Rochester isn’t all flowers
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
It’s not when I hated living here when I knew I had to leave. When I started to love it again, I knew I had to go. From an outside perspective, Rochester is an overlooked city. Once the flour city, now the flower city, it seems like even now, the flowers Rochester cares so deeply about are wilting away. The infrastructure is crumbling, downtown streets are lifeless, and there isn’t one day without hearing about another shooting happening within city limits. Tourists will see Rochester with a more upbeat take, citing events such as the Lilac and Fringe Festivals, the abundance of parks, and the prominent universities of the University of Rochester and Rochester Institute of Technology.
As someone who has lived here for as long as I can remember, I believe both realities are true. The city is falling apart. There is no doubt about that. Most local politicians are prolonging the city’s downfall rather than trying to create plans for what seems to be the inevitable. Last year alone, county leaders even shuffled several million dollars into golf courses from the Human Services budget. It’s been said that we will see a TopGolf in the future with an absurd amount of tax reductions. It is becoming increasingly obvious that a place I called home for so long is no longer for me.
Growing up in the suburbs allowed me to stay in the bubble of perceived affluence. My hometown had it all: a fully stocked library, sparkling athletic facilities with a comically awful football team, a newly renovated theater, and at least five art classes to choose from a given semester. Every year, my school proudly hung a banner that said, “Third highest ranking school district.” I remember laughing every time I saw this, as it seemed like bronze was the best we would ever get. Yet, the older I get, the more I start to wonder how my school was ranked so high, and I panic whenever I think about the school districts ranked lower. If my education was considered one of the best, how does it feel to be in one of the worst schools? The privilege of simply living in a “high-performing” school district still makes me often reflect on opportunities relative to people who live not even fifteen minutes away from me.
Speaking of privilege, halfway into my senior year of high school, I first found out about redlining, and it has completely changed and shaped how and why I am studying here at Geneseo. Because of my upbringing, I was completely unaware of how redlining and other discriminatory practices affect others. It was then that I realized that these practices were designed to segregate communities of color from middle-class white communities. This process has created segregated communities—segregated neighborhoods. Neighboring towns like Henrietta, Pittsford, Fairport, and Irondequoit still maintain a majority white population in their neighborhoods.
I think people fail to realize that even though redlining is illegal, it continues to have a strong effect on Rochester locals, especially the children who are attending these schools. Children from suburban neighborhoods are less likely to suffer from food insecurity, poor air quality, or live in outdated housing. These very things are capable of affecting their educational system and environment. The difference in housing in neighborhoods can affect school funding. Suburban schools continue to flourish as they receive millions, sometimes billions, of dollars of funding to fix their schools’ infrastructure, add more hallways and bridges, or rebuild and update sports facilities. Meanwhile, urban schools in Rochester receive little to no funding. Teachers are unable to afford even the most basic necessities for their students and usually pay out of pocket for ends to be met.
Rochester isn’t all flowers. If anything, Rochester still needs to grow. Low-income and disadvantaged communities are still struggling to survive, grow, and change in a city that wants to keep them from progressing. As a Rochester local, it is a shame to watch politicians contributing to the continued downfall of these communities. They deserve better. They deserve a chance.