The Gentrification of Jordan 1’s

Written by Nia McLean | Designed by Lauren Mann | Photographed by Emily Delcoure

How Minorities are Being Robbed of Their Culture

In 2005, as a teenager, my uncle took his savings and bought the new Jordan Dub Zero’s at the mall. My uncle didn’t have to camp outside Foot Locker, stalk Nike’s website, or buy them for three times the price from a reseller. My uncle simply walked to the sales associate and asked for Jordan Dub Zeros. Jordan’s? Retail Price? Anyone who has bought a pair of sneakers in the last three years knows this would never happen.

Last year, when Nike re-released the UNC Jordan Ones, I skipped school, arrived at Foot Locker two hours before the release, and still left without a pair. The line was long, and the line’s demographic was certainly different from the store’s where my uncle once shopped. His foot locker was full of young black kids who just wanted to “be like Mike.” My line was full of wealthy white girls, Jack Harlow wannabees, and entrepreneurial white boys who want to make a buck as shoe resellers. Because of the rise in popularity between 2005 and 2021, I had to buy my UNC Jordans for nearly $600 from a white boy on eBay.

Anyone taking Econ 101 will tell you it is basic economics; if there is an increasing demand for a good, but a stable supply, there is going to be a shortage of that good, meaning firms can price gouge.

Still, something about a white boy profiting and making over $300 off me for trying to connect with my culture doesn’t feel right. But, unfortunately, he can profit off me because I am trying to compete in a market that has recently become saturated with white people.

The issue of cultural gentrification is not exclusive to Jordan’s or Black Americans; it extends to every minority and nearly every aspect of life.

Take Washington Post Asian American writer Ruth Tam as an example. She recalls an experience in which her high school friend smelled the traditional Cantonese dish haam daan ju yoke beng in Tam’s home. Tam’s friend “declared [her] house smelled of ‘Chinese grossness.’”

Culturally insensitive comments like that of Tam’s friend were rampant and normalized as many children of color grew up in the late 90s and early 2000s. Comments like this create a complicated relationship between a child and their culture. Tam expresses that because of these comments she “minimized Chinese food’s role in [her] life.” Until recently, society conditioned minorities to reject cultural traditions and their identity to better assimilate into white America.

Thus, it is particularly infuriating that the foods that Tam was bullied for eating in her childhood are now trendy, in her adulthood.

There’s a difference between being trendy and being acceptable. You accept something because you believe every human has the inalienable right to embrace their own identity. You succumb to trends because mainstream America says it’s “cool” at a particular moment in history.

Do you see the difference? Something is acceptable because of your individual moral beliefs. Something is trendy because someone else told you it is. Trends are the product of weak people who cannot think for themselves. The same people who ridiculed Tam’s food, drink boba and eat pho today. The same people that made Jordan’s trendy today, might label them “thuggish” tomorrow.

Once again, this issue is bigger than shoes and food. Rappers such as Kendrick Lamar and J Cole sing shout the Black experience to unify the Black community, with lyrics such as “I can’t sleep ‘cause I’m paranoid; Black in a white man territory” and “we hate popo; want to kill us dead in the streets for sure.” Lyrics about police brutality and the pursuit of generational wealth after slavery are lyrics designed for Black people. While earlier generations labeled Hip-Hop as violent vulgar music and used it to profile Black people, many white people today embrace HipHop as “trendy.” They have saturated the market, driven up ticket prices, and driven a wedge between Black people and their culture. Moreover, the adoption of hip-hop as trendy, has created an environment in which Black people must police their music. I recall, being at a white frat party, and hearing the n-word over the speaker. I instantly snap out of my carefree party mentality, sharpen my ears and scan the crowd for any non-black people singing the racial slur. I see several. I get angry. The song, my night, and my respect for some of my classmates are ruined.

Somehow, it’s a situation in which white communities simultaneously love and hate us. They love our culture so much, they steal it from us and weaponize it against us.

Isn’t that what gentrification is?

So, let’s change the terminology to something more accurate. Instead of saying “to make trendy,” let’s say “gentrify” — or as I like to call it, displacing people of color because it’s “cool.” Because honestly, what is the difference between pricing minorities out of Jordan’s, music, and food, and pricing minorities out of iconic neighborhoods such as Englewood or Harlem? After all, both contribute to minorities’ culture and both are becoming increasingly unaffordable because white people have decided they’re “trendy.”