Change

When I first learned the old building housing the Roosevelt Market was up for sale, it seemed that neighbors had been handed an opportunity to change a cycle of uncertainty for an important community asset. Rather than allow change to be imposed from elsewhere, this seemed like a chance to manage change internally and intentionally. As a community, we could do something to preserve a family of assets occupying the building across from the neighborhood school.

By ‘assets,’ I refer here to Susan, Nicky and their amazing team; I refer to the energy and hospitable vibe they all create through their hard work, good will and endless patience, humility and generosity.

The building itself is just a shell. Just like a church congregation or school, the space the Market occupies is secondary. The ‘sense of place’ is created by activity and energy, not walls. The shell housing the market may not be architecturally significant, but it fits into the setting of the East End neighborhood like a pebble in the hand, because it was always meant to be a market. Birds gotta fly, fish gotta swim, and that humble structure’s gotta be a neighborhood market.

I work in community and economic development throughout Idaho, so I see lots of examples of what I consider essential social enterprise, whether it’s a neighborhood bar, pharmacy, community center or feed store. You can spot them by the people (of all ages and incomes) and dogs (purebreds and mutts) constantly in orbit, and the fact that most of the people are drinking something, and all of the above are socializing. The Roosevelt Market fits that description.

Historically, income from the market has been barely enough to cover expenses, with a little left over for a modest living (barring any hiccups). A new and larger mortgage wasn’t going to help matters.

The idea of a community purchase was a pretty straightforward, if unconventional response to this challenge: pool our resources to retire the mortgage on the building and hold the property in a ‘community land trust.’ No one I talked with wanted to possess the building; but just about everyone shared my own feeling: we wanted to invest in our neighborhood. It might have worked in this case or failed miserably; we can't know if it would be better or worse than an individual landlord, just that some aspects would have been different.

By removing the mortgage from the equation, a land trust could settle on a sustainable lease—one that would cover taxes and insurance with enough left over for a reserve fund and operation, repair and management costs. This would let the Market operators make a living and nurture that sense of place we all have come to appreciate. Most importantly, the folks I heard from said if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The consensus was to let Susan and Nicky continue on as before, since that’s what the customer base wanted. I couldn’t agree more.

A complicating factor is that there are two separate entities: an early 1900s building with no land, setback or foundation; and a business called the Roosevelt Market. New landlords own the building now. Like any landlord, they can increase the rent, impose a new lease, or evict the tenants for some other reason; it’s called property rights. Once the deal closed with the realtor—from my perspective—the door to shared community ownership and direction for that specific building closed along with it. As the saying goes, all’s fair in love, war and real estate.

Who knows? The new owners—long-time East End residents—may be just what the building needs at this stage, and taking on this project involved risk and responsibility. Emotions are pretty high, particularly in the aftermath of the Hollywood Market, a fact that complicates the transition.

Personally, I want to learn from this and use the resulting lessons to help other neighborhoods and communities. Around the world, there are great examples of community supported enterprise, cooperative stores and land trusts for everything from farming and ranching to workforce housing. What interest me are opportunities for creativity and cooperation that bring communities together.

Time will tell how things play out with the Market and its current location, and neighbors will each form an opinion on the outcomes based on any number of factors and perceptions. I wish everyone involved the very best, and only hope that the inevitable change doesn’t damage the many long-standing relationships that make this neighborhood a darn cool place to live.

So far, things seem to be moving along on an even keel, and I think everyone is grateful for that. Remember to shop local!