I chose to spend my $10 at the closest corner store, which happens to be one of the only black-owned businesses in my neighborhood. I've lived in the neighborhood for almost 3 years, and I have been to the store maybe 3 times before. Our neighborhood, Piedmont, was designed to be a residential-only, so there are only a few businesses of any kind within walking distance. Piedmont is a pretty mixed-race, mixed-income place, but as in much of North/ Northeast Portland, white upper middle class people are moving in, and black, lower middle class, and poor people are being economically forced out.
When I have gone to the store in the past, most of the shelves have been close to bare, and some of the products are piled on pallets in the middle of the floor. The door has a buzzer; you have to ring the bell and wait to be buzzed in, and the owner sits behind a bulletproof glass shield at the counter. I have not been to any other stores in Portland with this kind of safety system, and it has made me a little wary to go in.
Over the last year, I started taking part in my neighborhood association, which happens to be all other white people, and while we would talk as a group about wanting to resist the gentrification taking place in Portland, when this particular corner store was mentioned it was scoffed at as something that needed to be gotten rid of in the neighborhood. Actually what was said was "nobody goes there." While I had only been there those few times, I pointed out that if this store was one of the only black-owned business in our neighborhood the fact that we as white residents never went there did not mean that nobody went there, and we should think hard about what it means to write off one of the only existing black-owned businesses while simultaneously saying we want to support diversity in our neighborhood.
When I got my One Large $10 I started thinking about where I would want to spend it and I decided that I would try to use it as an excuse to get to know the corner store business and its owner. I went in with the plan to buy some ginger-ale and other things. There were two other customers in the store, young men of color. I looked around and picked out some chow mein noodles, which I normally wouldn’t buy, but they looked good at that moment.
At the counter I reintroduced myself the the owner, since it had probably been at least 9 months since I had come in, and asked him about the history of his store. His name is Steve and he seemed glad to talk. He said his parents had bought the store in 1995, when he was a young adult, and that he had taken over from them a decade ago. He said the buzzer was there because when his kids were young he would often be in the back with them, which connected to the house - unless there were customers in the store. The store used to be at a busy bus stop, but the city moved the bus route blocks and blocks away when they put in the light rail system. A lot of his customer base had been from people getting on and off the bus, so they would come in waves and he could safely be in back with his kids until the bus pulled up and people buzzed the door.
The light rail system is one of the things that Portland touts as making us such a livable city, but this was a good reminder that some of the city’s progressive planning choices have had negative economic and livability impacts for its black community. I bought my stuff, which ended up costing less than $5, thanked Steve and walked home. I was glad with making a plan to split up my money into two visits because that would give me an excuse to chat more with Steve. But since the store barely carries anything I normally eat, I haven’t figured out how to become a regular patron, which is what I would like to do, if just so as to have that little bit of relationship with one of the families who have been in this neighborhood for multiple generations.
The store was closed midafternoon the next time I went, but it opened again that evening. The third time I stopped by, my goal was to buy noodles for dinner, which I had seen on the shelves the other time, and I also bought orange juice, Tabasco sauce, and 3 beers, which cost a little over $10. I stopped in with my partner on our evening dog walk. It took longer than usual for the door to be buzzed open. Steve had been in the back, and said it had been a slow day. When we left, my partner and I agreed to try to stop by the shop for at least a little something once a month.
When I have gone to the store in the past, most of the shelves have been close to bare, and some of the products are piled on pallets in the middle of the floor. The door has a buzzer; you have to ring the bell and wait to be buzzed in, and the owner sits behind a bulletproof glass shield at the counter. I have not been to any other stores in Portland with this kind of safety system, and it has made me a little wary to go in.
Over the last year, I started taking part in my neighborhood association, which happens to be all other white people, and while we would talk as a group about wanting to resist the gentrification taking place in Portland, when this particular corner store was mentioned it was scoffed at as something that needed to be gotten rid of in the neighborhood. Actually what was said was "nobody goes there." While I had only been there those few times, I pointed out that if this store was one of the only black-owned business in our neighborhood the fact that we as white residents never went there did not mean that nobody went there, and we should think hard about what it means to write off one of the only existing black-owned businesses while simultaneously saying we want to support diversity in our neighborhood.
When I got my One Large $10 I started thinking about where I would want to spend it and I decided that I would try to use it as an excuse to get to know the corner store business and its owner. I went in with the plan to buy some ginger-ale and other things. There were two other customers in the store, young men of color. I looked around and picked out some chow mein noodles, which I normally wouldn’t buy, but they looked good at that moment.
At the counter I reintroduced myself the the owner, since it had probably been at least 9 months since I had come in, and asked him about the history of his store. His name is Steve and he seemed glad to talk. He said his parents had bought the store in 1995, when he was a young adult, and that he had taken over from them a decade ago. He said the buzzer was there because when his kids were young he would often be in the back with them, which connected to the house - unless there were customers in the store. The store used to be at a busy bus stop, but the city moved the bus route blocks and blocks away when they put in the light rail system. A lot of his customer base had been from people getting on and off the bus, so they would come in waves and he could safely be in back with his kids until the bus pulled up and people buzzed the door.
The light rail system is one of the things that Portland touts as making us such a livable city, but this was a good reminder that some of the city’s progressive planning choices have had negative economic and livability impacts for its black community. I bought my stuff, which ended up costing less than $5, thanked Steve and walked home. I was glad with making a plan to split up my money into two visits because that would give me an excuse to chat more with Steve. But since the store barely carries anything I normally eat, I haven’t figured out how to become a regular patron, which is what I would like to do, if just so as to have that little bit of relationship with one of the families who have been in this neighborhood for multiple generations.
The store was closed midafternoon the next time I went, but it opened again that evening. The third time I stopped by, my goal was to buy noodles for dinner, which I had seen on the shelves the other time, and I also bought orange juice, Tabasco sauce, and 3 beers, which cost a little over $10. I stopped in with my partner on our evening dog walk. It took longer than usual for the door to be buzzed open. Steve had been in the back, and said it had been a slow day. When we left, my partner and I agreed to try to stop by the shop for at least a little something once a month.
One Large participant: AJ
Name of black-owned business: Abbott Confectioners + The Yellow Corner Store
Location: Greensboro, NC
Race/ethnicity of participant: White
