It is not perfect, but it is my neighbourhood : a qualitative research of feeling at home amongst residents of Old-East

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Abstract

This research explores the experience of ‘feeling at home’ of residents of Old-East. In light of current political climate, the notion of ‘feeling at home’ has drawn a lot of attention in mainstream society. Through the analysis of municipal policies, historical development and participants’ narratives concerning this topic, this research aims to illustrate what ‘feeling at home’ entails for residents and what influences these notions. This is done through ethnographic fieldwork in local community centers, participant observations in various activities and the in-depth interviews with participants. The in-depth interviews comprised of walks through the participants’ neighbourhoods as well as utilizing the Photovoice method. This allowed for a general opening up of participants in regards to emotions that are often difficult to grasp, and especially to explain.

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Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I want to express my gratitude towards the individuals that shared their

knowledge, life stories and their valuable time with me. The participants who led me through their neighbourhoods, the various individuals I met through the activities at community centers and the ones who could not participate but provided me with tips and tricks to navigate Old-East. Luckily, as a resident of Old-East myself, I shall probably see them on occasion, as they pass me by on the streets, hopefully aware of the enormous amount of gratitude I have for their help.

A special thank you to my supervisor Pamela Prickett. Thank you so much for your words of wisdom, inspiration and uplifting energy throughout these last few months. I always returned with renewed energy and inspiration after the informal and (dare I even say) ‘gezellige’ meetings. To Linda van de Kamp too, thank you, for your feedback and the willingness to be my second reader.

To Yelit Babacan, my partner in crime, my Turkish sister, thank you. I did not expect to find such a great friend in you when I started this Master, especially not after you stole my seat at the first lecture of Sociological Perspectives. Thank you for the endless games of shithead, for working days on end by my side for 14-hours straight at the library. And thank you for the fun we had, despite all the struggles throughout the process of writing this thesis.

Maria, my dearest mother, I am extremely grateful for your endless support, and as always, proud to be your daughter. Single-handedly, you have raised me and our little Swami to be independent young women, and having you as an example in life is a constant blessing. Samia, being your big sister and seeing you grow up to become this amazing young woman has been one of the most important tasks I have ever had and will have.

Arthur, throughout the years, in every single anti-kraak house, in all of the different neighbourhoods we lived in, you were my home. Thank you for your calming nature, patience and support.

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Introduction

At community center Post Oost, a discussion between two residents of Old-East, was drawing the attention of other people. As I walked towards the group of people seating themselves besides two native Dutch elderly ladies, the topic of the heated discussion became clear.1_{The topic was a newly} opened expensive design furniture shop, where previously a well-known butchery was located. What seemed to be a discussion from afar, turned out to be a conversation in agreement, as other people exclaimed their disbelief about the disappearance of the butchery. ‘It has been located here in the Dapperbuurt ever since I was a child’, Mia stated, as she went on to tell me about all the other things that had changed in the neighbourhood. This was not the first time I encountered individuals who did not appreciate changes in their neighbourhood. It did however initiate the development of an understanding of exactly why people became this enraged whilst discussing the process of gentrification in their neighbourhood. It threatens their perception of self, that is fostered through their attachment to their neighbourhoods.

Especially in contemporary political debates and mainstream media, an increase of the attention for the notion of ‘feeling at home’ has become salient. But even on a local scale, in my neighbourhood, residents worry about ‘feeling at home’. This does however not mean they worry about the influx of ‘immigrants, refugees or others’, but exactly the opposite. They worry about the influx of the ‘native Dutch’ middle-class. Their experience of ‘feeling at home’ is threatened by drastic changes to their neighbourhood, but pinpointing whatever it is that constitutes this ‘feeling at home’ proved to be extremely difficult. As explained by Duyvendak, the elusiveness of this emotion problematizes an accurate description (Duyvendak 2009). Therefore, this thesis aims to illuminate the topic ‘feeling at home’. What contributes to that feeling? What diminishes it? Is it specifically bound to the people inhabiting these places? Or exactly the opposite, does it refer to the physical environment? As a response to a plea by Boersema et al. (2009), for an emotional turn in sociology, this thesis combines the importance of place in the sociology of emotions, and the necessity of including emotions in studies of place.

To answer the questions mentioned above, I have conducted walks and sedentary interviews with residents of Old-East, participated in various neighbourhood activities an joined community centers. All of this, and the findings pertaining to these questions shall be discussed in later chapters. I shall first explain the context of Old-East, its neighbourhood design and demographics, its history and the local policy context. This allows for an understanding of the neighbourhood, before continuing with the literature review. This includes gentrification, social cohesion and citizenship, which enables the analysis of contemporary social phenomena on a local scale, the neighbourhood. Infused through these key themes are topics such as diversity and multiculturalism, which are analyzed in relation to gentrification, social cohesion and citizenship. Besides sociological debates and theories, quite some room has been made for the analysis of local policy, as they inform social interventions that strongly influence local lives as experienced by residents of Old-East.

1_{In this thesis, I employ the term ‘native Dutch’ when referring to an individual with two parents born in the Netherlands. The} term ‘ethnically diverse’ is utilized when it concerns individuals when at least one parent, or the individuals themselves, are born outside of the Netherlands. The correct term for people with another background is a difficult discussion, and whilst very much aware of the political connotations of the term ‘native’ and ‘ethnically diverse’, I view it as a better fit in comparison to other terms such as immigrants, or allochtonous residents.

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_{1. The case of Old-East}

This chapter shall explore the contextual influences that shape the lives of residents of Old-East, in order to develop an understanding of of the area and ultimately the lives of its residents. Therefore a brief explanation of the neighbourhood design, demographics, history, local politics and policy context is presented.

1.1 Neighbourhood design and demographics

Because Old-East comprises of neighbourhoods with similar physical and demographical characteristics, a few significant differences between these neighbourhoods become especially noteworthy. This calls for a short description of the characteristics of these neighbourhoods, which will inform a general understanding of Old-East as well as illuminate

the context of the lives of participants in this research.

The Weesperzijdebuurt, one of the earliest neighbourhoods built in Old-East, is characterized by monumental houses from the 19th century. Most of the houses, stately and beautifully decorated were built for the wealthy, as the attics even provided rooms voor servants (Heijdra & Popma 1996:56). Already in the 19th century, the neighbourhood allured the wealthy through its location right on

the Amstel canal, with several cafes and a promenade to stroll. Nowadays it is still the ‘wealthiest’ neighbourhood, in relation to the

average income and distribution of social housing versus owner occupied houses (OIS Dataset 2019). The Oosterparkbuurt, with the Oosterpark at its center,

consists of long streets, interrupted by four squares: the Iepen-, Beuken-, Eiken- and Kastanje-plein (ibid.:293).

Besides the residential function of the neighbourhood, it was developed with room for 400 to 500 stores and enterprises, mostly around the squares. This resulted in a middle class neighbourhood, in opposition to the Dapperbuurt and Transvaalbuurt, which were built as working class neighbourhoods with a few middle- and upper class

streets. Many of the houses were renovated during expansive city renewal programs in the 70s, which contributed to the departure of many residents to upcoming cities such as Purmerend and Almere.

2_{Linnaeusstraat (1920 & 2014), Dapperplein (1906 & 2014) and Tweede van Swindenstraat nr. 7 (1910 & 2014). Source:}

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8 “In comparison to the other 19th century neighbourhoods,

with their long streets, the Dapperbuurt is cozier, like a village. The monotony of buildings is broken up by the market, which is on the central Dapperplein and on the prestigious street to the square, the Dapperstraat. The market works as a magnet: the entire neighbourhood is involved because all streets are crossed by the Dappermarkt. After the Albert Cuypmarkt this is the most famous and busiest market in Amsterdam. Because almost half of the population is allochthonous, the market presents itself as eminently multicultural” (Liagre Böhl 2010:194).3

The Dapperbuurt was also built from 1876 onwards. Even though a few streets (especially facing the Oosterpark) called the ‘golden edges’ were of grand prestige, most houses were for the Protestant working class. Already in 1899 a few houses collapsed because of the low quality of the buildings and the neighbourhood became pauperized relatively fast (Liagre Böhl 2010:196). In the 70s and 80s of the 20th century, many native Dutch residents left and the first guest workers came to live in the many vacant houses. Eventually three quarters of the neighbourhood would be demolished from 1972 onwards by the municipality, but this was heavily fought for by protest groups such as De Sterke Arm (The Strong Arm) and an improvement to municipal plans to destroy the entire neighbourhood. Their involvement and protest focused on forcing the municipality to involve residents and promises of the possibility to return after the renovations. The municipality however, was more concerned with luring wealthier residents to the neighbourhood (ibid.:198). The Plan Duyff by architect W.T. Duyff, was manufactured in such a way that the poorer residents would have to leave due to rent increases, and the wealthier residents who had abandoned the neighbourhood for places such as Lelystad and Purmerend would be enticed to return. The plan was to decrease housing density and remove all 32 cafe’s, thus to halve the number of residents from 12.000 to approximately 6000 (ibid.:201). Only at the Roomtuintjes, the most north-eastern part of the neighbourhood, the drawings of W.T. Duyff came to life, which resulted in a part of the Dapperbuurt unlike the rest.

The Transvaalbuurt and its streets are named after the Second Boer War in South Africa between the English and the descendants of Dutch Boeren. The rebellious Boeren leaders were honoured with street names such as Krugerplein and De La Reystraat (ibid.:21)4_{. The neighbourhood was planned by the famous Berlage,} with curved and straight streets, interspersed by squares and small

3_{Translation by S. Blom}

4_{These streetnames have become heavily criticised later on and some streets were renamed, such as the Pretoriusplein which}

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9 gardens. The many working-class houses are surrounded by beautifully decorated monumental houses built for wealthier residents. The Transvaalkade, the street on the Ringvaart canal, houses many of these monumental buildings and the the wealthier residents of the Transvaalbuurt (OIS Dataset 2019). In 2017, just over 35.000 residents lived in the almost 19.000 houses situated in Old-East (OIS Gebiedsanalyse 2017).5_{Of these residents, more than a third (32 percent) are residents with a} non-Western background but this includes the Weesperzijdebuurt with only 19 percent non-Western residents. The Oosterparkbuurt, Dapperbuurt and Transvaalbuurt however house approximately 46 percent of residents with a non-Western migration background. This is a decrease from earlier times as still in 2005 the amount of residents with a non-Western background in the entire area of Old-East was 45 percent (Staat van de stad 2005:52). The majority of houses are still social housing (59 percent in 2017) but has significantly decreased (from 72 percent in 2011). There is an enormous increase in privately rented houses as well as owner-occupied houses. Simultaneously the rent of these private houses has increased as well as the prices of houses sold (OIS Gebiedsanalyse 2017:13). When walking the streets of Old-East, one can easily tell it is a multicultural neighbourhood. There are many Moroccan and Turkish bakeries and butchers, Surinamese and Indian restaurants and small shops, and the people walking the street are from various ethnic backgrounds.

1.2 Historical context

The area we now call Old-East used to be part of the vast rural outskirts surrounding Amsterdam with small settlements and farms, up until the expansion of Amsterdam (Heijdra & Popma 1996).6_This expansions and the successive annexation of the area in 1896 was an immediate result of the housing shortage in the city of Amsterdam. The annexation radically shaped the vigor and speed of construction in the area, where from 1902 onwards, plans were made for the neighbourhoods as we know them nowadays, the Dapperbuurt, the Oosterparkbuurt, the Transvaalbuurt and the Weesperzijdebuurt. The neighbourhoods were built for the working class and middle class, but comprise stately upper class residencies as well. These are often the borders of the neighbourhoods, still affectionately referred to as gouden randjes (golden edges) by current residents.

As customary in those times, the developments were led by several cooperatives that represented the different religious and ideological backgrounds in the times of pillarisation (Heijdra 1997:17).7_{The 1930s census shows that the Dapperbuurt was predominantly Protestant, the} Oosterparkbuurt Catholic, the Weesperzijdebuurt and the Transvaalbuurt Jewish (Heijdra & Popma

5_{Gebiedsanalyse 2017 is the most recent area analysis published by the municipality.}

6_{The earliest name for the area was Oetewaal and later on it was named Nieuwer-Amstel. See appendix nr.5 for maps of the}

area.

7_{Pillarisation is the term used for the times of official, normalized, complete segregation of Dutch society, on the basis of}

religious and political beliefs. This entailed segregated social institutions and organizations such as sports clubs, schools, hospitals, bakeries, newspapers and even banks. The 1930s census shows that the Dapperbuurt was predominantly Protestant, the Oosterparkbuurt mostly Catholic and the Weesperzijdebuurt and Transvaalbuurt mostly Jewish (Heijdra 1997:69).

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10 1996:69). The Second World War left deep scars in Old-East, as most Jewish quarters in the city center were cleared for demolition and they mostly settled in Old-East. After the Second World War, the neighbourhood had changed immensely, another housing shortage created an influx of new residents to inhabit the houses of deported Jews.8_{According to Heijdra (1997) this moment in time} precipitated the downward spiral of several neighbourhoods in Old-East. His analysis emphasises the influence of municipal policies and strategies to relocate ‘problem families’ to the Transvaalbuurt (Heijdra 1997:58). This caused many people to leave the neighbourhood, which was amplified when the first Moroccan and Turkish guest workers settled in the neighbourhood. They moved into the dilapidated houses as many native Dutch moved to Purmerend and Lelystad, where newly built family houses attracted the relatively prosperous middle-class, and those financially incapable of leaving remained. The majority of houses in Old-East were rapidly deteriorating and the eventually the municipality commenced with an extensive urban renewal project, with at the apogee the demolition of nearly three quarters of the Dapperbuurt (Liagre Böhl 2010:196). Aiming to entice wealthier prospective residents to Old-East, the municipality intended to decrease the housing density to make room for larger family houses (ibid.:201). The arrival of secretary Jan Schaefer in the office of City Renewals preluded better times for the residents of East. With his motto ‘You can’t live in bullshit’ (less political talk and more action for the people), he got residents to collaborate with the municipality and saved many of the houses deemed fit for demolition and had them renovated. In the beginning of the 90s, the grand urban renewal projects in East were finished.

1.3 Policy context

The improvements to the physical realm alone did not strongly improve the image of Old-East. When in the 70s and 80s the demographic composition of the neighbourhood drastically changed and tensions and racist conflicts arose, the foundation was laid for the ‘Vogelaar’ mark. Associated with crime, threat, juvenile delinquency, deterioration and racial tensions, the neighbourhood was frequently mentioned in the local and national newspapers with headlines such as ‘Shop suppliers don’t dare to enter the Transvaalbuurt, Drug dealers and users around Krugerplein and Afrikanerplein’ and ‘Transvaalbuurt, no-go?’.9_{According to the municipality, a high concentration of low educated,} unemployed, poor residents provided the basis for many of these social issues. The Vogelaar policies, aimed to change 40 problem neighbourhoods in the Netherlands to liveable neighbourhoods, were introduced in 2007. The Vogelaar approach rests on an intensive collaboration between municipality, housing corporations, social welfare organizations, local entrepreneurs and neighbourhood residents

8_{Unfortunately, the scope of this thesis did not allow for an expansive explanation of the impact of WW2 on Old-East and in}

particular the Transvaalbuurt. For now it suffices to say that entire blocks were cleared, Jewish culture in Old-East obliterated and neighbourhood dynamics irrevocably altered.

9_{https://www.parool.nl/nieuws/leveranciers-durven-transvaalbuurt-niet-in~bd86d3cd/}

https://www.parool.nl/nieuws/eerst-graffiti-nu-bedreigen-en-plunderen~b9066a87/

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11 (Musterd & Ostendorf 2009:13) The city of Amsterdam received 157 million euros from the national government and housing corporations to tackle issues in the 24 Vogelaar neighbourhoods of Amsterdam (Permentier et al., 2013:29). Then mayor of Amsterdam, Job Cohen stated:

‘Amsterdam feels strengthened by the government and minister Vogelaar, who has put neighbourhood problems on the agenda. The aim is that neighbourhoods that are not doing well (enough), become neighbourhoods where people live that have a real perspective on position improvement. And where liveability, safety and quality of life are well and they [neighbourhoods] don’t stand out negatively in comparison to other neighbourhoods in Amsterdam. Special neighbourhoods where everyone wants to live, work and recreate’ (Cohen 2007:1).10

The municipality’s approach rested on the prerequisite of residents’ participation. Through the implementation of a new neighbourhood policy, the Wijkaanpak (Neighbourhood Approach), residents themselves could submit ideas and plans to improve the specific local problems of their neighbourhood (van Kooten 2009:21). Their local expertise, and their appurtenant social responsibility were deemed to improve the possibilities for significant change (Permentier et al., 2013:24; Oude Vrielink et al., 2013:13). The Vogelaar funds were bestowed upon the Transvaalbuurt and Indische Buurt in East. Despite similarly severe social issues in the Dapperbuurt, Vogelaar funds were not allocated towards that neighbourhood, because the Dapperbuurt did not score as high on all problem areas as the other two. Ultimately, state-led gentrification proved to be the solution the municipality would employ to rid Old-East of ‘unwanted’ residents and behaviour (Uitermark 2014; van den Berg 2016; Kleinhans 2004). This was explicitly pronounced in several municipal reports and policies, such as the Staat van de Stad II of 2002, where it was declared that Old-East in general and the Transvaalbuurt in particular had become ‘a deteriorated neighbourhood with disadvantaged groups. The municipality strives to a differentiation of houses and population groups. In this strategy fits the sale of social housing, the sacrifice of post-war buildings and the replacement for more new owner occupied houses’ (Staat van de Stad 2002:36).11_{In order to improve the issues in Old-East, the} municipality employed gentrification strategies as well as social interventions. Nowadays, the municipality is slightly more optimistic about the area, but still has its concerns about several issues. According to municipal reports, Old-East is improving in regards to safety and crime, but is still slightly worse than the average in Amsterdam. Children in Old-East live more in poverty, utilize social services more, receive more help from child protection services, are more obese and juvenile delinquents in comparison to the average for children in Amsterdam. The average income is below the Amsterdam average and more residents are unemployed. For this reason, countless projects and associations were introduced to improve a myriad of issues, financial administration classes for residents below the poverty line, after school associations for children, meeting places and activities

10_{Translation by S. Blom.} 11_{Translation by S. Blom}

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12 to enhance social contact and cohesion between neighbours, and much more (OIS De Staat van de Aandachtswijken 2007). This problematization of the residents of Old-East has informed the myriad of social interventions and vigorous renewal projects in order to upgrade the neighbourhood in what we shall explain to be an example of state-led gentrification.

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2. Literature review

First we shall discuss some of the theories about gentrification and urban renewal, and then continue with national and local policies and its ramifications for Old-East. Secondly we shall discuss social cohesion theories and policy implementations. Thirdly we shall briefly discuss citizenship, as current demands placed on Dutch citizens pertain to a specific discourse of belonging that influences the experiences of residents in Old-East. Lastly, we shall discuss academic discussions on ‘feeling at home’, which will ultimately combine aspects of all above mentioned theoretical debates.

2.1. Gentrification

First coined by Ruth Glass in 1964, the term gentrification is used to explain a specific way of upgrading a neighbourhood (Glass 1964: p.xvii). The initial type of gentrification, individuals changing their newly bought houses to improve its quality, inspired other equally well to do middle class citizens to buy previously social housing apartments until most working class residents had been banished. This private, individual type of gentrification is significantly different from state-led gentrification. By exploring some of the extensive literature published on gentrification, we shall try to unravel the ways in which the municipality and its partners have influenced Old-East, and try to grasp the consequences of these policies and developments for its residents. This involves reviewing the meaning of gentrification and frequently used terms such as urban renewal, regeneration, -restructuring but also its potential consequences such as segregation and (racial) banishment. By incorporating municipal policies and critiques, the aim is to come to an understanding of how gentrification has altered Old-East, which we shall later on compare to the experiences of its residents. The expansive body of literature on gentrification generates a wide range of potential uses of the term ‘gentrification’. Some analyze gentrification with emphasis on the ‘elements of colonialism [and] the privileging of whiteness’ (Atkinson & Bridge 2005:2), others on state and municipal policies (Uitermark & Sakizlioglu 2014, Whyte 1988, Kleinhans 2004), and yet others on methods and strategies for resisting gentrification (Newman & Wyly 2006, Slater 2006). These different angles all employ a (slightly) different understanding of gentrification, and the daunting task to choose only one seemed improbable, better yet, impossible. But, Berg et al., (2009, in: Lees, Slater and Wyly, 2010) offered a well suited yet simple explanation:

‘Gentrification, to put it bluntly and simply, involves both the exploitation of the economic value of real estate and the treatment of local residents as objects rather than the subjects of upgrading. Even though population movement is a common feature of cities, gentrification is specifically the replacement of a less affluent group by a wealthier social group (...). Whether a result of city council policies or real estate pressures, gentrification stands in contrast to earlier attempts to improve deprived neighbourhoods by addressing the built environment, the

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14 central objective of urban renewal up until the 1970s. More recently, the betterment of deprived neighbourhoods has taken a completely different form as the improvement of living conditions is no longer considered the task of the state (...). Gentrification has become a means of solving social malaise, not by providing solutions to unemployment, poverty or broken homes, but by transferring the problem elsewhere, out of sight and consequently also geographically marginalizing the urban poor and ensuring their economic location and political irrelevance’(p.xv).

Some criticise this explanation of gentrification because of its emphasis on class differences but in comparison to other, more broad or more specific definitions, this definition of the term gentrification leaves room for an analysis with attention to power relations, commodification of spaces and a hierarchical view on various groups in society. Therefore, we shall utilize this definition of gentrification.

Terms such as urban- renewal, revitalization and -redevelopment are often the companion of the term gentrification, thus requiring a brief explanation too, before commencing the analysis of gentrification and its consequences in Old-East. Revitalization refers to the 1960s practice of reviving parts of the city by means of small interventions to old buildings to preserve the existing urban structure (Cowan & Rogers 2005). The term (urban) renewal originates from the 1970s, when urban development highlighted the need for economical improvement, more dwelling and job opportunities in an area. These terms, revitalization and renewal have been used interchangeably, but renewal mostly emphasizes the densification of previously moderate land use and relocation of businesses and people. Redevelopment, a term from the 1980s refers to the process of demolition and recreation in slum areas on a smaller scale than renewal (ibid). As Musterd and Ostendorf (2008) have shown in their research on urban renewal in the Netherlands, the 1980s showed a decrease in the importance of social housing, and the reinforcement of the urban economy and international economic competition were the main focus of urban renewal policies (Musterd & Ostendorf 2008:80). Regeneration (1990s) on the other hand consists of a comprehensive urban intervention for not only physical improvement but social as well (Cowan & Rogers 2005).

Since the ‘90s the Dutch government has increasingly steered towards a form of urban development in collaboration with the liberal free market. This form of gentrification, referred to as third-wave gentrification in the literature, is characterized by intervening policies by the (local) government, supported by the private sector (Lees et al., 2008). This was the response to a call for investments in urban areas, in times when the lack of financial resources limited the possibilities of (local) government to carry out required changes themselves (Uitermark et al., 2005). The aim was to build more new houses as well as transforming the housing stock, decreasing the amount of social housing to accommodate the desired middle class as new residents. The privatization of housing corporations in 1995 and sale of former social housing apartments yielded the needed resources to invest in the neighbourhoods (Berg & Zonneveld 2008). With various instruments and policies, experimentations with changes in the physical and social lay-out of ‘failed’ neighbourhoods were

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15 conducted, such as Old-East. Growing concern with segregation shaped national and municipal policies, euphemized by the use of the term ‘income neighbourhoods’ where a homogeneity in (lower) income is to be found. The fear of ‘income ghettos’ brought about a form of urban renewal centered around demolishing low-cost housing and building expensive housing to attract wealthy residents to be role-models for the poor (Musterd & Ostendorf 2008:81). The urban renewal policies from the years until 2007 can be described as the ‘powerful city’ ambitions. The city should be safe, liveable, neighbourhoods should have a sense of community which encourages participation and excludes no one. This brought about a ‘decentralised’, ‘area-based’ and ‘integrated approach’ in which neighbourhoods on their own were investigated and specific problems tackled (ibid.:83).

2.2 Gentrification in national politics and local policy

State-led gentrification and urban renewal are not naturally occuring phenomena, but are planned and discussed before local policies can be implemented. Therefore, an in-depth analysis of national and local policies is required, as the results have meaningful consequences for residents on the ground. Urban renewal and especially gentrification are terms that have nowadays found their way into the vocabulary of many residents. As omnipresent the term gentrification nowadays is, in academia, politics and in community centers alike, as absent it was around thirty years ago in mainstream society. Scholars and urban planners did not anticipate the process of gentrification (Lees, Slater and Wyly 2010: 81). The shift from times when middle-class households moved away from the cities to the growing popularity of previously named disadvantaged or failed neighbourhoods was one that academics struggled to understand. In Old-East this process was preceded by strong signs of physical deterioration and suburbanization of prosperous residents from 1960s onwards. Protest groups consisting of residents and shopkeepers voiced their concerns of the dilapidation of the neighbourhood, seeking municipal assistance to improve the neighbourhood (Heijdra 2000). But the renovated housing and small improvements to public spaces did not halter the outflow of wealthier residents. Immigrants from Morocco, Surinam and Turkey replaced them during the 70s and 80s, which changed the neighbourhood to a multicultural neighbourhood. But it remained a relatively poor neighbourhood, with several social issues (ibid.).

According to Sakizlioglu and Uitermark (2014), the municipality heavily contributed towards stigmatization in order to follow up with spatial and societal interventions. During the 90s, the large stock of social housing was believed to cause the neighbourhoods decline, and its residents, the low-income and ethnic minorities groups as culprits. The neighbourhood, and especially the Transvaalbuurt, Indische buurt and Dapperbuurt had deteriorated quickly, and social issues rose. Termed as ‘problem accumulation neighbourhoods’ (probleemacumulatie wijken), these neighbourhoods received much attention by the media framing them as no-go areas.The stigma of being (or being near) a Vogelaarwijk and the appurtenant ‘failed neighbourhood’ reputation resulted

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16 in development of several policies. These policies aimed to make neighbourhoods with a high share of low-income and minority groups ‘liveable’ by privatizing the housing stock and renewing dilapidated houses (Sakizlioglu & Uitermark 2014:1379). Sakizlioglu and Uitermark interpret these decisions as a way to push out unwanted, poor resident in the neighbourhood: ‘The government and its partners tainted the neighbourhood with the stigma of a marginalized neighbourhood (an achterstandswijk) that had to be drastically restructured, not only physically but also demographically’ (ibid). Calls for only physical improvement of the social housing by residents were rejected on the basis of a strong belief in social mixing. Improving social housing was considered as no solution to ‘indifference, poverty, unemployment, poor schooling and language problems’ (ibid). Their analysis of the approach by the municipality and housing corporations stresses the banishment of unwanted residents, as the municipality pushed out regular tenants as ‘[o]nly a small percentage of tenants were patient enough to go through the entire process and insist on being allocated a (relatively luxurious) house in the renovated block’ (ibid.:1381). This was by no means an undesired consequence of well-meaning policies, but a calculated and aspired result, as explicitly stated in the policy notes of the House of Representatives:

‘For a healthy future of the city, a differentiated composition of the population and housing stock is necessary. In large parts of cities, the [social] environment was in such a bad shape, that this was not socially acceptable’ (p.12). ‘If the departure of higher income groups in the city continues, the most vulnerable population groups are threatened to remain behind and there are neighbourhoods in which problems dominate (p.20).The existence of a certain degree of concentration of ethnic or social groups is on its own not an issue [but these] people are unemployed, feel unsafe on the street, the street is unclean (...) Restructuring can contribute to neighbourhoods with a high concentration of minorities to accomplish a socially differentiated structure, which will increase the stability of neighbourhoods and can have a positive effect on the image (p.44).12

These notes, from 1996-1997 clearly illuminate the national government's view on neighbourhoods deemed problematic. Instead of addressing the underlying issues, such as unemployment and poverty, the government preferred to decrease the ‘concentration of ethnic or social groups’, to attract higher income groups. These national policies informed municipal policies, which as a consequence of the decentralization became responsible and were financially supported by the government, to fundamentally alter the ‘problematic neighbourhoods’. Research by the municipality showed that Old-East (in particular the Transvaalbuurt and the Dapperbuurt) scored low on the ‘The State of the City of Amsterdam’ index which pertains to a high concentration of unemployment, welfare dependency, high rates of severe (juvenile) delinquency and low political participation (OIS Staat van de Stad 2001:90). This is explicitly framed as such:

12_{Translation by S. Blom. Tweede Kamer, vergaderjaar 1996–1997, 25 427, nr. 2, retrieved from}

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17 In these bordering districts [Transvaalbuurt and Dapperbuurt] of the 19th century houses, the last decade has shown restructuring: many houses have been renovated or rebuilt, but there are still many social houses as well. These areas comprise fairly extensive concentrations of unemployment of both older and young unemployed. In these neighbourhoods there are concentrations of clients of Bureau Jeugdzorg (Youth Services). Both neighbourhoods stand out as problem areas in regards to juvenile delinquency as well: the situation is characterized as (very) grave and (very) extensive. In the Dapperbuurt the juvenile delinquency has been marked as ‘grave’ (ibid.:91).13

The ‘State of the City of Amsterdam’ research from 2005 depicts an even worse picture of these neighbourhoods. In the Transvaalbuurt over 40 percent of the children grown up in a household with an income below the poverty line (OIS Staat van de Stad 2005:82). The Transvaalbuurt and the Dapperbuurt received the highest score on the safety index, which means they were one of the least safe neighbourhoods of the city (ibid.:130). And despite the renewals and restructuring ‘high concentrations of non-participation are still found (ibid.:136).14

State-led gentrification was conceived to decrease homogeneity in neighbourhoods, improve a variety of social issues and especially result in social mixing and an enhanced social cohesion. The room provided for more affluent residents by the departure and banishment of unwanted residents was assumed to lead to several benefits. However, gentrification and its companion social mixing results in the relocation of residents, named diluting effects by Kleinhans (Kleinhans 2004:382). He states that ‘dilution was a common motive for planners in justifying restructuring projects, but that it is hardly ever explicitly stated as such’ (ibid). As most neighbourhoods targeted in state-led gentrification are predominantly ethnically diverse, is necessary to take this (racial or ethnic) banishment into account. These groups, described as ‘not-yet-autonomous’ by Van den Berg, are often targeted in municipal policies and interventions to ‘elevate’ their situations (Van den Berg 2016:464). These policies, aiming to attract wanted middle-class households and banishing the unwanted, might appear to lead to improvements in the neighbourhood, but must be seen as it is; forced relocation or banishment without solving issues of individual households (Kleinhans 2004:382). These middle class native Dutch residents were hoped to invest in their neighbourhood, both financially (through the purchase of houses) as well as socially (to create more social cohesion). Gentrification being the means to a specific end, namely social mixing and social cohesion, leads to the question, ‘what does social cohesion entail?’. And, ‘does social mixing necessarily lead to cohesion?’. The following section will discuss these themes in regards to local policies and research on the consequences in contemporary Dutch society.

13_{Translation by S. Blom. OIS:Staat van de Stad 2001-Bureau voor Onderzoek en Statistiek. Retrieved from :}

https://www.ois.amsterdam.nl/downloads/pdf/2001_de_staat_van_de_stad_amsterdam.pdf on 18/5/2019

14_{Translation by S. Blom. OIS: Staat van de Stad 2005. Retrieved from}

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2.3 Social cohesion theories

In our modern day multicultural Dutch society, the term ‘social cohesion’ can be found in the media, politics and on the streets. Especially the growing concern with polarisation and fear for the erosion of Dutch culture and society by ethnic minorities can be found in mainstream society (Schmeets 2014:791). Historically, the concept of social cohesion dates back to Durkheim, who coined the term as a ‘a characteristic of society that shows the interdependence between individuals of that society’, with two specific traits (1) the absence of conflict on the basis of wealth, ethnicity, race and gender and (2) the existence of tight social ties through civic society, democracy and law enforcement (Durkheim 1897 in: Berkman & Kawachi 2000). Rooted in endless theoretical debates, from Durkheim to Auguste Comte and Tönnies, social cohesion or social solidarité (in the original French terminology), stood at the basis of social thinkers’ theories on society. By trying to understand which social phenomena, forces and institutions were holding society together, they were looking for an answer to the decline of traditional sources of authority, namely God and King (Han et al., 2012:22). Nowadays social cohesion has become viewed as a necessary aspect of a well functioning society, but its definition remains ambiguous. What does social cohesion entail? Is the entire Dutch society supposed to be socially cohesive? Or should we appreciate social cohesion between subgroups in society as well? As Dukes and Musterd explain:

‘Social cohesion can be qualifies as a ‘quasi-concept’, urban researchers define social cohesion in different ways, but they all refer to the coherence of a social or political system-to the ties that people have with this system; to their involvement and solidarity with it and to a society that ‘hangs together’, in which conflict between societal goals and groups and disruptive behaviour are minimal. To strengthen social cohesion, a variety of individuals and groups should be integrated into a wider social order. They are expected to adhere to common norms, values, aims, principles and codes of behaviour (Westin, 2005). A strong attachment to a particular place and the intertwining of people’s identities with specificities of places are presumed to contribute to stronger social cohesion’ (Dukes & Musterd 2012:1984).

Based on research from the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (NWO), Dukes and Musterd state that strengthening social cohesion of the Dutch society and especially the ties of ethnic groups with Dutch society should stress the maintenance of identity and self respect of these groups (ibid.:1985). Fulfilling these pre-conditions for social cohesion however, is complicated enough. They explain that cohesion is fueled by homogeneity and consensus but since individuals no longer participate in merely one social space and can be bound to several places and have multiple non-conflictual identities, this is not as straightforward as might seem (ibid). Likewise, social cohesion is ‘not consensus but negotiated difference’ (ibid). In cities where distinct social groups encounter each other and experience cultural differences, relations and ties between residents ‘are marked by prejudice, tolerance, empathy, hospitality and incivility-and sometimes all of these simultaneously’ (ibid.). The broad scope, critical stance towards a unilateral conceptualization of social cohesion and

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19 especially their focus on place attachment and the intertwining of individual identities with specific places is one that fits the aim of this research excellently.

As many scholars define and redefine the term, linking together different points of view on social cohesion and different research methods, the resulting concept can be described as ambiguous, to say the least. Nowadays social cohesion is frequently merged with topics such as multiculturalism and diversity, to research the latters’ impact on the former. In E Pluribus Unum, Robert Putnam (2007) states that in places where many different ethnic groups reside, residents become estranged which causes them to retreat to their private domain. Neighbourhoods with high diversity would lack social capital, which he operationalized as less trust and willingness to help others (through volunteering etc.). His measurements and analysis were criticized and eventually refuted, but still left its mark, even in the Dutch political discourse. Putnam named diversity as one of the main reasons for a decrease in social cohesion, and this outcome was replicated in the WRR (Scientific Council for Government Policy) rapport (2018) about diversity in Dutch cities.15_{This caused for quite some} critical response from Dutch academics on the basis of a faulty conceptualization of social cohesion, but does resonate with Dutch policy makers and politicians.16

Specific sociological research on social cohesion in the Netherlands has mostly focused on the link between cohesion and multiculturalism or diversity, but most research is endlessly debated on accounts of operationalization, terminology and analysis. For now it suffices to say that some academics maintain there to be evidence that diversity negatively influences social cohesion (e.g. Dekker & Bolt 2005) yet others dispute that (See: van der Meer & Tolsma 2014; Tolsma et al. 2009; Gijsberts et al. 2012). This type of research has mostly evolved around neighbourhoods where ‘others’ (migrants, ethnic minorities and refugees) have moved into the neighbourhood. But what happens when white middle-class ‘Dutch’ residents move into a diverse neighbourhood? Does social mixing improve the neighbourhood and does it improve social cohesion?

2.4 Social cohesion in a multicultural neighbourhood

The municipality of Amsterdam annually researches the level of social cohesion in all its neighbourhoods, through surveys published in a biennial report. Questions about topics such as ‘experienced solidarity’, ‘familiarity with neighbours’, ‘interactions with neighbours’, ‘sense of belonging’ and the ‘composition of the population’ are employed to monitor residents’ experience of social cohesion (OIS Staat van de Stad 2017:141). The results for Old-East (amongst other neighbourhoods) are fairly negative (ibid.:162). The assumption is that a high degree of social cohesion would lead to less social exclusion, nuisance issues and an increase in participation. Refuted by the sociological tradition which has shown that the decline in traditional social contact (such as

15_{Retrieved from: https://www.wrr.nl/publicaties/verkenningen/2018/05/29/de-nieuwe-verscheidenheid on 28/5/2019} 16_{See:https://www.socialevraagstukken.nl/wat-zegt-het-wrr-rapport-nu-echt-over-sociale-cohesie-in-diverse-buurten/}

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20 chatting with neighbours) is wrongfully equated with a decline in social cohesion (Kleinhans 2004). Still, the municipality aims to induce social mixing in neighbourhoods labeled ‘disadvantaged’ and ‘ethnically homogenous’. Literally intended to ‘break up’ demographic homogeneity in neighbourhoods, the demolition of social housing and construction of expensive owner occupied housing occurs to attract middle-class households (Kleinhans 2004:368). Their strong sense of permanency through the long-term financial commitment through the purchase of home would (as assumed) lead to an increase in the maintenance of the neighbourhood as well as an investment in social ties with other residents. Research by Blokland and van Eijk in a mixed neighbourhood in Rotterdam showed that social mixing strategies might improve local economy, but that even ‘diversity-seekers’ do not overcome the borders of segregated social networks (Blokland & van Eijk 2010:329). Earlier research by Blokland had already showed that the proximity of other ethnic groups and social classes does not overcome racial and class segregation in neighbourhoods and social networks (Blokland 2003), but their newer research showed that even those who explicitly state their appreciation of diversity do not contribute to social mixing.

Not only does gentrification and the appurtenant influx of middle-class households not necessarily lead to social mixing, it potentially increases segregation in the neighbourhood level as middle-class residents employ specific strategies (Atkinson 2008 in Pinkster 2014). His analysis of ‘spoiled identity’ points to a selective utilization of public places by middle-class residents who rather frequent places that support their lifestyle and social identity, and avoid those that don’t. As Pinkster eloquently summarizes, ‘Place, in other words, has become part of conspicuous consumption and a tool to distinguish and distance oneself from ‘others’ (Pinkster 2014:810). Her research on how middle-class residents experience issues with spoiled identity and engagement with the neighbourhood, combine notions of effective belonging and disaffiliation. In order to make sense of their own choice to move into or remain in stigmatized neighbourhoods, these middle-class residents employ several alternative discourses, such as (1) a quality-for-money discourse; location may be disreputable yet housing is of higher quality, (2) a ‘conformism of suburbia’ discourse; emphasizing ordinariness of the neighbourhood to disclaim its low social status, or (3) a compensational discourse; acknowledging the neighbourhood stigma yet appreciating social ties (relationships with neighbours or relatives) or employment ties (working at businesses or participating in local activities such as churches etc.) (ibid.:812). Other more segregated types of strategies of engagement in the neighbourhood might be, (1) drawing symbolic boundaries between ‘us’ (middle-class house owners) and ‘them’ (social housing tenants), and (2) full disengagement though avoidance (in consumption or education) (ibid.:813). Opposing these middle-class residents are the so called ‘diversity seekers’, who appreciate ethnic diversity but simultaneously admit to limited interaction between them and the ethnically ‘other’ (ibid.).

As shown, middle-class residents can employ several strategies to enjoy the benefits of a gentrified neighbourhood (value-for-money discourse) whilst avoiding its problematized original

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21 residents. As gentrification has been explicitly employed to generate a social mix in neighbourhoods such as Old-East, it is imperative to research influence of the new middle-class on long-term residents as well as the strategies employed and types of belonging by middle-class residents. The influx of middle-class residents could disrupt original social ties and contributed to (racial) banishment, but was justified under the guise of creating social cohesion and social mix. Therefore, social cohesion and the ties between long-term residents and the new middle-class residents is one of the main themes in this thesis. The normative demands placed on citizens are framed around notions of belonging and cohesion, thus, before continuing with theories on ‘feeling at home’, we must briefly reflect on the contemporary citizenship discourse.

2.5 Citizenship and the demand to ‘feel at home’

The relationship between the State (or municipality) and its citizens is not invariable nor nonconflictual and is therefore an obligatory topic in a thesis about such a politicized subject as ‘feeling at home’ (Isin & Turner 2007; Schinkel & van Houdt 2010). Currently, municipalities and national government increasingly intervene in local social life, stating what residents should do, feel and even aspire to. These interventions are not necessarily new, but have taken a particularly intrusive turn. According to van Gunsteren, after the Second World War, the general conviction was that deeply rooted ideologies and loyalties (especially religion) should remain outside of politics (van Gunsteren 2009:36). This changed throughout the 90s when the realization came that liberal conceptions of citizenship were not sufficient to create social cohesion between citizens. The resulting national policies, laws and legislation and rhetoric in the Netherlands increasingly emphasized the Dutch culture in matters concerning citizenship (ibid.) Simultaneously, from the 90s onwards, a growing trend to alternative explanations of citizenship can be found in the literature of social sciences. Sociologists regarded the globalized world as being constitutive to the need for alternative analyses, such as transnational citizenship (Sassen 2006) and global citizenship (Habermas 1996). But as Sassen’s observation in 2006 shows, the simultaneous de-nationalization of citizenship was at odds with the discernable attempts of re-nationalization in the Dutch context (Sassen 2006;van Gunsteren 2009).

Citizenship in the Dutch context must be viewed with an eye on the situation of the welfare state, for it informs the discourse and demands placed on Dutch citizens. An expansive welfare state was created and social citizenship rights were expanded from 1901 onwards but has been rapidly deteriorating in current times (van Houdt & Schinkel 2009:54). The untenable expenses for social services ultimately heralded its demise, and the current fixation on ‘active’ citizenship and participation displays the government's objective; to decrease the costs of the welfare state and activate citizens whose (care and social) contributions would bridge the gap created by the disappearance of social services (Kampen et al. 2013:12). Notions such as participation and ‘active’

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22 citizenship have worked their way through politics and policies to mainstream society, as the basis of a moral division between ‘good citizens’ and the ‘not-a-real-citizen citizen’(Schinkel 2007:70). But who are these ‘not-a-real-citizen citizens’ and is ‘good citizenship’ even attainable for all?

According to Schinkel (2007), the beginning of the ‘90s showed an increase in the concern with cultural citizenship and anxieties over the decline of Dutch culture by new foreign influences (ibid.:55). Within discussion on integration, culture in the shape of norms and values have gained importance, as explained by Vermeulen (2007):

Previously it was assumed that if the migrant would have equal rights - in the legal sense became a citizen - he would in due time commit to the Dutch society and become a citizen in the moral sense of the word. First there should be legal citizenship and then social integration and political participation would follow naturally. This order is now changing. The dominant opinion has become that the migrant should first evolve to a citizen in the social-psychological sense - should integrate in society - before he can become a legal citizen. He shall have to earn his right to enter, his claim to permanent residency and his new nationality, through Dutch language proficiency and his acceptance of fundamental societal norms of the Dutch society’ (Vermeulen 2007 in van Houdt & Schinkel 2009:55).17

Previously citizenship discourse relied on certain skills (language proficiency, participation in the labour market etc.) that could be acquired through upbringing, education or integration courses. The contemporary discourse on cultural citizenship however, demands entirely different dedication from Dutch citizens (to be). It demands loyalties and the endorsement of certain norms, values and manners. It is supposed to evoke a certain sense of belonging or identity which would induce social cohesion. This however is not only the case for (recent) migrants, but especially for the children of migrants who already hold citizenship rights. Implicitly and explicitly, they and their citizenship are problematized, and in the discourse of integration politics, their loyalty questioned (ibid.:56).

The Dutch context, previously known for its multicultural and progressive stance, is increasingly anchored around topics such as national identity, values and canon. The 2010 coalition agreement fully endorsed this new vision with the section on ‘Making the Netherlands more Dutch’ (Duyvendak 2011:24). And according to the variety of populist political parties running the political field, native Dutch feel less at home because of the presence of increasing numbers of immigrants (ibid.:84). Of immigrants and their children is explicitly asked to prove their loyalty to the Dutch culture, by assimilating or, as prime minister Rutte stated ‘adopt Dutch modern and progressive values, or get out, go back to Turkey’ (Zomergasten 2016). Fierce criticism on his populist parade on national television did not restrain his standpoint, which he emphasized through his letter to the people in which he stated ‘if you fundamentally reject our country, I would rather have you leave’.18 This push towards populist, nationalistic tendencies is not restricted to right wing political parties. Jan

17_{Translation by S. Blom}

18_{Translation by S. Blom. Letter from Prime Minister Rutte to the people:}

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23 Marijnissen (left wing Socialist Party) articulated similar views: ‘If one is not prepared to conform to our values and obey our laws, the pressing advice is: seek a country where you feel at home’ (Marijnissen, 2004). The Dutch Parliament, likewise, stated that ‘To have Dutch nationality is more than having a Dutch passport. It is an expression of feeling at home in Dutch society, in her democratic legal order, her values, norms and mentality. You must in other words, fully focus on Dutch society’ (Duyvendak 2011:94). Apparently, some emotions and behaviours, such as feeling at home and ‘focussing on Dutch society’, exhibit loyalty and certain actions such as dual nationality prove a lack thereof, to the Dutch society and culture (Isin & Turner 2007:11).

This culturalization of citizenship, must be critically assessed and viewed for what it simultaneously is; a politicization of emotions. Questions of belonging and feeling at home with seemingly personal emotional connotations have become debatable in citizenship and integration politics. What does this mean for citizens who do not feel at home? And is this demand, along with the requirement of social cohesion, really constitutive to improving societies, or neighbourhoods, for that matter? To eventually discuss these questions and understand experiences of residents of Old-East, we must lastly delve into the notion of ‘feeling at home’.

2.6 ‘Feeling at home’ in sociological debates

Even though there is a specific place for emotions in sociology, a subdiscipline we call the sociology of emotions, this tends to be research explicitly about emotions, not as they are manifested in other aspects of society. The lack of attention to emotions in sociology in general can be attributed to three main points according to Goldberg and Emirbayer (Emirbayer & Goldberg 2006:470), namely (1) the opposition between reason and emotions; as emotions would lack an intentional structure, they seem irrelevant for sociologists, (2) sociologists deem emotions to be individual phenomena, thus interesting for psychologists and not sociologist (See Turner & Stets 2006 too) (3) the absence of recognition for the explanatory possibilities of emotions. According to Goldberg and Emirbayer emotions enable and impede actions, which is not recognized by sociologists. Their emphasis on emotions as a transpersonal investment instead of individual commodity, unfortunately lacks an explanation of how the personal connects to the societal, but does broaden the scope of emotions to the realm of sociologists (ibid.:501). According to Boersema et al., emotions ‘give out a signal to people that there is something important happening relative to the personal goals of an individual. Emotions narrate, they create a warning signal. Emotions contain information about what is valuable to us, what threatens us or provides hope and moves us into action’ (Boersema et al. 2009: 145). Specifically the ambivalent meaning of objects and persons can be illuminated by emotions, we can love and hate, abhor and embrace simultaneously, and emotions clarify so much about the meaning making process (ibid.:147). Their plea for a emotional turn in sociology is meant to elucidate the neglect of place in the sociology of emotions and the absence of emotions in studies of place

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24 attachment (ibid.:149). Especially considering the prevalence of emotional connotations with themes such as social cohesion and citizenship, as manifested in the political discussions of ‘feeling at home’, this thesis reinforces Goldberg and Emirbayer’s emphasis on the importance of emotions in sociology. Amplifying the importance of emotions in sociological debates will allow for an understanding of not only what happens in contemporary Dutch society, but especially how it happens and how its citizens experience it.

According to Duyvendak ‘feeling at home’ is a layered emotion that is informed by the way individuals feel about the place where they live, which simultaneously steers their behaviour (Duyvendak 2009:258; van der Graaf & Duyvendak 2009:262). This involves several aspects, one of which is feeling familiar, which is a necessary prerequisite but not sufficient to ‘feel at home’. Besides familiarity other emotions and moods which differ per person, time period and circumstances influence this ‘feeling at home’. Duyvendak’s description of feeling at home leans on two concepts, ‘home as a haven’ and ‘home as heaven’ (2009:258). These two different descriptions of feeling at home do not exclude each other, both are possible simultaneously or can both be lacking. Home can be a ‘haven’ when it is experienced as a safe, comfortable and predictable place where people can feel at ease. The state of the physical environment and specific places influence these aspects. Operationalized as ‘rootedness’ in their research, van der Graaf and Duyvendak looked at the extent to which people were rooted in their neighbourhood. By asking residents about their inclination to move away, the amount of years they reside in their neighbourhood and whether they were owners or renters, they researched feeling at home in disadvantaged areas (van der Graaf & Duyvendak 2009: 264). This operationalization of feeling at home has been taken into account whilst conducting this research. The importance of ‘haven’ seeps through current descriptive expressions used to refer to home, such as ‘castle, fortress, shelter, or safe haven-all’ (Duyvendak et al. 2016:94). It depicts home as a domain to be protected from outside forces and relates to how individuals make sense of their feelings about their place in ‘a world of alienation’ (ibid.). This mostly involves marking boundaries and preventing others from interfering.

‘Heaven’ on the other hand is described as a situation in which like minded individuals can be themselves and cultivate and evolve themselves through their favorite activities. This concept of home is not bound to one specific place and could even be described as an imagined community (Duyvendak 2009: 258). Van der Graaf and Duyvendak operationalized this heaven as bonding, by looking at the social interaction between neighbours and the ways individuals felt attached to the neighbourhood (Van der Graaf & Duyvendak 2009: 264). It relates to a more symbolic collective expression, and link to ‘the pursuit to achieve a sense of continuity between past and present and to transitions in personal life histories as well as the forming of social identities’ (Duyvendak et al. 2016:94). Shifting between ‘the cocoon of personal experience to the collective practices through which people shape, reproduce and modify group identities. By incorporating physical spaces and social relations as well as the imaginary realm of stories and memories, the concept of home is

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25 stretched as it where, from the fixed geographical spaces of house and yard to the collective domains of memory and history’ (ibid.). Simultaneously, feeling at home conveys an individual expression of identity, as Van der Graaf quite convincingly explained:

‘Applying this framework to the concept of ‘feeling at home’ defines these feelings as emotions that expresses the identity of individuals: when someone says he or she feels at home or belongs somewhere, they indicate that the place for which they feel this affection has become part of their identity and represents (a part of) their personal identity. In this way, ‘feeling at home’ conceptualises how people get emotionally involved with their environment’ (Van der Graaf 2015:24).

But these homes do not merely exist in our imagination, they are physically located in an environment, which also influence the experience of home. Hidalgo and Hernandez (2001) state that there are two distinctly differing views on ‘place attachment’, on the basis of social and physical attachment. Low and Lawrence-Zuniga (2003) claim that connection to physical places are based on connections to other people. Friends, family and other people influence how individuals experience places, because these places facilitate social interactions with people surrounding us. The opposite view on ‘place attachment’ accentuate the characteristics of physical places. Cuba and Hummon (1993) state that the ways in which a place is used, and the quality of the physical state of these places, evoke feelings of attachment, not merely to the people who utilize these places. Van der Graaf (2015) merges these two perspectives on ‘place attachment’ by stating that people ‘align their identities with others, but also with the outside world’ (Van der Graaf 2015:26). According to him, the quality and usage of spaces evoke feelings of attachment and a sense of home in people (ibid.). This leads to wonder how places instill exactly the opposite, notions of not feeling at home. Often encountered in public discourse on Dutch society is the notion of not feeling at home anymore, a phrase often employed in media and politics. But what informs these notions and how is this employed in local politics?

2.7 When home is lost: the politics and policies of ‘home’.

Even though feeling at home is very difficult to describe, the opposite seems to be easier. People tend to explain homesickness (to another place) and nostalgia (to another time) easily (Duyvendak 2009:258). When people experience a lack in ‘feeling at home’ they come into action to acquire this feeling (ibid: 259). Current debates on the loss of home, be it through changing neighbourhoods or the influx of (often racially defined) ‘others’, are fueled by politicians who claim that native residents don’t feel at home anymore. As sentiments of (not) feeling at home have become a central topic in public and political debates, questions of who is allowed to feel at home where, have risen (Uitermark 2014). Increasing importance is placed on feeling at home in the political context and even demanded

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26 by politicians, earlier describes as the ‘emotionalization of politics’ and the ‘culturalization of citizenship’ (Duyvendak 2009:259).

As the term home is is increasingly used by policy-makers as a metaphor for a public and ideological space, they justify political programs and policies (Duyvendak et al. 2016:87). Claiming to improve social cohesion and livability, policy-makers, urban planners and social workers utilize ‘home’ as a political tool. Social interventions and policies that interfere in the ways in which people live and partake in society is not a new phenomenon in the Dutch context. The notion of social engineering is one that long predates the current politicization of emotions (Duyvendak 2016:90; van den Eerenbeemt 1977). Past decades have seen a manifold of social interventions, from teaching mothers to keep their children inside and husbands out of café’s and away from alcoholism, to relocating them from the Jordaan to the outskirts of the city. Whereas this involved the urban poor and ‘anti-social’ families up until the 1950s, the new target group became the immigrants, mostly guest-workers from Morocco and Turkey and their families. These social interventions show an explicit contradiction as Duyvendak et al., explain:

‘With the domestic home as a base for family life, personal (and disturbing) affairs of the “anti-social” could be kept out of the public realm and social order could be maintained (...) The contradictory notion that hence occurs is one of home as a public site for intervention and the simultaneous imperative to make home a private space. It shows that home is not necessarily or self-evidently public or private, but is rather dependent on the political context and normative conceptions of what home should be’ (Duyvendak et al. 2016: 90).

Currently, municipal policies highlight the need for residents to feel at home in their neighbourhoods. This would increase social cohesion, which would lead to less nuisance issues and an increase in safety as well as less social isolation. This thesis complicates the theoretical themes mentioned above. Instead of merely looking at ‘place attachment’ and how residents experience their neighbourhood, it is informed by the intricate lines between contemporary citizenship demands, the impact of gentrification and experienced social cohesion. To scrutinize such an elusive topic as feeling at home requires the exploration of the structural influences such as citizenship on this phenomenon. The scope of this thesis however does not allow for an in depth exploration of every single one of the themes mentioned above, but have influenced the questions and analysis of the data.