Briana M. Alvarez
For as long as I’ve lived here, Lynn has been “gentrifying”— the city is becoming more “acceptable” for outsiders, I’m told. But what does that mean for long-term residents of the city like my family and me?
When people that I know talk about gentrification, what they really mean is “White people taking over” or the deep culture of Lynn is being ripped away. Once, a former employer — a business owner who had been called out for gentrifying Lynn — asked what gentrification meant to me. What was I supposed to say to my boss, a White man? I said nothing. What many White business owners fail to realize is that the term “gentrifier” isn’t just an empty accusation. I know what it looks like for my city to be gentrified.
The term gentrification is defined as “a profit-driven, race, and class change of a historically disinvested neighborhood,” according to the National Low Income Housing Coalition. That’s one definition; here’s another: Recently, the well-known and beloved Lynnway Mart Indoor Mall and Flea Market was demolished. The familiar indoor mall was long considered the heart of Lynn. When I think about it, my mind is flooded with memories of shopping with my grandmother at POC-owned small businesses, getting an Italian sausage in the summer heat with my father, and buying my dream quincenera dress with my mom. Now, all those memories have been bulldozed along with the music and laughter that once resounded inside the mall’s walls. And, of course, not even one year later, construction began on a new apartment complex.
Our neighbor, East Boston, is no stranger to the sudden appearance of the yellow hard hats followed by the large buildings that mark gentrification. In fact, in October 2023, the Boston Planning Department approved “five new development projects” there. The Boston Planning and Development Agency is an economic and planning agency that works on development projects based on housing and business growth. To slow this potential wave of gentrification, Mayor Michelle Wu advocated for rent control, to the point of making it part of her previous campaign to get rid of the BPDA altogether.
But what is the Mayor of Lynn, Jared Nicholson, doing? I’ll tell you what he’s not doing, in my opinion: listening to the concerns of Lynn residents. In 2023, the South Harbor project was approved by both the city council and Nicholson. Although I understand the need to expand, and I want to be able to welcome more people to the city, I find myself agreeing with the protestors who spoke out: “It has to be inclusive and equitable,” they argued. Adding, “In its current form, the South Harbor project is neither.” And yet, the plan went forward. I could sit here and attack the mayor for not doing enough for the residents of Lynn, but what good would that do?
Rather, my appeal is to the people of Lynn — everyone from ordinary citizens to business owners to city leaders. They need to understand that gentrification is not just a slander issued by those who want to seem “woke;” it is a real thing that is really happening to our beloved city. I’m not here to discourage white-owned businesses or tell owners to pack up and leave. On the contrary, I am grateful they see potential in Lynn, despite its less-than-ideal reputation. However, maintaining its background and culture has to play into that potential.
Consider the murals. Each beautiful mural tells a story to residents and visitors of Lynn — the heart and soul of the city are painted on the walls so they are not forgotten. Each mural shines a light on the cultural backgrounds of the city’s residents. On Exchange Street, there is a mural of a young woman protected in a shawl, grasping a yellow flower. With a stoic expression on her face, she watches her flower delicately dissolve into scattered fragments, carried by the wind. The painter uses his art to tie back to his Mexican heritage. On Washington Street, a Dominican Woman in hair curlers watches passers-by. These murals represent the 42.5% of Lynn residents who identify as Hispanic and Latino. If the city keeps gentrifying — pushing out current residents — what would be the point of the murals? Who would they be representing? How long will it take for them to look merely performative?
Again, this isn’t a call to yell at all newcomers, but a chance to inform them and encourage them to understand the implications of gentrification on a city like Lynn. I thank every person — from new business owners to residents moving in — who sees the potential in my beautiful city. But I also challenge them to consider how they can join the community rather than replace it — how, in moving here, they can honor the people who have long called Lynn home and who plan to continue doing so.
Briana M. Alvarez is a Lynn resident, an English major at Salem State University, and an editor of the student magazine, Red. Skies.
