For fifty years, American opinion on abortion barely moved.  Then the Dobbs decision happened. 

This week in North Philly Notes, Laurel Elder, Steven Greene, and Mary-Kate Lizotte, coauthors of Not Going Back: Public Opinion on Abortion in Post-Dobbs America, explain how and why public opinion has shifted since the Dobbs decision. 

June 2026 marks four years since the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization overturned Roe v. Wade, ending the constitutional right to abortion access. This anniversary provides an important opportunity to assess how public opinion has evolved in the wake of this seismic shift.

We have spent our careers researching gender and public opinion, from the gender gap, to the politics of parenthood, to views on candidate spouses. It was a natural extension of our work to examine abortion, one of the most visible and consequential gender-related issues in American politics.

Our research on abortion attitudes began well before Dobbs. What initially drew our attention was the remarkable stability of public opinion on the issue. While political debates often framed the issue as a stark divide between “pro-life” and “pro-choice,” most Americans held more nuanced, situational views, supporting legal access to abortion in some circumstances but not others. Despite high-profile political battles and public debate, aggregate public opinion on abortion remained strikingly stable for nearly half a century.

Dobbs disrupted that equilibrium. In Not Going Back we examine how and why public opinion has shifted and how American politics has been changed as a result.

As policy moved sharply to the right in the wake of Dobbs, with more than a dozen states enacting near-total abortion bans and others enacting strict limitations, public opinion moved in the opposite direction. More Americans now identify as pro-choice and support legal access to abortion under all circumstances. The result is a growing disconnect between law and public sentiment, one that is reshaping the political landscape.

One of our most notable findings is the emergence of a gender gap in abortion attitudes. Contrary to common assumptions, men and women held very similar views on abortion for decades. After Dobbs, however, women have become significantly more supportive of abortion rights than men.

This shift is driven in part by personal experience and exposure. Individuals who know someone who has struggled to access abortion care, who worry about losing access themselves, or who have a deeper understanding of reproductive health are more likely to support abortion rights. In the post-Dobbs environment, exposure to these realities has increased, especially among women.

We also find a notable reversal in issue prioritization. For decades, Republicans and those identifying as pro-life were more likely to rank abortion as a top political issue. After Dobbs, that dynamic flipped. The energy and urgency now lie with those who support expanded access to abortion.

This shift reflects, in part, divisions within the Republican coalition. While Democratic voters are largely aligned with their party’s pro-choice stance, Republicans are more internally divided. Roughly one-third of Republicans identify as pro-choice, creating a sizable group of cross-pressured voters. Our research shows that such cross-pressures are associated with lower voter turnout in the post-Dobbs era, posing an ongoing challenge for the GOP.

Our findings also highlight a key political reality: there is no widely accepted “moderate” abortion ban. In survey experiments, Americans did not view a 12-week ban as meaningfully more acceptable than a 6-week ban. In the post-Dobbs context, a ban is a ban, and bans are broadly unpopular. This creates a difficult strategic landscape for Republican candidates seeking to find more moderate positions on abortion.

The phrase that became our title—Not Going Back—emerged from the data. The forces reshaping public opinion, from policy change to increased personal exposure, are not temporary. As a result, public opinion is unlikely to return to its pre-Dobbs equilibrium. This new landscape will shape how candidates campaign, who wins elections, and how they govern. In short, Dobbs did not simply change policy; it set in motion a lasting transformation in American public opinion and politics.

We invite you to explore these findings in our new book.

Time to Remember French AIDS Activism

This week in North Philly Notes, we repost the February 12, 2020 blog entry by Christophe Broqua, author of Action = Vie, about Act Up-Paris.

Since the end of 2018, large-scale mobilizations in France by activist groups have challenged the authorities and demanded more social justice. The “Yellow Vest” movement holds demonstrations every Saturday in Paris. Among the streets that they have regularly occupied—sometimes without providing advance notice to the Prefecture (as prescribed by French law)—is the famous Avenue des Champs-Élysées, which stretches from Place de la Concorde to Place de l’Étoile, where the Arc de Triomphe is located, an area largely inaccessible for street demonstrations.

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Twenty-five years earlier, on December 1, 1993, the AIDS organization Act Up-Paris braved the difficulty of demonstrating in this same area by placing a giant condom on the Obélisque de la Concorde. They also blocked the top of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées on December 1, 1994, an action illustrated by the photo on the cover of Action = Vie: A History of AIDS Activism and Gay Politics in France. At the time, Act Up-Paris was considered one of the major social movements in France. The organization met with considerable success in terms of mobilization as well as media coverage and political impact—contrary to the predictions of failure that it had initially inspired.

Indeed, when Act Up-Paris was formed in 1989, the vast majority of local commentators thought the organization, based on the American model, could not succeed. They reproached it for being a lame copy, unsuited to the French context. That it was linked to the gay and lesbian community undoubtedly added to mistrust and discrediting of the organization. The success of Act-Up-Paris, however, continues the long French protest tradition—it reached its peak in the mid 1990s. The criticism was indicative of the tense relationship between the French and the United States, rather than of the relevance (or not) of political activism in the face of the epidemic in France. Indeed, France is dominated by an ideology that claims to reject “communitarianism” in favor of “republican universalism,” but which, in reality, fears political organization of oppressed or stigmatized minorities more than anything.

Nevertheless, the success of Act Up-Paris had some limitations, particularly when new treatments led to a drop in HIV/AIDS-related mortality, at least in the Global North. Little by little, without ever disappearing, the organization got smaller, while the other dominant AIDS organization in France, AIDES—inspired by the Gay MHC (New York) and the Terrence Higgins Trust (London)—succeeded due to their commitment to helping individuals. In contrast, Act Up defined its actions as strictly political. In the 1990s, Act Up-Paris had become a major player in the AIDS fight and gay rights movements, but lost its media visibility in the following decade and was virtually unknown to new generations.

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This progressive erasure and oblivion slowed in 2017 with the release of the film, BPM (Beats Per Minute). Directed and co-written by Robin Campillo a former member of Act Up-Paris, the film retraced the first years of the organization in a fictional but very realistic way. It also included a tragic love story between two activists, Nathan (Arnaud Valois) and Sean (Nahuel Pérez Biscayart). Debuting at the Cannes Film Festival, the film won the prestigious Jury Grand Prize. From the outset, critics were ecstatic in their support of the film and the emotions it stirred. When it was released in cinemas, it was a huge success; in just a few months more than 800,000 tickets were sold. This tremendous response to a past that was largely forgotten, especially among the new generation, was impressive. For younger viewers, it was the discovery of a heroic past that many people did not know about; for older viewers, the film stirred memories of difficult times or the feeling of having missed out on history.

Overall, the film enabled society to indulge in a kind of collective redemption in the face of what it had not wanted to see—i.e., an epidemic affecting stigmatized minorities who used forms of political action to survive. Far from being an isolated phenomenon, the movie success was part of a larger remembrance process affecting both the history of the fight against AIDS as well as the mobilization of sexual and gender minorities in various European and North American countries.

Alas, this rediscovery of Act Up-Paris was focused mainly in France, as the film BPM did not enjoy the same commercial success in the United States, though it fared well critically.

French history is strongly connected to American history: the founder and several important activists of Act Up-Paris went through Act Up New York, which also represented an important model for the French group. Later, Act Up-Paris became the largest Act Up group in the world.

Now that time has passed, will its history finally be discovered beyond the French borders?

Inside the UAW’s Uphill Battle to Organize Southern Auto Plants

This week in North Philly Notes, Abe Walker, author of Reassembling the UAW, writes about the Volkswagen workers’ vote on tenative contract agreement.

After over 500 days of tense negotiations, workers at Volkswagen’s Chattanooga Assembly Plant are voting this week on a proposed contract agreement. Results are expected by tonight. If ratified, the deal would be the United Auto Workers’ first contract at a major foreign-owned automotive plant. My new book, Reassembling the UAW: Insurgency, Contention, and the Struggle for Unionism in the American South, chronicles the decade-long, hard-fought organizing campaign that led to this moment and offers a tentative prognosis for the future. 

For as long as most autoworkers can remember, the story of the UAW has been one of managed decline. As deindustrialization and economic restructuring eroded its Midwestern base, it struggled to make inroads at the new crop of European and Japanese “transplants” that dotted the I-75 corridor south of Ohio. Politicians were eager to sell the South as a low-wage haven for foreign investment and fought back savagely against anyone who dared to challenge their business model, pushing the lie that Southern culture is uniquely hostile to unions. They portrayed the UAW as a job killer that would drive away industry and turn Southern boomtowns into post-industrial wastelands. Meanwhile, the union settled into a pattern of concessionary contracts that did little to attract prospective members.

But in April 2024, the UAW broke its losing streak when workers at a VW plant in Chattanooga, Tennessee voted overwhelmingly to authorize the UAW as their exclusive bargaining agent. As my book explains, the pivotal factor was the resurgence of rank-and-file militancy. Following a corruption scandal that engulfed the union’s top leadership and led to the imprisonment of two former presidents, workers ousted the old guard and installed a slate of reformers. The new leaders struck a combative tone and committed to reversing decades of givebacks. As importantly, the reform caucus resolved to maintain its independence to keep its new leaders honest.  Within months, the newly emboldened organization had gone on strike against Detroit’s Big Three auto companies. The resulting contract included historic gains that demonstrated the power of collective action, injected the membership with new energy, and rebuilt the union’s image on a national stage.

Another contributing factor was the transition to electric vehicles. In previous decades, the threat of capital flight was the ultimate weapon in employers’ arsenal.  Politicians could credibly argue that companies would move production if the union won. By 2024, this threat had been neutralized, as VW had already invested billions in retrofitting the Chattanooga plant to produce the ID.4 SUV. Together with the Biden administration’s incentive programs, this massive investment in fixed capital effectively anchored the company in place.

Building on momentum from the Big Three strike and buffeted by external market forces, VW workers entered contract negotiations in 2024 with high expectations. If the union’s boldest proclamations were to be believed, after bringing VW to parity with the Big Three, it would parlay its victory across other transplants and take wages out of competition. 

But even as the union set its sights on bigger prizes, the tide had already begun to shift. Within weeks of the win at VW, the union was dealt a stinging loss at a Mercedes plant in Alabama. The rank-and-file caucus that helped elect the UAW’s reform slate collapsed amidst infighting, and the Trump administration turned aggressively against electric vehicles.

Back in Chattanooga, VW dug in its heels, and negotiations stalled out. History shows that winning an election is only half the battle; employers often use the negotiation phase to delay, demoralize, and eventually decertify the union. In the intervening years, not only did the UAW fail to organize additional transplants, but it couldn’t even plant its flag at Ford’s own BlueOval. 

My book went to production at the end of 2024, and it reflects a certain optimism that has since dissipated. As I note in the Conclusion, the VW victory was highly contingent and dependent on an unlikely confluence of factors. Powerful interests are deeply invested in maintaining the regional wage differential that has long characterized the American auto industry. As the Mercedes defeat and the ongoing contract fight at VW demonstrate, the forces of capital—and the political machinery of the South—remain formidable adversaries. Their entire economic development model is built on the promise of cheap labor. Dismantling that system will be a long fight, and nobody had any illusions that it would disintegrate after a single victory. 

The proposed contract is a mixed bag. It doesn’t achieve full wage parity, contains loose language on plant closure, and lacks strong healthcare provisions. Perhaps the greatest disappointment is that the UAW was unable to align the expiration date with the Big Three, whose contracts are set to expire on May 1, 2028.  Grouping VW with the other manufacturers would have had both practical value and symbolic meaning.

For now, the UAW’s future in the South remains indeterminate. It has successfully established a beachhead, but the win at VW looks increasingly like a one-off fluke. It remains to be seen whether the UAW can revive the energy and enthusiasm it enjoyed two years ago, or if it will revert to bureaucratic stasis.  

No matter what the future holds, the UAW has already demonstrated that Southern workers’ supposed aversion to organized labor has nothing to do with culture and everything to do with a lack of exposure to a fighting union.  Any serious student of history will reach the same conclusion. Textile workers in the Carolina Piedmont pioneered the flying pickets that the UAW would later make famous.  Indeed, as recently as 1950, Chattanooga had a unionization rate that rivaled Boston’s. Unions are as native to East Tennessee as moonshine. But ultimately, “reassembling the UAW” is not about dredging up the past or restoring a forgotten mid-century form, but creating a new entity capable of navigating the complexities of the 21st-century global economy. If there is a lesson to be gleaned from history, it is that the UAW can only achieve what was previously deemed impossible by reinventing itself on the fly

How do ordinary residents become political players when their everyday environments change?

This week in North Philly Notes, Anna Zhelnina. author of Private Life, Public Action, writes about the political movement that resulted from the Russian urban redevelopment project, “Renovation.” 
 

Housing controversies are rarely just about buildings. Across cities, they expose the deep entanglement of private lives and public decisions. Having a home is among the most private matters, yet housing is also deeply public, shaped by policies, development interests, and neighborhood change. When those forces collide, residents everywhere are reminded that home is never just a private shelter but also a political space.

In 2017, Moscow offered a dramatic example of how urban redevelopment can blur the line between private and public life. The city government unexpectedly announced “Renovation,” a plan to demolish thousands of Soviet-era apartment buildings and relocate their residents into new high-rises that, at the time, existed only on paper. The program would affect more than a million residents, homeowners and tenants alike, forcing them to think about their homes and their prospects and to decide whether to support or resist the proposal. Like housing struggles in many cities around the world, Renovation brought to the surface unspoken feelings and attitudes: trust and distrust in institutions, ideas about what a “good home” is, perceived injustices, and beliefs about the role of housing in being a proper citizen. What began as a technical redevelopment plan soon reshaped Moscow’s political field, a pattern familiar in other cities where contested redevelopment awakens civic life.

What followed was what I call a “political moment:” a period when everyday urban routines are disrupted and private citizens find themselves drawn into public life. In Moscow, such a moment brought waves of debates, protests, and neighborhood organizing, both in support of and opposition to the plan. Once the decisions were made, previously quiet residential areas had changed. Some residents eagerly anticipated their relocation, while others reeled at the loss of their homes. Many who had never been politically active before were now following local news, joining civic groups, or even running for office.

To understand these transformations – how people experience and act within sudden bursts of urban political life – I conducted a two-year study combining interviews, ethnographic observation, and media analysis. Private Life, Public Action uses this case to ask a broader question; How do ordinary residents become political players when their everyday environments change?

I explore how this wave of engagement emerged, how residents created it in formal venues such as public hearings and district assemblies, and how it circulated through informal spaces, including courtyards, kitchens, and stairwells. My field notes capture conversations overheard on buses, in Metro stations, and in small neighborhood shops, ordinary places where politics quietly seeped in. Like many urban controversies today, the debate over Renovation spilled across both digital and physical spaces. It reached deep into everyday life, stirring questions about civic dignity, trust, and the meaning of a decent home, elements of people’s housing and civic strategies which help them make their way in life. Even those who had long stayed private or apolitical found themselves rethinking their relationship to the city, to authority, and to one another.

Yet little academic research examined this human dimension of Renovation – the emotions, reasoning processes, and daily negotiations that accompany urban transformation. I argue that such micro-level experiences form the building blocks of political action; conversations between neighbors, small acts of organizing, and informal exchanges can aggregate into visible political change. Although the project centers on Moscow, its implications extend to cities everywhere facing redevelopment, displacement, or rapid growth. Even in global cities seemingly pacified by consumer comfort and infrastructural privilege, housing injustices and redevelopment-driven displacement can reactivate political life.

In the book’s final chapter, I examine how shifts in national politics, in this case, the contraction of civic space that followed Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, reverberate through urban civil societies. Not only can micro-level events build up to influence national politics, the reverse is also true, as international and national developments send shock waves that reshape urban everyday life. This dynamic interplay between political scales is not unique to Moscow. This is a defining feature of cities everywhere.

Celebrating a Century of Music Under the Stars

This week in North Philly Notes, Jack McCarthy, author of A Century of Music Under the Stars, writes about writing and researching his history of the Mann Center for the Performing Arts and Robin Hood Dell.

Writing A Century of Music Under the Stars: A History of the Mann Center for the Performing Arts and Robin Hood Dell was a rewarding experience for me. While I have been researching and writing about Philadelphia music for many years, the book added a whole new dimension to my understanding of the city’s musical and cultural history. I really enjoyed bringing to light the stories of the world-renowned artists and milestone concerts and events the venues hosted over the years, but what was especially fascinating was uncovering the behind-the-scenes efforts of the movers and shakers in Philadelphia’s musical, civic, political, and business worlds who came together to establish the Dell in 1930 and the Mann in 1976. How they navigated the city’s often challenging cultural and political landscape to build and operate the venues offers a revealing insight into how things worked in Philadelphia.

Of course, the stories behind the many great performing artists and ground-breaking concerts at the Dell and the Mann are a major part of the book. The Dell hosted Judy Garland’s first ever-public concert, Duke Ellington’s first concert with a symphony orchestra, Benny Goodman’s symphonic conducting debut, and Zubin Mehta’s American conducting debut, among other milestone events. The Mann, established in the wake of the cultural upheaval of the 1960s, evolved from a primarily classical venue built as a summer home for The Philadelphia Orchestra into a multi-faceted classical, rock, pop, and contemporary music venue. While continuing to host The Philadelphia Orchestra, the Mann now presents everything from epic multi-night shows by the jam band Phish to the Roots Picnic, now one of the nation’s leading showcases for contemporary Black music,.

It was really fun uncovering and interpreting these important stories. My challenge was to tell them engagingly and accurately—from the successes and triumphs to the difficult, sometimes uncomfortable developments—in a way that does justice to the rich history of Philadelphia’s two premier outdoor music venues.

Jack McCarthy also wrote this piece for Temple University Libraries’ Speaking Volumes Newsletter, about the research he did for his book.

Temple University Libraries’ Special Collections Research Center (SCRC) was an invaluable resource for A Century of Music Under the Stars. Highly illustrated with archival photographs and documents, the book traces the history of Philadelphia’s two beloved outdoor performing arts venues, “the Dell” and “the Mann,” which opened in 1930 and 1976, respectively.

In researching the book and selecting images to include, I spent many hours in the SCRC Reading Room, reviewing the extensive Philadelphia Inquirer and Evening Bulletin photograph and clippings files, as well as the records of the Philadelphia musicians’ union, Local 77 of the American Federation of Musicians. These sources were critical in documenting and interpreting the stories behind the Dell and Mann: the key individuals who came together to build and operate the venues, the many concerts and milestone events they hosted, the challenges they faced and triumphs they celebrated.

The Inquirer and Bulletin photographs are among the most important visual archival resources available on twentieth-century Philadelphia. Photographs from these collections form a large part of the 200+ images in the book, enhancing the narrative and telling the stories in ways that text alone cannot. While the photographs provide a visual history, the Inquirer and Bulletin clippings tell the narrative story. The Inquirer is available and searchable online, but the Bulletin, which ceased publication in 1982, is not. Thus, the SCRC Bulletin clippings are an especially unique and valuable resource. Even with the Inquirer, opening a packet of clippings filed by date or subject often led to serendipitous discoveries of important stories that I would not have thought to search for online.

The Local 77 records tell another key part of the story. The Philadelphia musicians’ union played a major role in the history of the venues, especially during initial planning for the Dell in 1930. At that time, the union agreed to a flexible payment arrangement for the Philadelphia Orchestra musicians who were to perform at the Dell; without this agreement, it would not have been feasible financially to operate the venue, and it is unlikely it would have been built. While newspaper reports tell the public side of this story, the Local 77 records reveal the internal discussions and behind-the-scenes negotiations.

SCRC’s rich archival resources are a treasure trove of Philadelphia history and were indispensable in writing my book. My sincere thanks to former SCRC Director Margery Sly; current staff Brenda Galloway-Wright, Josué L. Hurtado, Ann Mosher, and John Pettit; and everyone at SCRC for being so helpful in making these extraordinary materials available for my research.

In Praise of Rent Control

This week in North Philly Notes, Lauren Everett, author of Fortunate People in a Fortunate Landexplains the importance that living in rent control properties has on residents and communities. 

These days, it doesn’t take much to start a spirited conversation about housing unaffordability. Virtually everyone has an opinion about high rents and home prices, and a story about how it’s impacted them or someone they know. On a national level, the percentage of renters who are considered cost-burdened (paying more than 30% of their income for rent and utilities) is at an all-time high. Meanwhile, between rising sale prices and wage stagnation, the cost of buying a home is an increasingly inaccessible option for many.

In the midst of this ongoing crisis, cities across the U.S. and beyond are seeing strong pushes from tenant advocates for rent regulation policies like rent control and rent stabilization. Opponents of the policy often argue broadly that rent regulation “doesn’t work,” pointing to the law of supply and demand (or the “ECON 101” argument) and other supposedly self-evident deficiencies.

What would we learn if we asked tenants who live with the policy about its strengths and limitations, rather than just economists? My book, Fortunate People in A Fortunate Land: At Home in Santa Monica’s Rent-Controlled Housing, offers a new understanding of the policy through tenants’ lived experience. This case study is based on my dissertation research, and centers on interviews with 30 tenants who live across the city and have tenures ranging from three to over 40 years. I was inspired to explore this topic with a tenant-centered lens by my personal experiences as renter in Los Angeles, Austin and Portland, my years as a tenant organizer in Portland, and my family history of rent control activism in Santa Monica.

Santa Monicans voted to pass the city’s rent control law in 1979, in response to a housing affordability crisis similar to what we’re seeing today. At the time, over 80% of the city’s residents were renters. That year and in subsequent elections, voters also elected a slate of progressive city council members and mayoral candidates from the group Santa Monicans for Renters Rights (SMRR), ending the longtime reign of the previous growth-minded regime. In addition to rent control and other policies that would position renters as full stakeholders in the community, SMRR offered a progressive vision for a city that is a place to thrive for all residents.[1]

Though evaluating the success of this holistic vision is beyond the scope of the book, my research offers nuanced insight into what 45 years of a city truly committing to support its renter households looks like. I found that, despite calamitous legal loopholes at the state level that can undermine the policy’s positive impacts, for the most part the city’s tenant protections create stability and longevity for renter households.

Elegantly simple and cost neutral to manage, Santa Monica’s rent control program meets people where they’re at. For renters who are in their 20s and 30s, have moderate incomes, and are upwardly mobile, living in rent-controlled housing enables them to put down roots and plan for the future. Shorter tenures are likely to have rents closer to market rates, but the predictability and moderate interval of increases is still meaningful for these individuals. This finding is a notable departure from the erroneous notion that the policy’s intention is to support low-income households or create affordable housing. For households with young children, knowing that their kids will be able to attend the city’s excellent public schools and maintain social ties over the years is of great value.

For middle-aged tenants, having stable housing with affordable rent increases expands their life choices, factoring into big life decisions like a career change or attending graduate school. For tenants in their golden years, living in a rent-controlled home brings much-needed security as they head toward, and then into, retirement. Most of the elders I interviewed have lived in Santa Monica for decades and have deep attachments to the city and area. None would be able to afford to stay if they were to lose their home.

Contrary to the popular misconception that rent control benefits some at the expense of others, I found that the policy has positive outcomes that spill over beyond the individual household. It has enabled renters to really be integrated in and fully engage with their communities on a level more typical of homeownership in most parts of the country. This positively impacts the city’s social fabric, including neighbors, friends, schools and employers.

Participants in my study described how longevity of tenure has created social stability in their apartment building and/or neighborhood. Many people mentioned having good neighbors and a positive social atmosphere in the building as important components of feeling at home. Several long-time tenants described the sense of community that comes with knowing everyone on their block, at least by sight. Conversely, a few people mentioned apartments that are vacation rentals or have frequent turn-over as negative elements that detract from their sense of security and comfort in their buildings. 

A number of people also explained how the housing stability created by rent control and other tenant protections plays an active role in their capacity to build community and their decision to participate in various volunteer activities. This finding contrasts with stereotypes about renters as transient and disengaged, suggesting the relevant factor may be the terms of tenure, rather than the type of tenure.

Finally, many tenants reported a wide array of home repairs and improvements undertaken over the years at their own expense. This investment feels worthwhile for a home where they know they can stay and afford long-term. Yet the value renters in this housing create through this work, or when they invest time and resources in community-based organizations and other volunteer endeavors, hasn’t been considered in discussions about the policy. 

With Fortunate People in A Fortunate Land, I offer a fresh look at this controversial policy. Not only does centering the tenant experience bring a much-needed humanity to the discussion around rent control, but it also surfaces many unexamined positive outcomes.


[1] As a Santa Monican, it pains me to acknowledge that the White House Deputy Chief of Staff, Stephen Miller, is from our fair city. His family is in the real estate investment business, which is a fancy way of saying “landlord.” They own about 2,500 rental homes.

How did Camden, NJ manage to reduce its homicide rate by 75% in 12 years? 

This week in North Philly Notes, John Shjarback, author of Chasing Change in Camden, recounts the city’s efforts at police reform that contributed to significant crime reduction.

In 2012, Camden, New Jersey was under siege. There weren’t enough cops to patrol the streets of one of the most violent cities in the country. The year ended with 67 homicides, only 16% of which resulted in an arrest. To put that first number into context, if New York City experienced the same homicide rate as Camden did in 2012, there would have been more than 7,300 homicides. Instead there were 419 homicides that year. Camden’s homicide rate was more than 17 times higher than that of New York City.

Fast forward to 2024. Camden ended with 17 homicides, a 75% decrease from 2012. The city’s homicide clearance rate has also improved and ranged from 60% to 95% over the last five years. Chasing Change in Camden: Police Reform in One of America’s Most Violent Cities provides an in-depth examination of how these drastic changes were made possible, specifically through the dismantling of a sitting police department and creation of an entirely new agency from the ground up in 2013. It has been viewed as one of the greatest experiments of police reform in American history. And in the summer and fall of 2020, when the Minneapolis City Council debated whether to dissolve its current police department and start anew following the murder of George Floyd, this successful transition placed Camden and its new police department in the national and international spotlight.

The story of Camden is like that of many places throughout America. Once bustling with industry and well-paying manufacturing jobs, beginning in the 1960s and continuing into the 1970s Camden fell victim to deindustrialization, outsourcing, and white flight to the safer suburbs. The city is now 95% Black and Hispanic and suffers from extreme economic disadvantage.

Similarly, the Camden City Police Department was mismanaged, ineffective at addressing crime and violence, and experienced pockets of corruption among officers. Reform was nearly impossible despite a takeover from the New Jersey Attorney General’s Office and while the city was under complete state control.

Progress on these fronts was finally made possible starting in 2013. During 2011 and 2012, the city, county, and state negotiated the end of the Camden City Police Department’s 141-year run and the creation of the Camden County Police Department (CCPD). May 1, 2013 marked the official start of the new department. Chasing Change in Camden presents the contentious, rigorous debate that ensued during this period and the changes that resulted.

By most accounts, the CCPD functioned more effectively and made inroads into addressing crime and violence. Just two years in, Camden received a visit from U.S. President Barack Obama, who sang its praises. But the new department was not without controversy. The city supplemented its new department with tremendous investments in technology, which were not always viewed favorably. Aggressive tactics and enforcement, use of force, and citizen complaints of excessive force drew the ire of community and activist groups as well as the media. CCPD, in a sign of a healthier organizational culture, course corrected and managed to address some of these concerns. Chasing Change in Camden details these organizational changes, including the use of innovative training and the revamping of administrative policies to better manage discretionary officer behavior.

Although the book is a case study of a single city and its transition from one department to another, it is couched in the broader discussion of police reform and accountability and public safety. Chasing Change in Camden discusses threats to the overall progress of reform and accountability efforts not only in the CCPD but in American policing more generally. It highlights the limitations of a police-centric approach to crime and violence, while recommending more collaboration and co-production of public safety with community groups and non-law-enforcement approaches.

Whether you are a police officer/leader, researcher, policymaker, reformer, activist, or simply a concerned community member, you will find valuable lessons in Chasing Change in Camden.

How past mistakes deter planning for a better city

This week in North Philly Notes, Edward Epstein, author of Race, Real Estate, and Education, connects plans from Philadelphia’s urban renewal era to the current inaction on quality of life issues.

In Philadelphia, many of us are reeling from the prospect of severe service cuts in our public transit system, SEPTA. A budget shortfall of $213 million prompted the agency to discontinue or curtail dozens of routes and raise fares by more than 20 percent. Similar cuts are looming in other metropolitan areas, as emergency grants from the pandemic era have been exhausted. With little chance of more federal funding under the current administration, what can cities like Philadelphia do to prevent increased congestion and decreased quality of life?

An obvious solution is to curtail the need for commuting by encouraging more people to live in the city center. For years, city planners, urbanists, and environmentalists have touted the benefits of a dense, walkable urban core. Though it would take time, such a solution would be feasible because it would use resources the city has at hand. Philadelphia would incentivize the repurposing of underutilized land for housing. It would spur the creation of amenities and services, such as parks and schools, that appeal to those who currently commute from the suburbs. A partnership between the city, developers, and large nonprofits such as universities and hospitals—currently the drivers of the city’s economy—could undertake such a project. But as far as I know, no one is proposing it.

My book, Race, Real Estate, and Education: Inventing Gentrification in Philadelphia, 1960-2020, provides a clue as to why. Beginning in the 1950s, under the leadership of planning visionary Edmund Bacon and reformist mayors Joseph Clark and Richardson Dilworth, Philadelphia undertook just such a re-make. They eliminated industrial-age eyesores from the city center and redeveloped Society Hill as a residential enclave and center of historic preservation. In the 1960s, the University of Pennsylvania, under the aegis of the West Philadelphia Corporation (WPC), expanded the project to West Philadelphia, rebranding its surroundings as “University City” and encouraging university- and hospital-affiliated families to relocate there.

These efforts were successful in certain respects. For his part, Bacon was lauded in a 1964 Time magazine cover story, and his approach has been compared favorably with the scorched-earth policies of Robert Moses in New York. However, Philadelphia’s redevelopment projects resulted in the displacement of low income and primarily Black residents. In West Philadelphia, the WPC notoriously engineered the demolition of the Black Bottom, a predominantly Black neighborhood, using urban renewal funds that were originally intended to create better housing for the poor. The WPC’s actions spurred protests in the community and on campus, culminating in a 1969 sit-in in the Penn president’s office. The displacements that resulted have been seared into Philadelphians’ memories, putting a stain on the endeavor of city planning.

A unique element of the WPC plan was the use of education to attract affluent families. Though the WPC’s twentieth century efforts to create high-quality, neighborhood public schools were unsuccessful, they were revived in the twenty-first century with striking success under the administration of Penn President Judith Rodin. Rodin’s Penn Alexander School, a partnership between the university and the School District of Philadelphia, has earned stellar academic marks, and has led Drexel University to create its own K-8 school campus, Powel-Science Leadership Academy Middle School (SLAMS). These school-building projects, however, have contributed to skyrocketing housing prices in West Philadelphia and a further decline in the area’s Black population. It’s no wonder that the administration of Mayor Cherelle Parker hasn’t pushed the remake of central Philadelphia as residential enclave. Though a plan like this would have clear quality of life benefits, given past links between similar plans and displacement, it would be politically controversial. How do we justify creating homes for a wave of transplants, when rates of homelessness and housing instability are increasing among existing residents? Race, Real Estate, and Education details the mistakes planners, educators, and politicians made in past redevelopment efforts that led to this political quagmire. As we ponder a city after mechanized transportation, we would do well to learn from these mistakes so that we can move forward.

Books for Back to School

This week in North Philly Notes, we showcase some of our favorite new and classic education titles as students return to Temple’s campus.

A Collective Pursuit: Teachers’ Unions and Education Reform, by Lesley Lavery, argues that teachers’ unions are working in community to reinvigorate the collective pursuit of reforms beneficial to both educators and public education.

Dewey’s Dream: Universities and Democracies in an Age of Education Reform, by Lee Benson, Ira Harkavy, and John Puckett, realizes Dewey’s vision of making public schools the seedbed of a democratic society

Engaging Place, Engaging Practices: Urban History and Campus-Community Partnerships, edited by Robin F. Bachin and Amy L. Howard, shows how public history can be a catalyst for stronger relationships between universities and their communities

European Higher Education, Social Responsibility, and the Local Democratic Mission, by Sjur Bergan, provides global lessons from Europe’s experience developing a culture of democracy through higher education 

The Fantasy Economy: Neoliberalism, Inequality, and the Education Reform Movement, by Neil Kraus, shows how the contemporary education reform movement is a political campaign created to advance the free markets of neoliberalism

The History of Temple University Japan: An Experiment in International Education, by Richard Joslyn and Bruce Stronach, recounts how Temple University successfully established an innovative international branch campus in Japan that endured against the odds

The Impact of College Diversity: Struggles and Successes at Age 30, by Elizabeth Aries, reveals the benefits of learning from peer diversity during college and the impact that had on graduates’ lives

The Improviser’s Classroom: Pedagogies for Cocreative Worldmaking, edited by Daniel Fischlin and Mark Lomanno, explores improvisation as a fundamental practice for teaching and learning
 
Preparing Students to Engage in Equitable Community Partnerships: A Handbook, by Elizabeth A. Tryon, Haley C. Madden, and Cory Sprinkel, is a comprehensive handbook for community-engagement professionals to navigate the art of preparing students for humble, respectful, and equitable community partnerships

Announcing Temple University Press’ Fall 2025 Catalog

This week in North Philly Notes, we present our forthcoming titles in our Fall 2025 Catalog

Temple University Press’ Fall 2025 Catalog is chock-full of exciting books including the latest edition of Ray Didinger’s best-seller, The Eagles Encyclopedia, and a new project from Monument Lab as well as fascinating books on topics as diverse as counterstreams in migration, reimagining Black philosophical thought, and the history of Salem, MA. Check out the complete list below!

Arab American Public History, edited by Edward E. Curtis IV
Arab American public history done with and for the community

A Century of Music Under the Stars: A History of the Mann Center for the Performing Arts and Robin Hood Dell, by Jack McCarthy
Behind-the-scenes stories from Philadelphia’s world-renowned outdoor concert venues

Chasing Change in Camden: Police Reform in One of America’s Most Violent Cities, by John Shjarback
An in-depth examination of the Camden County Police Department’s reform efforts

Collective Effervescence, edited by Sébastien Tutenges and Philip Smith
Explores how the theory of collective effervescence can be applied in surprising ways to the study of charisma, crowds, music, religion, social media, and much more

Counterstreams in Migration: Ethiopians’ Choices to Stay, Leave, or Return, by Hewan Girma
Provides a 360-degree view of migration from the perspectives of non-migrants, returnees, and repeat migrants

Disabling Relations: Wounded Bodyminds and Transnational Praxis, by Sona Kazemi
Bears witness to disabled survivors of violence in Iran from war, incarceration, acid attacks, and torture

Disneyland Politics: How a Medium-Size City and Corporate Giant Coexist, by Peter F. Burns, Matthew O. Thomas, and Max R. Bieganski
Explores the long-term history and power dynamics between an economic giant—Disneyland—and its home city of Anaheim

The Door of No Return: Being-As-Black, by Michael E. Sawyer
Presents an alternative system of Black Radical Thought

The Eagles Encyclopedia: Champions II, by Ray Didinger with Robert S. Lyons
Celebrating the team’s second Super Bowl victory

Fortunate People in a Fortunate Land: At Home in Santa Monica’s Rent-Controlled Housing, by Lauren E. M. Everett
An in-depth look at the most controversial housing policy in America from a tenant perspective

Monument Lab: Re:Generation, edited by Paul M. Farber and Sue Mobley
Envisions rich and challenging historical narratives through artwork and essays by the nation’s leading monument makers and thinkers

Parent Trip: Unexpected Roads to Form a Family, by Anndee Hochman
Frank, hilarious, harrowing, and real stories of exuberantly diverse families and how they came to be

Private Life, Public Action: How Housing Politics Mobilized Citizens in Moscow, by Anna Zhelnina
Analyzes how residents’ personal housing strategies influenced their response to Moscow’s urban renewal

Race, Real Estate, and Education: Inventing Gentrification in Philadelphia, 1960–2020, by Edward M. Epstein
Explores the role of university-led K-12 educational interventions in Philadelphia’s transition to a postindustrial economy

Reassembling the UAW: Insurgency, Contention, and the Struggle for Unionism in the American South, by Abe Walker
How the United Auto Workers achieved a landmark victory at Volkswagen’s Chattanooga Assembly Plant

Reckoning with the World: South Korean Television and the Latin American Imaginary, by Benjamin M. Han
How Korean television formulates and exploits a monolithic imaginary of Latin America through the lens of East Asian modernity

Salem’s Centuries: New Perspectives on the History of an Old American City, edited by Donna A. Seger and Brad Austin
Four centuries of history inspired by the storied city’s quadricentennial in 2026

The Turkishness Contract, by Barış Ünlü
Now available in English—a historical and sociological analysis of Turkishness as a set of certain schemas for seeing, thinking, feeling, and acting, and certain privileges, real or potential

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