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How this whole mess got started
On Tuesday, August 5th the news leaked. Phones and doorbells rang late into the night and throughout the next day as neighbors alerted neighbors of the few details they were able to gather. There was no controlled dissemination of information. City leadership was utterly nonexistent. The void of official information caused word to spread like an inferno fueled by the winds of anger, betrayal, confusion and disbelief. The one thing that was perfectly clear was that the 18,000 Tulsans who live, work and own businesses in our part of town had been shut out of a decision making process that would determine the future of our property values, economic development, civic identity, perception and perhaps even the personal safety of our children and families.
10 South Yale
Once the news was confirmed, we still found it extremely difficult to believe. Under the auspices of a program designed to evict the homeless from downtown — Building Tulsa, Building Lives (BTBL)— a small board led by elite wealthy Tulsans assigned by Mayor Taylor had quietly selected our neighborhood as the site of a $7 million+, four-story public housing mega facility intended to provide space for 76 mentally ill and otherwise homeless residents currently residing at the downtown YMCA. Developed by the Tulsa Housing Authority and to be administered by the Mental Health Association, the project is currently known as the 10 South Yale Apartments.
An ironic faux pas that has become an ominous allegory of the entire project is that 10 South Yale is actually located at (10) north Yale. This is a small but highly significant detail underscoring the perplexing lack of study and confusing string of logic that went into locating this facility. It also typifies the Housing Authority's unwillingness to admit they may not always be right. Adding to the irony is that much of the neighborhood's concerns about the homeless are echoed by the basic philosophy of BTBL, which is that downtown cannot reach its full potential without relocating the homeless (http://buildingtulsabuildinglives.com/buildingtulsa/). BTBL's own portrait of homelessness and the impact they have on quality of life and economic development adds additional layers of doubt to those already introduced by their blatant lack of community involvement in the process. Return to top
Institutional dishonesty
A plausible explanation of exactly who will be living at 10 South Yale has been, for lack of a better term, elusive. BTBL's published information and the public sentiments of their supporters have painted potential residents as people who will harm economic development by creating an environment that is not "inviting and family-friendly" (http://buildingtulsabuildinglives.com/buildingtulsa/) and the facility itself as a place that "no one would want in their neighborhood." Since the onslaught of opposition, however, their descriptions have magically evolved into a facility that will supposedly bring an economic boost to our area, a pseudo-retirement village that mixes full rent apartments with housing for veterans, elderly and the disabled. No explanation has been offered to explain why, if that's the case, THA felt it was necessary to keep such a positive development out of the public eye. This unanswered question, and dozens of others like it, are indicative of the string of inconsistencies between the published goals of BTBL's high-minded intentions and the application of Tulsa Housing Authority's tremendous power over an inadequately represented citizenry. Return to top
Awaking the sleeping giant
The first opportunity we had to publicly voice our sentiments was at the August 7th, 2008 city council meeting. Concerned citizens were greeted by their District 4 councilor, Eric Gomez, who actually argued against his own constituents. District 3 councilor, David Patrick, simply didn't show up. Despite having prior knowledge of the project, neither councilor advised their own constituents of the plan.
As the meeting progressed we were exposed to snide elitist whispers from the crowd bolstered by scoldings from the podium that assumed our opposition to the project was rooted in ignorant fear and hatred of the mentally ill. They implied we should trust the Housing Authority enough to build the place so could see how great 10 S. Yale will look. For the record, we're not nearly as concerned about what it will look like as we are about what the entire area will be like for the next 30 years. With feathers like 61st and Peoria stuck firmly in their hats, you would think THA's board members would have the humility to appreciate the fact that in the event the best of intentions eventually go wrong, the surrounding homeowners bear 100% of the risk.
The sleeping giant of opposition was ultimately awoken when Ruth Kaiser Nelson, a woman who by all accounts is one of Tulsa's most generous and altruistic citizens, announced with definitive authority, "This facility will be built." She admitted that these facilities would meet opposition anywhere so even had she known the feelings of the affected neighborhoods their concerns would not have been a factor in the decision of where to locate. Return to top
The creation of Who Owns Tulsa?
In the aftermath of that bewildering night, we realized that this was a much larger problem than a single housing project and that our issue reaches well beyond the affected neighborhoods near the project. We found ourselves as a group of average, low-to-middle income Tulsans facing a tight contingency of millionaire philanthropists who enjoy the unwavering support of Mayor Taylor and other enraptured government representatives all of whom have become so centrally focused on their vision for downtown that the rest of us have simply become voiceless pawns to be sacrificed as necessary in the completion of their social constructs. The theme of Who Owns Tulsa? quickly surfaced as the pervasive question in our own neighborhood meetings.
Anyone who knows Tulsa's history also knows that the inherent greatness of our city is directly tied to a century of unrivaled generosity and the civic pride of patriarchal names like Skelly, Phillips and Gilcrease. Our current conundrum as average citizens is how to show a genuine gratitude to our current philanthropists like the Lobeck-Taylors, the Zarrows and the Kaisers yet remind them that civic generosity should not be used to purchase civic power. Genuine generosity is the act of a servant, not an overlord. All political rhetoric aside, Tulsa is very literally slipping down a path to oligarchy. Our story offers frightening and undeniable evidence of this fact. Return to top
The Mission of Who Owns Tulsa
Who Owns Tulsa? is a non-partisan citizen's rights coalition endeavoring to increase government accountability, and ensure citizen input by unifying neighborhoods, businesses, churches and other concerned citizens. As partners in the process, Who Owns Tulsa? is committed to identifying solutions that involve all citizens equally.
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