A Community Forced to Play the Infrastructure Squid Game

 

(Source: ABC13.)

In April 2021, Sara and her family witnessed the arrival of heavy machinery along with over a dozen unfamiliar faces on their street. At first, her son Mateo (age seven) was in awe of the construction vehicles, since up until that point, the closest that he had been able to get near one was by playing with his Bob the Builder toys.

In 2003, Sara’s family moved into the Northeast Houston neighborhood of Lakewood, a traditional African-American community with an increasing number of Spanish-speaking residents. Lakewood sits on the outer banks of two bayous, placing it in a precarious position during hurricane season. Sara recalls how her family navigated the impacts of Hurricane Harvey, one of largest natural disasters in recent American history: “My husband made the call at midnight, when the hurricane hit, to leave the house and seek refuge at a relative’s home. A few days after the hurricane, we came back to our house to find it completely destroyed.”

Despite this, for Sara’s family and most of her neighbors, permanently leaving the neighborhood is not a solution. While the City of Houston and Harris County have bought out a few of their neighbors and extended the offer to buy Sara’s home, the family has chosen to stay. “We know this community floods, but the cost of living in Houston has skyrocketed. There is no way we can buy another house in the city with the amount of money the government is offering,” she says.

Houston and Harris County continue to look for other ways to manage the flooding that this neighborhood encounters each time it rains, but so far have yet to properly address the issue. For example, in 2018, a year after Hurricane Harvey devastated the city, voters overwhelmingly approved a bond referendum that would have allowed Harris County to address flooding associated with the bayous. Unfortunately, in March 2021, Harris County acknowledged that it was short $1.4 billion for flood control projects that were primarily set aside to assist Halls and Greens Bayou, located near Sara’s residency.

Sara's family and neighbors—who are largely considered low income, elderly, migrant, and working class—were not aware of the issues that Harris County encountered. For this community, which depends heavily on public transportation, it would require a 40-minute walk to the nearest bus stop and an almost two-hour bus ride to reach City Hall and County Chambers, where policies are debated. Many of Sara's neighbors do not have the flexibility and knowledge to attend the daytime meetings that take place with both government entities. They assumed that the construction crews were there to repair the street and address the constant flooding, and that the project would be completed in a timely manner.

As one of Sara's neighbors would later say during a television interview (shown above), "Once this gets complete, it's just like hitting the lottery. That's just how happy I will be." Her statement was made five months after the supposedly three-month project, spearheaded by the City of Houston, had begun. By that point, neighbors had started calling their local council member, and subsequently the local media, to complain about the ordeal they had been experiencing due to the lack of communication about the project completion date, and the hazardous conditions that construction had created in the neighborhood.

While the community may have initially felt the project’s completion would be like winning the lottery, the reality is that they were forced to play an infrastructure-based “Squid Game,” where neighbors found themselves navigating both man-made and natural dangers every single day. Things took a turn for the worse in July 2021 when the city decided to strip the entire street—the only access point for the residents to leave their homes—into a skeleton, leaving it exposed to natural disaster. The community had not been given proper notice, which the city later claimed was the responsibility of the construction company, which had made the decision to strip the entire street because of the wear and tear it had sustained throughout time. The issue with the decision was that it was made at the start of hurricane season, which delayed construction for months. 

Construction in Lakewood lasted for seven months, blocking residents’ access to their own homes. (Source: ABC13.)

When Mateo and his siblings started school, the family devised several strategies on how to properly leave the house each day and navigate the construction site, especially during rainy weather. First, they created a makeshift wooden ramp to bring their vehicle inside the garage. However, that strategy proved unsuccessful due the weight of the vehicle. Second, they opted to park the vehicle a block away from the construction site. At first, they attempted to cover their shoes with trash bags to protect them from the mud covering the street, but quickly the strategy deteriorated when they found that tree branches littered about the area would cut through the bags. Finally, Mateo’s mother decided that she would need to carry him on her shoulders to make the journey across the street safely. The goal was to make it across to a neighbor’s yard, where there the grass was untouched by the construction site. Finally, they had to make sure that they walked slowly, lest they slip and fall before reaching their vehicle. They endured this routine for weeks.

A resident of Lakewood navigates its dangerous streets during construction. (Source: ABC13.)

Finally, in October, seven months after the construction was over, Sara’s family and her neighbors could celebrate. Finally, they could feel like they’d won the lottery—or perhaps an early Christmas gift. …Except what they’d actually received was “coal,” as one of Sara’s neighbors stated when he was asked to describe the new street. The city had decided to turn the once paved street into asphalt. Sara pointed out that the new street already has holes and is uneven.

“I give this street less than one year to completely deteriorate,” said J.R., another neighbor who has lived in the community for over 20 years.

“It is a shame that we went through so much and all we got was a street that will not last,” added Sara, “At least I know what strategies I will use next time to take my children to school.” 

What lessons can this Northeast Houston community teach government entities about public participation and how to implement public infrastructure?

(Source: ABC13.)

The decision to strip the street and the failure to properly notify Sara’s family and her community led to them being forced to find other, less safe ways to navigate their daily activities, especially when it rained. Many of them were forced to park their vehicles up to three blocks away, or attempt making makeshift ramps outside their driveway. 

According to the City of Houston Public Works website, the community should have been notified by the contractor about the project. However, Sara’s family claim they were given a letter stating that the project would take three months after construction started. Other neighbors who were interviewed claimed that they did not receive any notice at all. The Public Works Department did notify the local councilmember, but members of Lakewood (even decades-long residents) were not all familiar with who their councilmember even was.

Moreover, the City of Houston Public Works website does not provide a portal where construction sites can be located in real time. While government entities continue to advocate for infrastructure funding, it is vital that the community be included in the decision-making process and outcomes, especially with communities of color. The last thing any community wants is to play a construction-based Squid Game.

 

 
 

 

Juan Antonio Sorto is a first-generation college student from El Salvador. He is a Doctoral Candidate at Texas Southern University School of Urban Planning and Environmental Justice. His dissertation focuses on the way public participation influences the placement of affordable housing in higher opportunity communities. He is an accomplished author and recurring contributor to the Rice University Kinder Institute for Urban Research Urban Edge, where he has previously written articles about environmental justice, land-use planning, public policy, and public participation within the City of Houston. His work has also appeared on Latino Rebels. You can get in touch with Juan on LinkedIn.