Despite hundreds expressing interest, only one verified Rondo descendant initially benefited in the intended geographic area. In practice, the program did not broadly benefit Rondo descendants. Instead, it functioned as a highly restrictive, low-output program with symbolic impact but limited real-world results. I’m sorry, at this point, I cannot say ‘Land Bridge’ with a straight face.
I grew up in what folks now call “Rondo.” My father was a builder who erected houses in the neighborhood. I mentioned before that my late uncle, who was a professional electrician, owned a business wiring countless properties in the area. We played a critical role in constructing Rondo as we know it. Still, some reason has led to the erasure of ourselves, along with many others in our situation, from this community’s narrative. Even some institutions integral to Rondo’s history, such as my uncle’s church, called Gospel Temple, which has stood at the corner of Grotto and Marshall Avenue for over 75 years, are too often omitted from the story.
One explanation for the erasure in Rondo’s narrative is that the “Rondo” being referenced isn’t actually the Rondo of decades ago. In the 1920s, it was a flourishing neighborhood. The community experienced displacement, disinvestment, and demographic changes in the decades to follow. The version of Rondo recalled in public discussions is an oversimplified or constructed one rather than a complex and active economic area. In addition, the discussion of Rondo is dominated by people who share very limited ties to Rondo or the community that extends to the Saint Paul Rondo area.
It should be noted that when history remains incomplete, it negatively impacts the policies made in response to it. Not knowing precisely who established Rondo, who suffered because of it, and what form that suffering took will create a fundamentally flawed program.
Speaking of programs attempting to remedy the harms suffered by a specific community, let us discuss what I perceive as yet another failure.
Saint Paul’s recently discussed “Rondo Inheritance Fund” was advertised as a necessary attempt to compensate for the destruction of the historic Rondo district caused by the construction of Interstate Highway 94. While this statement is true, the policy itself doesn’t appear to be designed to provide any benefits to Rondo’s descendants.
For starters, the eligibility criteria seem to be excessively strict. One must present documentation proving a direct relationship to an individual who lived in Rondo before being forced to leave. While that requirement might make sense in theory, in practice, it poses several problems. First off, we are discussing events that happened over sixty years ago. The likelihood of finding, in good condition, adequate documentation of Black property owners from the middle 20th century is pretty slim.
In addition, the requirement to prove a direct relationship to an individual means that those whose surnames were changed in the meantime would be automatically excluded from assistance, regardless of whether they are descendants. Finally, those whose relatives left no records at all would be unable to benefit from the program, despite having ties to Rondo and having experienced all the hardships caused by the destruction.
Even if one manages to clear this first obstacle, the second awaits him. The problem is that the assistance offered by Saint Paul is limited to down payment financing. Yet lenders will continue to demand a good credit score, stable income, and manageable debt. Many descendants of Rondo families are still suffering economically from displacement, so providing financial assistance to those in need of financing is counterproductive. Saint Paul’s policy failed to prioritize the very population it aimed to assist, which has missed the mark again, business as usual signifying misalignment between vision and execution.
Prioritization measures were never implemented, meaning Rondo’s descendants had to compete with other applicants for funds, making participation in the process highly unlikely despite its stated purpose. Next, geography stands in one’s way. It is implied that those who receive help should buy a property in the historic Rondo neighborhood. However, that’s easier said than done. The number of properties available is relatively limited, and costs are high. The policy tries to establish connections while simultaneously preventing one from doing so.
If we look closely, there’s the issue of scale. The few million dollars Saint Paul allocates to the program is nowhere near enough to compensate for the billions in wealth lost by community members. Thus, the program seems rather ineffective on a large scale.
In recent news, when it became known that only a single Rondo descendant managed to purchase property in the district with the help of Saint Paul’s program, it didn’t come as a surprise. If Saint Paul is serious about repair, it needs to move beyond programs that look good in press releases but collapse under real-world conditions. That means loosening documentation requirements, pairing assistance with credit and lending support, explicitly prioritizing descendants, expanding the scale of funding, and confronting housing market realities head-on.
Otherwise, the Inheritance Fund will stand as another example of a well-intentioned policy that ultimately preserved the status quo, while claiming to change it.
I’m always puzzled by the furor over the freeway plowing through Rondo. Freeways plowed through large parts of Minneapolis and St. Paul, displacing more white people than non-white. My childhood neighborhood, where my kids and two grandkids live still live, Bryn Mawr in Minneapolis, was cut in half by Highways 12 and then 394–and I had friends there forced to sell what they thought would be their homes for many years. The Seven Corners/West Bank neighborhood, a largely white blue-collar area, was decimated. I could multiply examples. People were hurt regardless of color. The freeway planners looked for the cheapest, easiest routes.