately need renovation anyway. Blackwell Hall and Garden Village were both old parking lots, and now house over 1000 people between them. A better, more ethical way is possible, and the University is ignoring it in favor of destroying their biggest embarrassment of the last 50 years.
But now that we’ve established that developing People’s Park is unnecessary, what should we do with the park, and how should we address the very real issues of poverty and homelessness? The University said in their statement that they have neither the skills nor the resources to provide adequate support for unhoused residents, and their right. Which is why they should give city and county caseworkers free reign in the park to talk to residents and connect them to the services they need. Because People’s Park is still legally UC Berkeley land, it’s hard for city caseworkers to access those communities, a barrier the University maintains by running its own separate social worker program. By opening access to city resources, park residents can take the first step on the pathway to permanent housing, a much more humane and sustainable option than the non-profit shelter system currently being proposed.
The best way to honor the legacy of the founders of People’s Park is not to destroy the site just to leave a lifeless museum in its place. In fact, that’s a distinctly neoliberal, sanitized approach to historic preservation that perverts what People’s Park always has been: living history. The best way to honor that legacy is to continue the dedication to progressive idealism, which is why People’s Park should be donated to the Indigenous women led Sogorea Te' land trust. Sogorea Te's mission is to rematriate Ohlone land to its historical inhabitants, and to restore their sacred relationship with the land. By donating the land, we can protect People’s Park from development indefinitely, preserve one of the last urban green spaces in Berkeley, and take a huge first step toward reparations and social justice with the Ohlone people. Sogorea Te' already has a joint management relationship with the University at the Gill Tract in Albany, and has fostered a vibrant community around food justice, education, and native plant practices. Think about what People’s Park could be when properly cared for: a hub of cultural revitalization, a community led food system, and a center for art, environmentalism, and political action. It’s a future that’s possible when we don’t compromise on progress, but embrace it wholeheartedly.
People’s Park is so much more than half a city block with some trees and tents; it's a living history of resistance, idealism, and justice, something that cannot be found in a museum exhibit or an overpriced, underserviced apartment complex. The very real, very painful reality of homelessness and crime shouldn’t be used to further the criminalization and displacement of Berkeley’s most vulnerable population, when what they really need is a true path to housing and healthcare, something the University has prevented the city from providing to People’s Park residents. The University’s attempt to drive a wedge between students and the homeless by creating a false choice between basic needs and housing justice is an egregious act of political cowardice and cyniscim, and should be met with nothing other than disgust and resistance. The generation of students that benefited from the blood spilled defending People’s Park has an obligation to push the needle of progress further, not to let it fall back. By reamtraiting the land back to its original inhabitants and providing material support to those who need it, we can create our own legacy: one of kindness, idealism, and hope.
You can find out more about the Sogorea Te land trust on their website, and connect with People’s Park activists on their Website.
