In the excerpts from There Goes the ‘Hood, author Lance Freeman takes a deep dive into the gentrification phenomenon. He frames his argument around what he calls “the arrival of whites” into predominately black neighbors. In his analysis he includes testimonials from a variety of residents, including both long-time residents and the new coming white “gentrifiers.” Among the observations from the long-time residents, many cite the white presence for the general improvement of the neighborhood. One observer, Henry, notes, “You’re getting more police protection and everything, as expected. I guess the whites demanded more of the Police Department and they’re just doing their job—what they say are their job.” From Henry’s perspective, the police directly responded to a complaint from the new, wealthy, white community, while they have long neglected the needs of the black neighborhood pre-gentrification. While some connect the rise in police responsiveness to tangible factors such as rising real estate values, improved community activism, and increased investment, others turn to conspiratorial narratives to explain the gentrification question.

The common conspiracy theory expressed by some of these long-time residents suggests a deeply ingrained white superiority complex towards blacks. In some related conspiracy theories, this feeling manifests in truly sinister scenarios. Take for instance the quoted exchange from the movie Boyz N the Hood where Furious explains a conspiracy. “Why is it that there is a gun shop in almost every corner in this community? … For the same reason there’s a liquor store on almost every corner in the black community. They want us to kill ourselves.” This quote illustrates the dark mistrust felt by some blacks toward the white dominated society. The gentrification conspiracy theory doesn’t go as far as the one Furious explains, but the sense that the system is rigged to push blacks out of their communities does have some legitimacy in history. Freeman explains past policies that sound like conspiracies but were actually implemented. Policies such as racially segregated zoning laws, restrictive covenants, and “red lining” are all relics of the past, but the underlying racial overtones are still lodged in the national consciousness.

One cannot ignore how these past policies still inform the opinions of many during the present day. Although economic trends and social movement can explain gentrification concretely, the conspiratorial explanations reveal the racial oppression that many still feel in society today. The movement away from this feeling will be arduous but may be eased by initiatives that lessen the blow gentrification causes long-time black residents. A simple start would be the preservation of historic culture within gentrified neighborhoods. This could indicate that newcomers embrace the cultural aspects and wish to live as a part of the neighborhood rather than create anew based on their own culture. Although a relatively minor initiative, such an act would signal a genuine interest in integration, and disavow the segregationist policies of the past.

The contrast between the lives of the drug dealers described in Code of the Suburb and the lives of those observed by Alice Goffman in On the Run is stark. While the difference between suburban and urban settings is certainly nothing new, the existence of an “underground economy” runs through both in a way that reveals meaningful structural factors. Drug dealing, in particular, shows the ways in which the promise of a successful future, policing, and surroundings can shape the nature and attitude of those engaged in the act. The dealers in the suburb can enjoy such benefits as “coolness” among their peers, free drugs, and extra spending money with relatively low risk. For those in the urban setting, however, dealing is a means of survival; an illegal act that perpetuates the vicious cycle of young African-American men “on the run” from the law. While equally illegal in the eyes of the law, drug dealing is defined by the cultural practices of the area.

In suburbia, lives are often shaped by a general set of shared values that are promoted by every family. This set typically includes going to school everyday, following the rules, displaying good behavior, and so on. Following these values promises to put every child in suburbia on the same general path to success: acceptance to college and a fulfilling career to follow. Seen within this structure, drug dealing can offer a kind of resistance against the system. Jacques and Wright note that occurrences of suburban drug dealing were often a child’s expression of individuality from their parents. Within suburbia, however, even this supposed “risky” act won’t sabotage a proper future.

In the inner city, however, there is rarely an inherent set of values and well-laid path to success. With bleak future prospects and lack of a proper network out of the inner city neighborhoods, the path to survival inevitably leads to the “underground economy.” Once engaged in drug dealing in an urban setting, there is very little chance of escaping according to Goffman in On the Run. In her observations, she notes the cycle of incarceration that defines the lives of those in certain inner city neighborhoods. Once convicted of crimes, young men enter a world defined by mistrust of police, constant evasions, and inevitably more crime to survive due to lack of decent job prospects.

The dichotomy between drug dealing in the suburbs and the inner city sheds light on how the two areas are portrayed, and supports the idea of the “iconic ghetto.” The suburb is often described as quiet and safe haven with little crime. Any vice within the area is kept quiet and out of view. Urban settings are expected to be dangerous, crime-ridden areas and are dealt with as such. The “underground economy” is handled and portrayed harshly. This pre-established reputation only reinforces the cycle—bestowing a label on the residents that is nearly impossible to shake off. Growing up under this label sets the bar low for young men, pushing them into the world of drug dealing. Rather than being a phase as it is in the suburbs, urban drug dealing sets its participants on a path of constant incarceration and life “on the run.”