Gentrifier
Gentrifier
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绅士化者
DOI:
10.1177/0094306118792220mm
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发表时间:
2018
期刊:
影响因子:
--
通讯作者:
Chase M. Billingham
中科院分区:
文献类型:
--
作者:
Chase M. Billingham
black schools in integrated neighborhoods so that if black families wanted their children to go to school they had to move to the Eastside neighborhood, where the city intended to segregate and concentrate African Americans. In another example of what may be a new argument to some readers, Rothstein argues that the Internal Revenue Service sanctioned the segregationist activities of churches and universities that promoted racially restrictive covenants through the protection of their taxexempt status. In Los Angeles, a pastor of a church in the city’s Wilshire District sued to remove a black family who had moved to the neighborhood in ‘‘violation’’ of the neighborhood’s restrictive covenant. The pastor lost the lawsuit and was strongly reprimanded for his racism in the court’s ruling. ‘‘Yet,’’ Rothstein writes, ‘‘the IRS took no notice; Reverend Wright’s activities didn’t threaten his church’s tax subsidy’’ (p. 104). As in the second example, some of Rothstein’s cases are acts of omission rather than commission: the failure of police departments to protect black citizens from house bombings when they moved into white neighborhoods; the failure of the Fair Employment Practices Committee to prosecute discriminatory employers contracted by the government during the Second World War; the failure of bank regulators to act on early evidence that blacks were disproportionately being targeted for subprime loans. These are moments when government agencies ‘‘defaulted on their constitutional obligations’’ (p. 113), which Rothstein sees as equally contributing to de jure segregation. The Color of Law foregrounds the argument that racial segregation violates core constitutional principles expressed, primarily, in the Fifth, Thirteenth, and Fourteenth Amendments, and that is why it must be dismantled. But what is missing from the book is any troubling of racial integration as a social and political strategy. Racial segregation is foremost a tactic that allows for the uneven and unequal distribution of resources across space (e.g., good schools, parks, health care facilities, grocery stores, etc.), as well as the unfair siting of noxious facilities, and Rothstein gives examples of both of these outcomes. Yet he does not interrogate the possibility of equalizing resources and opportunities as a route to integration (or justice) as opposed to integration as a route to equalizing resources. Nor does he give accounts of debates within black communities about the desirability or expediency of racial integration as a political strategy. In other words, since sociologists in this field have, for the most part, not ‘‘forgotten’’ the history that Rothstein chronicles, and since we continue to study present-day examples of state discrimination, some readers may be looking for a more critical interrogation: perhaps new theorizing or empirical evidence about the use of law to maintain racial inequality, or explanations for why the law has often proven ineffectual for remedying discrimination, or ways that law and policy might proactively be used to equalize resources. To be fair, however, critiquing a book for what it does not include is all there is to do when what the book does include is so unimpeachably rigorous and persuasive. Rothstein also makes a compelling case for assigning this book in your classes. He was motivated to write The Color of Law after reading several Supreme Court opinions that overlooked or denied the facts of the government’s role in producing racial segregation and that employed the fallacious distinction between de facto and de jure segregation. We cannot know if the justices ‘‘forgot’’ the history or never knew it. But insofar as we are all teaching future voters, lawyers, and justices, Rothstein concludes with a call to action: ‘‘Whether a future Court is better educated is entirely up to us’’ (p. 239).