A tale of two suburbs: signs of failure and success
For many communities, racial integration is a worthy but difficult goal, a challenge to the foresightedness and ingenuity of their civic leaders. Rather than waiting for the courts to prescribe remedies for segregation, more predominantly white communities are trying to take the initiative and integrate themselves—with varying success. Two current and contrasting examples: Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley, where an advertising campaign to promote voluntary integration shows all the signs of failure, and the Chicago suburb of Oak Park, where urban specialists gathered earlier this month to study a promising local program.
The Valley: No Shortcuts
One of the few places in California's San Fernando Valley that was open to blacks during the postwar real estate boom is an area near Pacoima, which real estate people mockingly referred to as the "Joe Louis Homes." In the decades since, the population of the sprawling valley, which lies just over the Santa Monica mountains north of Los Angeles, has swelled to include 1.5 million residents —but only 2.3% are black.
Today the fortress mentality within the valley is beginning to ease, but for reasons having little to do with racial broadmindedness. First, rather than have their children bused under court order to schools in west Los Angeles, up to 45 minutes away, some white residents would prefer to have more blacks within the valley. Says Mrs. Bobbi Fiedler, who won election to the school board last spring on an antibusing platform: "Most of the people I know are more concerned about losing control of where their kids attend school than about who moves in."
Federal affirmative-action programs in the valley have also increased white tolerance for black newcomers. The programs obligate large companies—Rockwell, Bendix and Lockheed, among others —to hire more minorities, a difficult task given the scarcity of black residents north of the mountains.
To capitalize on changing white attitudes, the San Fernando Valley Fair Housing Council decided last spring to invite blacks to shop for homes in the valley. Aided by grants from the Ford Foundation and local real estate people, the council launched a $92,000 publicity campaign, distributing glossy brochures in the wealthier Los Angeles subdivisions where black professionals tend to cluster. The brochures showed blacks playing tennis on valley courts and partying on the sundecks of $60,000 ranch homes. Black radio stations broadcast a jingle urging Los Angeles listeners to "Move on in, move on into the valley."
But the campaign failed. City blacks decided that the valley was a nice place to visit but they didn't want to live there: the council received barely 100 inquiries serious enough to pass on to real estate brokers, and of these only seven black families ended up buying in the valley. Said Allison Bedell, a black house hunter who decided against the valley: "Our friends told us that the valley is not a good environment for black teen-agers." Says Kenneth C. Kelly, a black engineer and longtime council member: "We are finding the blacks are more uptight than the [white] neighbors are."