Highway I-244 is a major highway in my hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma, running east to west across the city. What first might be seen as a concrete structure, simply serving as a vessel to transport people across the city efficiently, actually represents something profound in Tulsa’s history. This highway, finished in 1967 during waves of urban renewal, was built at the expense of black businesses, homes, wealth, and property that were attempting to be rebuilt in the wake of the Tulsa Race Massacre, a mass killing, bombing, and looting of a prosperous Black neighborhood in Tulsa in 1921. It now serves as a physical marker of the segregated racial lines separating North Tulsa, an area where most Black Tulsans now live, from the rest of the city. Earlier this summer, before delving deeply into my research on spatial inequalities in North Tulsa, I sat under a tree near this urban structure, reflecting on its importance. I thought about the hundreds of cars rushing across it daily, the joggers running past it on their morning routes, and the people stopping next to it as they pump gas at the QuikTrip across the street, unaware of its immense impact on shaping the lives of whole communities.
When considering reparations for segregation or historical racial violence, like the Tulsa Race Massacre, the focus often lies on compensating individual families of descendants. However, true justice must embody something more comprehensive and sustaining, that not only addresses the impacts on direct descendants, but also the effects it has had on where descendants could settle, the landscape of the neighborhood or “places” they were forced into, and how “place” continues to contribute to the disenfranchisement of the communities who reside there today through ongoing inequities and resource deprivation. This understanding transformed my research question to: What does segregation, specifically spatial inequalities, in North Tulsa, look like in a localized context? What resources are lacking in quantity, placement, and quality? And where do we need to begin in developing adequate resources for this community?
To answer these questions, I developed a three-pronged approach utilizing methodologies, such as ethnography, community resource mapping, and spatial analysis. I use a combination of ethnographic exploration of North Tulsa, cataloguing and mapping resources (e.g. grocery stores, healthcare facilities, libraries, and more), and building spatial analysis maps through QGIS that help pinpoint areas of need.
The disinvestment and resource deprivation of North Tulsa is in part a continuation of a systematic refusal to provide reparations for the Tulsa Race Massacre. The legacy of segregation and spatial inequalities, both phenomena shaped by “place”, is central in the fight for reparations and justice for Black Tulsans. As I reflect, on my visit to the highway and my research thus far, I can’t help but see how Tulsa’s past is reflected in so many regular spaces Tulsans exist in today. The Tulsa Race Massacre is a memory that is woven in the urban fiber of the city. Understanding the specific ways it has shaped this landscape is crucial to repairing the consequences of the past and addressing its ongoing impact on the present.