Cities: York's Charrette

THIS is the first time that black and white have done anything like this together," said an elderly black woman. One young white housewife in the midst of a group of black students wearing POWER TO THE PEOPLE buttons marveled: "There we were, and we were all worrying about the same problems."

Getting together to talk about common concerns may seem an unexceptional event. Granted, the eight days of discussions that ended last week in York, Pa., produced no miraculous cures for the aching city of 50,000. Yet the women's pride was justified. York, Governor Raymond Shafer said recently, is "one of the most tense communities in Pennsylvania as far as race relations go." Facing the usual array of urban inadequacies and the possibility of a third consecutive summer of violence, blacks and whites have been trying not only to limit confrontation to talking rather than fighting, but also to take an active part in planning cures for the community's ills.

Pour and Search. They chose a novel format called the charrette, a kind of civic group therapy in which all parts of the community, assisted by outside experts, are encouraged to pour out their complaints and to work together in search of specific reforms. Developed two years ago for an urban education project at Ohio State University's School of Architecture, the charrette* depends on the constant interplay of ideas. Its most important aspect is the participation of people normally outside the decision-making process. When the concept was imported to York by the city's Community Progress Council, a federally financed antipoverty agency, it was broadened to encompass all areas of community concern.

The need for it was obvious. A deceptively picturesque city in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania Dutch country, York harbors all the problems besetting larger urban centers across the land. The community's 6,000 blacks live in constant fear of the police, particularly a well-trained canine corps. York ranks below the state average in virtually every health index. There is a shortage of low-income housing and public transportation. Whites, fearing unrest in the central city, have been moving to the suburbs. Population and the tax base are going down. In 1968 and 1969 racial clashes occurred in the city. Last summer, after a black woman and a white policeman were shot to death, the National Guard was summoned.

Dogs and Communication. After a volunteer steering committee raised $25,000 ($10,000 from the Community Progress Council, $5,000 from the federal Office of Education and $10,000 in local donations), the charrette got under way in a downtown warehouse and office building. Bill Riddick, director of development at North Carolina's Shaw University and a veteran of charrettes in Raleigh and Indianapolis, was hired to help manage and guide the early discussions. People from every ethnic and economic stratum participated. They divided into loosely structured committees such as health, police-youth relations and education. At night they regrouped to discuss their progress in an "arena" session.

From the start, hostility was evident. Blacks clashed bitterly and repeatedly with police over alleged discriminatory practices and the use of dogs against people. "If Whitey wants the dogs, let him vote for their use in his community!" one man shouted. "They're not wanted in the black areas." "If we had good policemen, there'd be no need for dogs," said another. For their part, the two attending policemen took the lambasting fairly calmly, admitting that there was a "100 percent breakdown in communications between police and segments of the community"--meaning the blacks. Discrimination was charged in virtually every sector of civic life.

When not engaged in verbal crossfire, the committees settled down to outlining York's problems and devising remedies. At each session, some of the three dozen experts brought in from the outside were available for counsel. The city administration was never represented in any strength, but District Attorney Harold Fitzkee Jr. participated regularly. Mayor Eli Eichelberger apprehensively attended only after he had been assured that he would not be heckled from the floor, and Councilmen David Milne Jr. and Albert L. Hydeman Jr. were present on occasion.

Sensitivity and Jobs. The committees presented their final reports to a group that had grown from 150 to 650 people. The proposals were as wide-ranging as the city's problems: among them a citizens' housing council to bring existing housing groups under one umbrella, a city community health center and mobile clinic for the county, more Neighborhood Youth Corps jobs, the county vocational school to remain open through the summer, and sensitivity training courses for white teachers and students. One of the committees also urged that police dogs not be used against people.

When the charrette ended, there was no way of telling immediately just how much had been accomplished. Indeed, Mayor Eichelberger, though pledging to work with charrette proposals, said that he had no intention of forcing the police to disband the canine corps. In case the point was lost, he said that he would maintain law and order at all costs. But there were slight signs of progress. Within 24 hours, Superintendent of Schools Dr. Charles H. Walters announced the institution of a sensitivity training course in one of York's elementary schools. In response to a complaint from Spanish-speaking citizens, D.A. Fitzkee promised to have the cards advising arrested persons of their constitutional rights printed in Spanish as well as English. Finally, the charrette committees agreed to remain intact. If the new group succeeds, the city will at least be taking a crucial first step toward healing itself; York's citizens will continue to talk and plan together.

The term derives from the days when French architecture students at L'Ecole des Beaux-Arts used a two-wheeled cart, or charrette, to pick up their design drawings. Sometimes, guided by some final inspiration, they worked hastily en charrette during the trip to the school.

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