Columbia University’s infection of West Harlem: Gentrification under the guise of education

What Columbia calls progress, Harlem feels as the slow unraveling of its community and history.

Photography by Sherry Chen/The Barnard Bulletin

By Sky Cross

January 2, 2025

It’s 6 p.m. on a Friday night. I position myself in front of the renowned Apollo Theater, the world moving around me in purposeful hoards. A testament to the deep cultural roots of Harlem, the landmark seems like the perfect place to begin investigating where exactly the gentrification begins, where it ends, and where it all blends together into a noisy blur. 

Just a few steps away from me sits the Renaissance New York Harlem Hotel, whose grand opening was just a year ago. Though the name suggests a tribute to the Harlem Renaissance — along with the interior, which displays a variety of artwork depicting influential Black figures such as Billie Holiday and Langston Hughes — the current reality is something more dim. 

I find John, a native resident of Harlem, outside the Renaissance Hotel, which he incredulously states replaced the Loew’s Victoria Theater — one of the greatest theaters in the era of the Harlem Renaissance. “You wouldn’t even know what this is if I didn’t tell you,” he says. The culture of the theater, as well as the street surrounding it, which he states “all used to be Black stores, on both sides,” has essentially turned to dust.

John’s complaints bring up an important criticism. When culture is forcefully dispersed, something must replace it — something that all too often indulges wealthier, whiter audiences. Positioned so conveniently on the outskirts of Harlem, Columbia University and Barnard College are guilty of precisely this.

Columbia University and Barnard College seem to boast about their neighborly connection with Harlemites every chance they get. Columbia University’s Office of Public Affairs, for example, proclaims that they “support an equitable ecosystem in Harlem and Upper Manhattan with mutually beneficial outcomes for the University and the community.” This relationship of supposed mutualism allows Columbia University students convenient access to historical sites and shopping centers, a one-of-a-kind sense of immersion in Black culture, and millions of diverse Instagram photoshoot opportunities. Harlemites, on the other hand, receive drastic increases in rent, threats of displacement (which often come to fruition), an influx of Airbnb’s, and a surge in businesses such as Whole Foods and Trader Joes’ that apathetically puts local mom-and-pop shops out of business. 

As the dynamics and community of Harlem shift and contort to make space for Columbia University and its expansion, as neighbors of Harlem we have an obligation to reevaluate this relationship and its implications. Is this mutualism — or something more parasitic? And are we, as students and faculty, the parasites?

This parasitism is not one unique to Columbia University and Barnard College. Cities across the country (specifically ones composed of majority Black and Brown residents) are experiencing rapid and immense gentrification. Further, there seems to be a prominent correlation between the expansion of colleges and universities and the acceleration of gentrification; instances such as the development of John Hopkins University into East Baltimore, University City’s impeding on West Philadelphia, or UChicago’s exploitation of the South Side are all testaments to this. Because colleges are ultimately large scale businesses, their presence leads cities once built around thriving community relationships to begin to reorient themselves and prioritize profit, thus causing a blatant disregard for native residents in lieu of accommodating higher-income (and often white) visitors and potential homebuyers. 

It is additionally noteworthy that Columbia University is the largest private landowner in New York City with over 320 properties valuing approximately $4 billion, meaning the University surpasses even NYU and The Catholic Church. Columbia’s participation in urban expansion is relatively more extensive than its similarly urban counterparts, which places Harlem at a greater vulnerability to gentrification.

The impacts of gentrification in Harlem are most noticeable in surges of housing prices, which have seen an increase of 247% in the past decade. As pricing of homes increases, native residents are unable to continue paying rent and effectively forced out; in return, landowners actively seek out wealthier residents willing to pay higher prices. In a complete disregard of these circumstances, Columbia University continues to expand further into Harlem. Their largest and most recent series of expansions, haughtily titled “Manhattanville,” intends to continue spreading Columbia’s reach into West Harlem. In 2003, the project was proposed by Lee C. Bollinger, ultimately leading to the state of NY promising “17 acres of land between 125th street and 133rd street” to Columbia University for the purpose of expansion.

Columbia University’s expansion does not come out of necessity, but capitalistic drive. Because schools such as Cornell and the University of Pennsylvania are in a constant state of growth, the ceasing of outward expansion by Columbia University would lead them to fall behind their competitors in education, threatening their standing as a powerhouse university. It would also likely lead to the decrease of funding grants allotted to the school for development. The implication of this extensive advancement, however, is that colleges and universities will never stop buying out surrounding land, and consuming culture as they do so. The race for large, prestigious universities to expand relentlessly has consistently come at the cost of minority dense communities and decades of culture. Displacing and harming native residents is evidently considered mere collateral damage, and will remain to be so without large movements of activism and resistance.

The expansion of Columbia into West Harlem has a variety of environmental, social, and economic impacts on the surrounding community. Building extensively, for starters, would inevitably lead to a high saturation of pollution in surrounding neighborhoods; increased air pollution would irritate those with respiratory illnesses, while possibly leading others to develop them. Further, the science research facilities included in Manhattanville involve experiments on substances including viruses such as SARS and HIV; for minorities of Harlem with already persistent feelings of distrust in regards to the medical industry, it is likely that the relationship between the community and these facilities will be tense and anxiety-ridden at best.

When interviewed, multiple Harlem residents mentioned fears of these impacts, with their primary concerns being regarding their seemingly inevitable displacement. Along with pricing surges and a decrease in housing spaces, the operation of the newly built facilities will cause an inpouring of new high-income residents seeking out jobs and prestigious education or research opportunities. Spaces once catered to minority communities will begin to cater to these new residents. These developments are often among the most noticeable impacts of gentrification. Large chain businesses popular in wealthy communities, such as Trader Joes, begin to pop up in excess, while small businesses slowly disappear. 

Natalie R., a longtime Harlem resident, describes how “it's a different vibe.” She laughs, saying “I never thought I would see a Whole Foods on 125th!” But despite the slight humor in the situation, she reminisces fondly on different days for Harlem. The presence of large chain stores causes street vendors to face hostility in return for very little profit. “There used to be a lot of street vendors, and I feel like those street vendors are either getting harassed or it’s not worth it for them anymore because people are just ignoring them,” Natalie said. 

The despairing truth seems to be that new residents of Harlem are searching for the convenience of repackaged culture in an environment comfortable for them — this involves the intentional removal of minority residents, as they are not conducive to the image of a safe, modernized, and charming neighborhood. 

Though Natalie, like many others, affirm they can understand the desire to have safe areas for students to live, she asks that institutions such as Columbia simultaneously ask themselves, “How much space are you trying to take up, and who are you replacing in that process?”

Among those most disproportionately displaced include the ethnically Dominican community of Harlem. 

Maria Terrero, a resident who moved into Harlem from the Dominican Republic in 1972, shares similar grievances to John and Natalie. She states that “spaces are smaller” and “way more expensive,” and while she is able to continue living in Harlem, many others from her original community are not so lucky. 

The change in demographic is noticeable. According to studies performed by Community Service Society, the Black population in West Harlem (specifically between West 110th street and West 155th street) has declined by 14% between 2010 and 2020, while the Hispanic population has declined by 10%. 

This decline directly followed the beginning of Columbia University’s development in West Harlem. Simultaneously, the population saw an increase of 11.4% in white Harlem residents and a 43.2% increase in Asian Harlem residents.

Columbia University has claimed on multiple occasions that they would take initiative to minimize negative community impact. In the West Harlem Community Benefits Agreement of 2009 (CBA), Columbia University “acknowledged its intent to collaborate with the Local Community.” The CBA was negotiated upon by Columbia University and a group of “elected officials, community, civic and business leaders in West Harlem.” 

Throughout the CBA, Columbia University described the benefits of their Manhattanville Campus to the local community, including a “Benefits Fund of $76,000,000,” “an Affordable Housing Fund of $20,000,000,” “up to $4,000,000 in related legal assistance benefits,” and “$20,000,000 in access to CU facilities, services, and amenities.” 

These promises seem to have been both minimally fulfilled and largely unimpactful. Despite the agreement being made over fourteen years ago, Columbia University has only fulfilled six of all 39 Community Benefit Agreement promises. Further, a dismal 13 percent of expansion spending has been dedicated to neighborhood-based companies. 

And in regards to public access, the community has reason to doubt the legitimacy of how long they will remain public domain. With Columbia University shutting down its main campus to the public in the recent year, the stability of Columbia's “mutual” relationship with Harlem seems to be consistently diminishing. 

With the construction of Manhattanville and the expansion of campus to 134th Street continuing until an approximated 2030, the need to acknowledge and take action against Columbia University’s impeding on the Harlem community grows more persistent. 

When a community is displaced, “if it doesn’t find another place to go, it's just completely erased, lost in time,” says Natalie R. As an institution that devotes itself to researching the rise and fall of centuries worth of cultures, how long will it take Columbia to recognize the part it is playing in the death of Harlem?