Marvin Roger Anderson has travelled all around the world and can’t imagine a better place than the Rondo neighborhood in his home town of St. Paul, Minnesota. After college, law school, and the Peace Corps, he returned to Minnesota to earn an MA degree from the University of Minnesota’s School of Library Science. In 1980, the Minnesota Supreme Court appointed him State Law Librarian, a position he held until retiring in 2002.
In 1982, along with a childhood friend, he co-founded Rondo Avenue, Inc. (RAI). RAI is a community-based nonprofit created to preserve and transmit the history, culture, and social impact of St. Paul’s predominately African-American neighborhood of Rondo. He served as the Project Manager and now Executive Director of the Rondo Commemorative Plaza (RCP), the nation’s first public memorial honoring communities destroyed by interstate freeway construction, which opened in July of 2018; he chairs the Rondo Center for Diverse Expression—a small gathering site and museum; he also chairs an organization called ReConnect Rondo that seeks to determine the feasibility of building a land bridge or “highway lid” over the section of I-94 that bisected the community of Rondo.
Rebecca S. Wingo is an Assistant Professor of History at the University of Cincinnati where she serves as the Director of Public History. She collaborated with Mr. Anderson on several public history projects (both digital and not) from 2015–2018 when she was the Mellon Postdoctoral Fellow in Digital Liberal Arts at Macalester College. What follows is the story of that collaboration.
In the 1950s, the Minnesota Department of Transportation (MnDOT) began construction on a stretch of I-94 that would connect the downtowns of Minneapolis and St. Paul. Developers proposed two routes: a northern route that followed abandoned railroad tracks, and a central route along Rondo Avenue. Rondo Avenue was a wide, tree-lined boulevard that formed the main business district for the predominantly African American neighborhood. MnDOT chose the latter. Some residents took the lowball offer on their home and moved away; others fought through the legal system; still others sat on their front porches with shotguns and waited for police. MnDOT claimed homes and businesses under eminent domain, and displaced over 750 families and 125 businesses. Minority communities around the nation faced similar destruction and robbery at the hands of highwaymen.1
From 1900 until the early 1960s, African-American men and women of St. Paul built churches, established businesses, educated their children, and formed social clubs and other institutions that led the fight against the persistent racism and oppression they often encountered on their jobs and throughout the greater St. Paul environs. Despite the social, political, and economic odds stacked against them, the community that became known as Rondo survived and thrived until it became one of the many Black neighborhoods across America destroyed by the twin demons of urban renewal and freeway construction.
In her groundbreaking book Root Shock: How Tearing Up City Neighborhoods Hurts America, and What We Can Do About It, Mindy Fullilove writes, “starting in 1949, urban renewal and freeway construction swept America, bulldozing and demolishing over 1,600 Black neighborhoods causing inhabitants to suffer ‘root shock,’” a “traumatic stress reaction related to the destruction of one’s emotional ecosystem.” According to Fullilove, “the experience of root shock—like the aftermath of a severe burn—does not end with emergency treatments but will stay with the individual for a lifetime. In fact, the injury from ‘root shock’ may be even more enduring than a burn, as it can affect generations and generations of people.”2 Rondo is one of these communities.
In 1982, community resident Marvin R. Anderson attended “Grand Old Day,” a celebration of a neighborhood in St. Paul on the eastern end of Grand Avenue. An exuberant festivalgoer shouted, “Grand Avenue is the best neighborhood in St. Paul!” No it’s not, Mr. Anderson thought to himself. Rondo is. Determined to best Grand Old Day, he teamed up with his best friend, Floyd Smaller, to form Rondo Avenue, Incorporated (RAI). They held their first annual Rondo Days festival commemorating their history and the vibrancy of their community in July 1983.
Ever since, the community has rallied under the cry “Remember Rondo!” and in 2015, during a Healing Ceremony at Rondo Days, the mayor of St. Paul apologized. “Today we acknowledge the sins of our past,” Chris Coleman said. “We regret the stain of racism that allowed so callous a decision as the one that led to families being dragged from their homes creating a diaspora of the African-American community in the City of St. Paul.”3
The stars aligned that following spring semester to reconstitute an old partnership between RAI and Macalester College. I (Rebecca Wingo) began my position at Macalester College just two weeks after Mayor Coleman’s apology. As a postdoc in Digital Liberal Arts (DLA) on a campus where DLA didn’t yet exist in any formal way, I focused my energy on developing a flagship course with longterm campus impact. My colleague in the history department, Amy Sullivan, was scheduled to teach an oral history course that semester and was exploring her options for potential community partnerships. Our departmental chair played matchmaker, and Sullivan and I ended up approaching RAI together to propose a team-taught course called “Remembering Rondo: A History Harvest.”
The is a community-based, student-driven, collaborative digital archive. As the founders of the History Harvest at the University of Nebraska state, “It is . . . the shared experience of giving that is at the heart of the History Harvest concept. The project makes invisible histories and materials more visible by working with and within local communities to collect, preserve and share previously unknown or under-appreciated artifacts and stories.”4 The History Harvest recognizes that the bulk of historical artifacts are in private hands: history is in our basements, in our attics, on our mantles, and in that shoebox tucked under our beds. The History Harvest subverts the traditional role of archives, libraries, and museums by giving archival power back to the community. It builds upon the tenets of a shared authority.5 At the Harvest, people bring their objects of significance, and then they take their artifacts back home where they belong. There is no acquisition. And unlike Antiques Roadshow, everything is valuable. This model is empowering from both the community and student perspective. The history classroom transforms into a lab in which the students act as liaisons, archivists, and public historians.
Our course objectives blended content-based learning with hands-on, methodological training in digital and public history:
- Students will become proficient in Minnesota’s African American history and the history of urban development in the Twin Cities
- Students will use public history methods including oral history and archival management following Dublin Core standards
- Students will identify and become proficient in the necessary methods and technologies
- Students will develop mutually beneficial partnerships with local community groups
Though we already decided to use , an open-source archival management system developed by the Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New Media at George Mason University, we required students to identify any additional technological needs and justify the technologies they selected. For instance, what would we use to edit audio and video, and why? What is the cost? Do we support the mission of the company? Why does it matter? Asking these questions allowed us to interrogate the power structures that undergird some technologies while simultaneously teaching students to become aware of their own digital agency.
During the event itself, the students thought carefully about the logistics. To avoid an assembly-line feel (check in, sign forms, get interviewed, digitize objects, goodbye), they arranged the Harvest stations along the walls. They set up long tables in the center of the room and provided lunch from a neighborhood BBQ joint, thereby funneling any money we spent back into the community. During lunch, the Harvest became secondary to cross-cultural, intergenerational conversations. The students built a lot of trust with the community members over that lunch, and the archive reflects those community members’ generosity. It also happened to be Mr. Anderson’s birthday, so we bought cake and had a real party.
What did you think about the first History Harvest?
Despite my involvement in the planning and preparation for the Harvest, this was a new concept for the community and to be honest there were those moments of normal apprehension—will it rain, did we get the word out, and, more specifically . . . will it work? However, by the time the first resident arrived and the process began, I was more relaxed, calmed, and filled with pride knowing that this group of gifted and dedicated people had assembled to listen, learn, and transcribe the personal treasures of the people of Rondo. I tend to be optimistic about matters and what I observed of the interactions among the participants over the course of the Harvest clearly validated this tendency and cemented my belief in the value of the story of Rondo to those who genuinely desire to hear and understand it.
—Marvin R. Anderson
The History Harvest is an inherently collaborative project. In addition to community collaboration, the course required extensive classroom and campus collaboration. By the third year, my colleagues and I had finessed and fine-tuned the following classroom teams:
- Hospitality Team: Responsible for greeting people, making sure contributors go to all the Harvest stations, entertainment, and catering.
- Registration Team: In charge of making sure that the contributors understand and sign the release forms and organizing the artifact labeling process for the other teams.
- Artifact Team: Conduct short interviews with the contributors about their objects. Sample questions: “What does this object mean to you? Why did you bring it today? How does it tell your story of Rondo?” Unless the contributor opts out, these interviews are recorded, edited, transcribed, and uploaded to the archive with the object.
- Digitization Team: In charge of photographing 3D and fragile objects, or scanning 2D objects. (During busy moments, scanning creates a bottleneck, so the photographer can photograph even the scannable items more efficiently.)
- Oral History Team (optional): The first year, Sullivan and I ran a successful oral history booth. We had enough volunteers to cover this element of the event. However, we do not recommend trying to coordinate the Harvest and the oral history booth unless team teaching.
The work of all of these groups dovetailed to create a seamless experience for the contributor. The team you don’t see here is the Outreach Team mentioned in the History Harvest Handbook. Outreach is too much work for a handful of students—as we learned through trial and error (mostly error). We suggest instead categorizing types of outreach suitable for the community and dividing the labor among all students. When Dr. Crystal Moten led the second History Harvest with Rondo, she divided students into teams suitable for the Rondo community: churches, businesses, and organizations and public spaces.
We also received support from campus collaborators, including Macalester’s librarians, archivist, Civic Engagement Center, history department, and individual professors who volunteered their time and students. For example, three students and Morgan Adamson, a professor teaching a documentary studies course, volunteered to shoot b-roll and run the oral history booth. The history department later found the funds to pay Adamson’s students to create a mini-documentary about the Harvest that they could include on their résumés and RAI could feature on their site. One student from Professor Eric Carroll’s photography class also volunteered for the entire day, so I found a willing Rondo resident to feature in her final portrait project. Carroll and several of the volunteer students showed up for the second and third years as well.
The History Harvest fires on all cylinders for a school with a mission like Macalester. It aligns itself with community-engaged, experiential learning; it supports civic engagement and the students’ desire for social justice; and it is an outward-facing model that defines public history as history co-created with the public. Our first History Harvest was a roaring success—so much so that RAI invited Macalester to run a second harvest in 2017. And a third in 2018.6
The History Harvest was the first step in developing a longer partnership with RAI because it established trust. For example, members of the community and RAI were excited by the outcome of the Harvest but they worried about losing control of the artifacts, since the archive was hosted by Macalester. As a result, I worked with RAI to set up a account where they installed their own instance of Omeka and we transferred the archive. It now lives at .7 Even the digital artifacts reside in Rondo.
What did you look for when establishing this partnership?
The stories of Rondo are deep, very wide, and filled with a mixture of remembrance of the joy of having lived during Rondo’s heyday—but also anger, sadness and depression having witnessed its destruction and demise. These stories are not to be taken lightly, so the first three boxes for me to check were: (a) the depth of understanding about Rondo’s unique history; (b) the level of advance preparation; and (c) the clarity of the course objectives. Once I was assured that these had been fully and comprehensively addressed, the road to a successful partnership was laid.
—Marvin R. Anderson
Building trust included a number of factors, including invitations to the classroom, investment outside the classroom, and open communication about the partnership. Our classroom had an open-door policy for any Rondo community member. They were welcome in class any time, and did not need to notify us they were coming. No one took us up on this offer, but that wasn’t the point. Implementing and maintaining transparency was key to developing trust. Giving people the option to visit the class actively demonstrated that we had nothing to hide.
Furthermore, we invited some community members into the classroom to talk about their experiences. Deborah Montgomery, a prominent Rondo citizen, visited with us every year. Montgomery was from Rondo and, through her activism, found herself serving on the national board of the NAACP before she had even graduated from high school. She marched on Washington and Selma, and was both the first African American and first woman to serve on St. Paul’s police force. She was a city planner, local politician, and educator. Where possible, we found the funds to provide community speakers like Montgomery with an honorarium. We recognize that communities aren’t an endless supply of generosity that scholars can mine at will with no reciprocity or compensation.
Sullivan, the students, and myself also invested time outside the classroom. The Harvest was not a one-and-done event. For example, students attended community programs and fundraisers. They wrote cards to all the participants thanking them for their time and directing them to the archive. After the first year, I also set up a booth at Rondo Days with a wireless hotspot so that people could explore the archive on site. We may have only had five visitors that day, but the members of RAI saw us there and appreciated what we were trying to do. In many ways, that was more important.
We also gave RAI an out at nearly every phase of the project. Before we taught our first Harvest class, we presented the syllabus and proposed an event date to the RAI board. Sullivan and I included Paul Schadewald, the Associate Director of the Civic Engagement Center at Macalester College (a center devoted to building partnerships), in all the meetings with RAI. As contingent faculty, Sullivan and I were not guaranteed to be at Macalester for the longevity of the partnership with RAI. Schadewald was the long-term contact for the organization, which helped ameliorate the board members’ concerns about working with us. We received unanimous approval but we emphasized that RAI could withdraw at any time if the partnership stopped being equitable, productive, or valuable. RAI had fewer reasons to trust us than not, so they appreciated that, too.
The History Harvest was essentially “step one” for Macalester and RAI. The organization is actively seeking ways in which they can preserve their history and claim their digital identity. The care Sullivan and I took to make sure the Harvest was co-creative rather than extractive opened up opportunities to collaborate with RAI on other affiliated public and digital history community engagement projects. These projects included a course on mapping, directing a student research project on the Reconnect Rondo land bridge, and overseeing interns for the Rondo Commemorative Plaza. Mr. Anderson didn’t just open a binder and let me choose which projects interested me. Each additional project and responsibility was equal parts trust-building exercise and serendipity.
While Mr. Anderson loved the History Harvest and wanted to run the event again, he also wanted a map of historic Rondo businesses to visualize the vibrancy of the business district along Rondo Avenue. Before highway construction, Rondo Avenue was the heart of the neighborhood’s economy. It had to be. Most white business owners outside of the neighborhood banned Black citizens; as a result, Rondo had to be self-sustaining in order to provide all the services its residents needed. When the city built I-94, it undermined the economic ecosystem of the community. The timing of Mr. Anderson’s request was perfect—I just so happened to want a new course.
There is a printed poster of Rondo neighborhood landmarks and businesses available for purchase through the Minnesota History Center. Sullivan and I bought our students copies so they could become familiar with the neighborhood, but we couldn’t find the map-maker, Jim Gerlich, anywhere on the internet to save our lives. Gerlich doesn’t really do the computer thing. Then, he heard the radio spot about the History Harvest that Mr. Anderson and I did on Minnesota Public Radio’s All Things Considered, and he came—with an armful of maps.
We invited Gerlich to the History Harvest class and he told the students about his research process. He went through all the business ads in the community newspapers from 1920–1960. He explained that limited space on the poster meant that he only included the businesses by the decade. In the process of producing the map, he actually identified a stretch of Rondo Avenue by the capitol that hadn’t been destroyed by the highway; he and Mr. Anderson petitioned to have the street name restored. At the end of class, Gerlich showed me the two CDs and jump drive he was using to preserve his map. I promised to explore better options. He handed me the cardboard envelope and told me that those were his only copies. I asked if he minded if my students made a digital version. He offered us all his research files.
In the spring 2017 semester, my students and I made a map of the historic businesses in Rondo. We talked about civic technology and explored our options. The students chose . A free version of the software is available for creating digital maps, and since items are added to the map via spreadsheets, it’s also easy to use. RAI can host the project without paying for an expensive ArcGIS license and can edit the spreadsheet with relative ease. After processing what felt like miles of newspaper microfilm, now lives at alongside the History Harvest.
At the end of the semester, I gave Gerlich some options about what we might do with his scholarship. He decided to donate the map to the Ramsey County Historical Society. When I facilitated his donation, I also donated my students’ project and research files.
How has the map been useful to your work?
By the end of 2019, three businesses with deep Rondo ties will be offering food, beverage, and gathering services for those living within the Rondo community and throughout the entire city. A number of us have taken note of these developments and we wanted to show our appreciation to the proprietors for taking the risk inherent in opening any business, and more so in food and beverage service. Our idea was to come up with a gift that had a common theme but also features unique to each establishment. After a while, I thought of Jim Gerlich’s map and its comprehensive listing of the type of businesses with the same functions from Rondo’s past as those we are going to honor. We thought a picture would be worth a thousand words and would better describe what we have planned. We’ll be asking an artist to prepare a poster combining the images of cooks, servers and patrons of the places from the Gerlich map with the images from the students’ research into a current map indicating the physical location of the honorees—it’s going to be great!
—Marvin R. Anderson
Then, in another stroke of serendipity, a geography student intern at the Rondo Community Land Trust (RCLT), Anna Dolde, set up a meeting with me. Mr. Anderson told RCLT about the map my students built and RCLT was interested in our findings. Dolde was a stellar student and Mr. Anderson wanted to find some way to employ her as an intern on , a project proposing a land bridge over the highway. The bridge would have mixed-income housing, senior living, shops, parks, and maybe even the St. Paul farmer’s market. It would also reconnect the bifurcated neighborhood. Earlier that week, my dean emailed me to tell me about some unclaimed undergraduate research funds for community-based projects. He thought I might have something in mind. And here was Mr. Anderson telling me he wanted an intern, and Anna, the undergrad with the expertise. Dolde spent the summer forming the Housing Committee and doing site visits to other land bridges across the country.
What is ReConnect Rondo, and why is it important?
ReConnectRondo’s (RCR) mission is the realization of a Rondo Land Bridge (RLB) to reconnect communities proximate to I-94 in the Rondo neighborhood of St. Paul. RCR is a community development organization established to maximize opportunities for business, economic, and social development. RCR’s goal is to persuasively shape transportation policy for the RLB to create opportunities that uplift the public health, economic, housing, and social conditions of the Rondo communities. With the construction of the land bridge, a new Rondo Boulevard will be built as the major walkway of the bridge. At roughly four blocks long it can only be a symbol of the original 21-block length of old Rondo. Nevertheless, there will be shops, cafes, offices, and housing that will enable a new generation of people to collect memories for subsequent History Harvests many years into the future.
—Marvin R. Anderson
Rondo Commemorative Plaza
Mr. Anderson and RAI were also involved in developing the . The plaza has twenty-four permanent panels telling the history of Rondo and the stories of its present. Rondo is the landing site for many immigrants in the community, including Hmong, Somali, Eritrean, Karen, Oromo, Ethiopian, and Vietnamese people. They also have stories to tell and the plaza will give them space to do so, but Mr. Anderson was on a crunched timeline and needed immediate text writers for the panels. I offered to oversee four interns—a historian, two geographers, and an artist. Together, we created two of the panels. One of our panels profiles the Rondo Avenue/Dale Street intersection that was the heartbeat of the business district; the other profiles a house taken by MnDOT. The house—a firmly middle-class home with many well-maintained improvements—was owned by the Galloway family. The students used archived eminent domain files to develop mathematical equations assessing the monetary value lost in the neighborhood houses, but they also interviewed displaced resident Nate Galloway in an attempt to describe the intangible values lost.
What does the Rondo Commemorative Plaza mean to the community?
The Rondo Commemorative Plaza opened in July 2018. Brick pavers, cleverly built-in benches, and a long exhibit wall that spans the decades of Rondo’s story—including the stories of today’s Karen, Hmong, Oromo, and Somali residents—surround a grassy mound that symbolizes both the old neighborhood’s resting place and the dreams that continue to rise amid its ruins. Atop the knoll are pieces of the granite curb that once lined nearby streets.
At the south end, a pergola shades a platform where singers and musicians can perform, and an installation of chimes by local artist Seitu Jones can be played with hammers. Each chime is dedicated to one of the 18 north-south streets that crossed Rondo, and each hammer bears the inscription of a notable family or resident from the old neighborhood. A tower with a lighted beacon stands at the northeast corner of the park, visible to drivers passing by on I-94. It is our hope the plaza will help rekindle the spirit of Rondo, bringing people of all backgrounds together.
—Marvin R. Anderson
Working with the Rondo community has been one of the most rewarding and transformative experiences of my academic career. My students feel the same. Though working with RAI has been productive, listening to RAI has been generative. The History Harvest was our litmus test for the partnership. The moments of specific engagement were just as important as sticking around afterward to see if there are other ways to partner with the community. If we in the academy are going to truly break down the barriers between the public and access to scholarship, we need to empower citizen scholars and include them in the planning process. When we parachute in and leave, we replicate the same systems that marginalized the community in the first place.
There is no one recipe for developing a sustainable partnership. If I had to boil down what made the partnership between RAI and Macalester so fruitful, I would identify three things: 1) mutual respect which ultimately begat trust, 2) flexibility, and 3) the people. So much of the partnership is a result of the individuals involved. If Mr. Anderson didn’t like me, none of this would have happened. The reverse is probably also true—but everyone likes Mr. Anderson.
What do you think made our partnership so successful?
Clearly the advance preparation provided by Professors Wingo and Sullivan, along with the clarity of the class objectives and willingness of the students to engage the project with “gusto,” were important elements that contributed to the success of the History Harvest. In addition, there were a couple of factors from a personal basis that deserve mention. I truly found the professors to be authentic in their proposal, transparent in their strategy, and genuine in their desire for a positive outcome for all concerned, which led to the success of our partnership.
—Marvin R. Anderson
A lot of things happened after that first History Harvest. When I set up the booth at Rondo Days in July, half of our students came—during their summer break. In 2016, Sullivan and I invited a History Harvest student and Mr. Anderson to co-present with us at the Imagining America conference. It was standing room only. People are hungry for this type of scholarship and pedagogy, in part because it’s relevant. In the wake of alarming realities like the local murder of Philando Castile—a son of Rondo—by a police officer in July 2016, Rondo’s history is also the history of our present. Black Lives Matter protestors shut down the highway at Lexington Avenue, the western boundary of the neighborhood—the same highway that still cuts through Rondo. That symbolism is hard to ignore, and not lost on my students. In this context, “Remember Rondo” is best understood as both a rallying cry and a warning.
It’s hard to describe Marvin Anderson’s charisma. He has been fighting for recognition of what happened to Rondo for longer than I have been alive. To be in the presence of that kind of determination and passion is humbling. During a community meeting about the development of a land bridge to reconnect the bifurcated community in April 2018, Mr. Anderson delivered the opening remarks. “They say there are two important days in your life,” he said. “The day you are born and the day you realize why you are born.” There is no higher calling for Mr. Anderson than empowering his neighborhood and establishing RAI as a model for other communities traumatized by urban development.
Mr. Anderson is 70-something years old,8 and he’s thinking about what happens when he’s gone. If you ask him what he hopes the outcome of all his work will be, he’d tell you that he hopes to find someone from Rondo to take his place, and maybe he’d have a park on top of the highway posthumously named after him. As for Jim Gerlich, the mapmaker who doesn’t “computer,” he still works with Macalester students on a handful of his own research projects. He spends a fair portion of his retirement energy running a philanthropic youth organization in North Minneapolis, one of the neighborhoods to which the Rondo citizens relocated in the 1960s. And Chris Coleman, the mayor who apologized to Rondo? He retired. In his stead St. Paul elected Melvin Carter III, a grandson of Rondo. His father came to our first History Harvest.
1. See Eric Avila, The Folklore of the Freeway: Race and Revolt in the Modernist City (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2014); P. E. Moskowitz, How to Kill a City: Gentrification, Inequality, and the Fight for the Neighborhood (New York: Bold Type Books, 2017); Richard Rothstein, The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America (New York: Liveright Publishing, 2017); and Christopher W. Wells, Car Country: An Environmental History (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2012).
2. Mindy Fullilove, Root Shock: How Tearing Up City Neighborhoods Hurts America, and What We Can Do About It (New York: Ballantine Books, 2004).
4. “,” The History Harvest. Accessed November 18, 2016.
5. Michael Frisch, A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History (Albany: SUNY Press, 1990) and “From A Shared Authority to the Digital Kitchen, and Back,” in Letting Go?: Sharing Historical Authority in a User-Generated World,.eds. Bill Adair, Benjamin Filene, and Laura Koloski (Philadelphia: Pew Center for Arts and Heritage, 2011), 126–137.
6. Dr. Crystal M. Moten directed both the 2017 and 2018 History Harvests. I provided consultation expertise for the 2017 History Harvest only, and Moten developed new strategies to keep community interest fresh for the 2018 History Harvest by working directly with the elders’ clubs and partnering with a group of local high schoolers.
7. There are many people to thank for the successful transfer of the archive, including RAI’s web guru, Sharon Kennedy Vickers, and Macalester College’s digital scholarship specialist, John Meyerhoffer.
8. Come on. It’s rude to ask.
Frisch, Michael. A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History. Albany: SUNY Press, 1990.
Frisch, Michael. “From A Shared Authority to the Digital Kitchen, and Back.” In Letting Go?: Sharing Historical Authority in a User-Generated World. Edited by Bill Adair, Benjamin Filene, and Laura Koloski, pp. 126–137. Philadelphia: The Pew Center for Arts and Heritage, 2011.
Fullilove, Mindy. Root Shock: How Tearing Up City Neighborhoods Hurts America, and What We Can Do About It. New York: Ballantine Books, 2004.
Moskowitz, P.E. How to Kill a City: Gentrification, Inequality, and the Fight for the Neighborhood. New York: Bold Type Books, 2017.
Rothstein, Richard. The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America. New York: Liveright Publishing, 2017.
Wells, Christopher W. Car Country: An Environmental History. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2012.