I can't claim to be an expert, but my guess is that when a place sees its population decrease, local economics tend to be behind it. In Maine, where there were no wars or famines or widespread catastrophic disasters between 2000 and 2010, I'm willing to bet that economics is the reason two counties and more than 100 towns and townships saw their citizenry shrink over the past decade.
In looking at the list of towns, cities, plantations and unorganized territories in Maine that lost population, the closure or layoffs at pulp or paper mills or military bases are two of the obvious culprits.
Old Town's population shrunk by 290 people in the same decade Georgia-Pacific shut down its mills there, while Winter Harbor lost 472 residents, or 48 percent of its population - nearly half! - after the Navy closed its base at nearby Schoodic Point in 2002. Madawaska, Rumford, Mexico, Millinocket, East Millinocket - all mill towns - have lost both population and mill jobs since 2000. Brunswick, Bath, Harpswell and Topsham all saw their populations decrease, which isn't surprising considering the gradual closure toward the end of the decade of the nearby Brunswick Naval Air Station.
By my count, 163 municipalities or townships lost population between 2000 and 2010, but not all those towns can easily attribute their population decrease to a nearby mill or military base shutting down. Some decreases occurred in places where you think they wouldn't, such as in relatively affluent coastal towns that generally are considered people magnets. It's not surprising that several coastal towns in chronically economically depressed Washington County lost population, as that county did as a whole; it is surprising that several coastal towns in Hancock, Knox and York counties (each of which gained population overall) saw their numbers decline. Among them: Mount Desert, Southwest Harbor, Stonington, Camden, Rockland, Ogunquit and Kennebunkport.
The likely culprit in these towns (or the major one, anyway) is rising property valuations and taxes. All of these towns have classic coastal Maine waterfront properties that are highly desirable but not so affordable to people of modest means, as most Mainers are. Comparatively wealthy people from away often can afford to buy these properties, and they seem to be, according to a planner quoted in this Bangor Daily News story. Locals short on cash who can't afford the high property taxes look to sell out, and people who have managed to stay wealthy despite the global economic malaise get a chance to buy in - but they don't necessarily change their residency and then get counted as local residents by the Census Bureau. This demographic shift is why some of these scenic coastal towns have declining populations.
But the biggest numeric drop in terms of most residents lost seems to have nothing to do with property taxes, the closure of a military base or layoffs at a local pulp or paper mill.
Thomaston in Knox County lost 967 residents, or more than 25 percent of its population, between 2000 and 2010. The nearby town of Warren gained approximately the same number Thomaston lost, and saw its population increase by more than 25 percent. The reason? Maine State Prison, and its inmate population, was moved from Thomaston to Warren in 2002.
For a complete list of the towns in Maine that lost population since 2000, check out Sheet 3 of this spreadsheet.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Census 2010: ethnicity in eastern Maine
There is more ethnic diversity in eastern Maine than there was 10 years ago, but that's not saying much. "White" people (presumably of European descent) still make up more than 90 percent its residents, as they do throughout Maine.
But still there are some interesting changes to note. Hispanics or Latinos (whom the U.S.Census Bureau do not categorize as a "race," for obvious reasons) have seen their numbers increase statewide by 80 percent, though their total is still less than 2 percent of Maine's total. Oddly enough, however, their numbers apparently have not changed at all in Milbridge over the past 10 years, despite Milbridge's reputation as a place where their numbers are rising. According to census figures, 84 Latinos lived in Milbridge in 2000 and 84 live there now. Otherwise, the town's overall population moderately increased from 1,279 residents in 2000 to 1,353 in 2010. Other Washington County towns have seen their Latino populations increase by a dozen or more (Calais, Harrington, Jonesport, Machias and Steuben), which is why the county's overall Latino population increased by 65 percent, from 274 to 452.
Also in Washington County, its African-American population increased nearly 60 percent, from 88 to 140, and its Asian population increased 48 percent, from 101 to 149. Most of the Asian population change was in East Machias (from one in 2000 to 23 in 2010), while the number of Asians in Machais and Calais, the county's two most populous municipalities, each have decreased since 2000.
Washington County's relatively large Native American population increased, too, but only by 6.5% The vast majority of the 1,586 Native Americans in Washington County live on Passamaquoddy tribal lands at Indian Township and Pleasant Point.
In Hancock County, the largest rate of ethnic growth was among the Asian population, which more than doubled, from 196 residents to 446. Of those 250 new Asian residents, 106 of them moved to Bar Harbor. Why, I'm not sure, but my guess is that it has something (but not everything) to do with Jackson Lab, which has had an effect on the county's overall Ellsworth-area population as it has grown. The numbers of Latinos and African-Americans in Hancock County each increased between 70 and 80 percent. Nearly 600 Latinos now call Hancock County home, while 221 African-Americans do. Native Americans, now with 216 residents, saw their population grow 13.7 percent in Hancock County since 2000.
The highest numbers of Asians, African-Americans and Latinos in eastern Maine are, not surprisingly, in the Bangor area. The five largest municipalities in Penobscot County ( Bangor, Orono, Brewer, Old Town and Hampden, in that order) saw their overall African-American population grow by 54 percent; their overall Latino population grow by 66 percent; and their overall Asian population grow by 27 percent. All told, these three ethnic groups make up 3 percent (2,843 residents) of the total population of those five municipalities, which is just shy of 68,000 people. The Native American population in these five municipalities - which grew from 595 in 2000 to 752 in 2010 - does not include 475 Penobscot Indians the U.S. Census Bureau counted at the Indian Island reservation next to Old Town.
Also not surprisingly, outside of the indigenous Native American populations, a casual glance at the census figures indicates there is more ethnic diversity in southern Maine, especially its larger municipalities, than there is in eastern Maine. Lewiston alone, for example, has more residents of African descent than the total number of Asians, Latinos, and African-Americans that live in Penobscot County's five largest municipalities put together - even though Penobscot County has roughly 50 percent more people than Androscoggin County (where Lewiston is located).
Incidentally, the state's population of people of African descent had the largest rate of growth in the past decade: 132 percent. Lewiston is the best example of that growth. The 2000 census counted 383 people of African descent in Maine's second-largest city. In 2010, that population had grown more than 700 percent, to 3,174. Most of them are believed to be people that emigrated to America from Somalia to escape violence in their home country.
To see some of the individual numbers from Hancock, Penobscot and Washington counties, check out this spreadsheet.
To a large degree, I think the definition of "race" is a little antiquated, and so am not sure there is any real relevance to defining one's geographic ancestry. But to the extent that "race" also represents cultural diversity, I think it is interesting to chart the changes taking place. I tend to think a mixture of traditions and philosophies is a good thing, as long as the traditions and philosophies can tolerate each other's presence and don't result in hostilities between neighbors.
I once started talking to a man (a tourist from Philadelphia) on the mail boat to Islesford and happened to mention that Maine was one of the whitest in the country - at which point his face lit up and he made a comment to his wife that indicated he thought that was good news. He then made a comment about African-Americans that made me realize he was racist. His perspective, in my opinion, is a tradition that everyone can do without.
But still there are some interesting changes to note. Hispanics or Latinos (whom the U.S.Census Bureau do not categorize as a "race," for obvious reasons) have seen their numbers increase statewide by 80 percent, though their total is still less than 2 percent of Maine's total. Oddly enough, however, their numbers apparently have not changed at all in Milbridge over the past 10 years, despite Milbridge's reputation as a place where their numbers are rising. According to census figures, 84 Latinos lived in Milbridge in 2000 and 84 live there now. Otherwise, the town's overall population moderately increased from 1,279 residents in 2000 to 1,353 in 2010. Other Washington County towns have seen their Latino populations increase by a dozen or more (Calais, Harrington, Jonesport, Machias and Steuben), which is why the county's overall Latino population increased by 65 percent, from 274 to 452.
Also in Washington County, its African-American population increased nearly 60 percent, from 88 to 140, and its Asian population increased 48 percent, from 101 to 149. Most of the Asian population change was in East Machias (from one in 2000 to 23 in 2010), while the number of Asians in Machais and Calais, the county's two most populous municipalities, each have decreased since 2000.
Washington County's relatively large Native American population increased, too, but only by 6.5% The vast majority of the 1,586 Native Americans in Washington County live on Passamaquoddy tribal lands at Indian Township and Pleasant Point.
In Hancock County, the largest rate of ethnic growth was among the Asian population, which more than doubled, from 196 residents to 446. Of those 250 new Asian residents, 106 of them moved to Bar Harbor. Why, I'm not sure, but my guess is that it has something (but not everything) to do with Jackson Lab, which has had an effect on the county's overall Ellsworth-area population as it has grown. The numbers of Latinos and African-Americans in Hancock County each increased between 70 and 80 percent. Nearly 600 Latinos now call Hancock County home, while 221 African-Americans do. Native Americans, now with 216 residents, saw their population grow 13.7 percent in Hancock County since 2000.
The highest numbers of Asians, African-Americans and Latinos in eastern Maine are, not surprisingly, in the Bangor area. The five largest municipalities in Penobscot County ( Bangor, Orono, Brewer, Old Town and Hampden, in that order) saw their overall African-American population grow by 54 percent; their overall Latino population grow by 66 percent; and their overall Asian population grow by 27 percent. All told, these three ethnic groups make up 3 percent (2,843 residents) of the total population of those five municipalities, which is just shy of 68,000 people. The Native American population in these five municipalities - which grew from 595 in 2000 to 752 in 2010 - does not include 475 Penobscot Indians the U.S. Census Bureau counted at the Indian Island reservation next to Old Town.
Also not surprisingly, outside of the indigenous Native American populations, a casual glance at the census figures indicates there is more ethnic diversity in southern Maine, especially its larger municipalities, than there is in eastern Maine. Lewiston alone, for example, has more residents of African descent than the total number of Asians, Latinos, and African-Americans that live in Penobscot County's five largest municipalities put together - even though Penobscot County has roughly 50 percent more people than Androscoggin County (where Lewiston is located).
Incidentally, the state's population of people of African descent had the largest rate of growth in the past decade: 132 percent. Lewiston is the best example of that growth. The 2000 census counted 383 people of African descent in Maine's second-largest city. In 2010, that population had grown more than 700 percent, to 3,174. Most of them are believed to be people that emigrated to America from Somalia to escape violence in their home country.
To see some of the individual numbers from Hancock, Penobscot and Washington counties, check out this spreadsheet.
To a large degree, I think the definition of "race" is a little antiquated, and so am not sure there is any real relevance to defining one's geographic ancestry. But to the extent that "race" also represents cultural diversity, I think it is interesting to chart the changes taking place. I tend to think a mixture of traditions and philosophies is a good thing, as long as the traditions and philosophies can tolerate each other's presence and don't result in hostilities between neighbors.
I once started talking to a man (a tourist from Philadelphia) on the mail boat to Islesford and happened to mention that Maine was one of the whitest in the country - at which point his face lit up and he made a comment to his wife that indicated he thought that was good news. He then made a comment about African-Americans that made me realize he was racist. His perspective, in my opinion, is a tradition that everyone can do without.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Burning Questions
[ALERT: This blog post has absolutely nothing to do with the state of Maine.]
I'm not sure what to make of the fact that this NYT article was published this morning, on the 150th anniversary of the beginning of the Civil War in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina.
I grew up in Atlanta (please note the emphasis on "in"), which would explain why I know a little bit more about Margaret Mitchell's legacy in the city than the article reveals. I guess I can't really fault the NYT for the tone of the story. A relatively brief article about "Gone With The Wind" enthusiasts celebrating the 75th anniversary of Mitchell's book is not the best forum for exploring the complex web of history, money and race that still exists in Atlanta.
But there's a lot of subtext and missing context in the article. GWTW is not as loved in the city of Atlanta, a majority African-American city, as a casual observer might guess.
The article points out that the GWTW museum is in Marietta, where Newt Gingrich lived while he served in Congress and which has resisted efforts to be connected to Atlanta via the city's transit authority (MARTA). I'm not sure why the museum is in Marietta, but I'm guessing that it might somehow be related to the fact that arsonists have twice set fire to the house in midtown Atlanta (pictured above), at the corner of Peachtree and 10th streets, where Mitchell wrote the book. No one seems to think the arsonists were ignorant of the building's legacy when they lit it on fire. As the article points out, GWTW "means a lot in Atlanta" - but what it means is debatable.
The "windies" in the NYT article (whom, it points out, are "usually white") no doubt have opinions about those attempts in the mid-1990s to burn the Mitchell House down. [To read about the house's complicated history, check out this Creative Loafing article] Should they have been asked? Should the article's focus have been shifted away from literature fans celebrating their favorite work? I don't know.
But a GWTW anniversary celebration is not like a Star Trek convention, which celebrates an entirely made-up universe. The Civil War was real, and 150 years later it remains the most divisive episode in the country's history. How it is remembered naturally will be a divisive issue. Some say the war was about state's rights, but if there were other "rights" at stake beyond whether white people should be allowed to own black people, they escape me at the moment.
Were the fires set by people who see the house as an antiquated relic of a racist past? Maybe. I know many Atlantans believe the house (such as the even more polarizing symbol of the huge stone carving of Confederate generals on the side of Stone Mountain) overly emphasizes Atlanta's racist past and skews the way the modern city is and should be viewed by the outside world.
The novel does have a strong lead female Caucasian character in Scarlett O'Hara, but many have criticized its depiction of black people and slavery as flat, incurious and vapid, if not outright racist. Given the fact that Mitchell was a white woman, the development and focus on her white, female lead character is not all that surprising.
The NYT article suggests that GWTW does appeal to some demographics more than others. It quotes one enthusiast (Mrs. Sorrow - what a name!) as saying that the Civil War-era depicted in the book "would have been a precious time to enjoy being a lady." Really? How might a modern-day African-American lady feel about that idea?
And, regardless of the race issue, how might Mrs. Sorrow's comment reflect her understanding of the true horrors of the Civil War? More than half a million soldiers died on both sides, not to mention civilians. You can see why some people allege that the book, and its fans, romanticize and give a false depiction of the ugly realities of life in the Confederate South.
The irony of the effort to preserve the Mitchell House is that Atlanta does not have a history of preserving its history. Many people assume that the relative lack of historical buildings in Atlanta is a result of General Sherman setting the city on fire during the Civil War - a significant symbolic and practical blow to the Confederacy. If that were the case, Atlanta would have buildings that date from the late 1800s, after the war ended, one would think.
But it doesn't. In fact, it has few buildings that pre-date World War II. Why? Because after World War II, and even throughout the civil rights era, the city's leaders set an agenda of aggressive economic growth, which led to old buildings being torn down and increasingly taller and shinier new ones going up in their places. That growth economically benefited both Atlanta's black and white communities, which some say is the reason why Atlanta had no truly violent episodes during the Civil Rights era. Anyone who has visited Atlanta recently can see that its infatuation with real estate and development is as strong as ever.
According to the Creative Loafing article, defenders of the Mitchell House believe the efforts to burn it down were a result of this redevelopment zeal, not of cultural criticism. Someone wanted the house out of the way so the lot could be developed into a lucrative commercial property. This certainly is a plausible theory. Based on the surrounding buildings, it seems certain that if it were not for the presence of the Mitchell House, a tall skyscraper now would stand on that urban corner.
What kind of history Atlanta has, and what kind of legacy it wants, really are the questions that arise from the Mitchell House situation. You would think a metropolitan area of several million people would be big enough to accommodate the inevitable multiple answers to those questions without arsonists getting involved.
But, then again, it is The South. It has a history of symbols being set on fire.
I'm not sure what to make of the fact that this NYT article was published this morning, on the 150th anniversary of the beginning of the Civil War in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina.
I grew up in Atlanta (please note the emphasis on "in"), which would explain why I know a little bit more about Margaret Mitchell's legacy in the city than the article reveals. I guess I can't really fault the NYT for the tone of the story. A relatively brief article about "Gone With The Wind" enthusiasts celebrating the 75th anniversary of Mitchell's book is not the best forum for exploring the complex web of history, money and race that still exists in Atlanta.
But there's a lot of subtext and missing context in the article. GWTW is not as loved in the city of Atlanta, a majority African-American city, as a casual observer might guess.
The article points out that the GWTW museum is in Marietta, where Newt Gingrich lived while he served in Congress and which has resisted efforts to be connected to Atlanta via the city's transit authority (MARTA). I'm not sure why the museum is in Marietta, but I'm guessing that it might somehow be related to the fact that arsonists have twice set fire to the house in midtown Atlanta (pictured above), at the corner of Peachtree and 10th streets, where Mitchell wrote the book. No one seems to think the arsonists were ignorant of the building's legacy when they lit it on fire. As the article points out, GWTW "means a lot in Atlanta" - but what it means is debatable.
The "windies" in the NYT article (whom, it points out, are "usually white") no doubt have opinions about those attempts in the mid-1990s to burn the Mitchell House down. [To read about the house's complicated history, check out this Creative Loafing article] Should they have been asked? Should the article's focus have been shifted away from literature fans celebrating their favorite work? I don't know.
But a GWTW anniversary celebration is not like a Star Trek convention, which celebrates an entirely made-up universe. The Civil War was real, and 150 years later it remains the most divisive episode in the country's history. How it is remembered naturally will be a divisive issue. Some say the war was about state's rights, but if there were other "rights" at stake beyond whether white people should be allowed to own black people, they escape me at the moment.
Were the fires set by people who see the house as an antiquated relic of a racist past? Maybe. I know many Atlantans believe the house (such as the even more polarizing symbol of the huge stone carving of Confederate generals on the side of Stone Mountain) overly emphasizes Atlanta's racist past and skews the way the modern city is and should be viewed by the outside world.
The novel does have a strong lead female Caucasian character in Scarlett O'Hara, but many have criticized its depiction of black people and slavery as flat, incurious and vapid, if not outright racist. Given the fact that Mitchell was a white woman, the development and focus on her white, female lead character is not all that surprising.
The NYT article suggests that GWTW does appeal to some demographics more than others. It quotes one enthusiast (Mrs. Sorrow - what a name!) as saying that the Civil War-era depicted in the book "would have been a precious time to enjoy being a lady." Really? How might a modern-day African-American lady feel about that idea?
And, regardless of the race issue, how might Mrs. Sorrow's comment reflect her understanding of the true horrors of the Civil War? More than half a million soldiers died on both sides, not to mention civilians. You can see why some people allege that the book, and its fans, romanticize and give a false depiction of the ugly realities of life in the Confederate South.
The irony of the effort to preserve the Mitchell House is that Atlanta does not have a history of preserving its history. Many people assume that the relative lack of historical buildings in Atlanta is a result of General Sherman setting the city on fire during the Civil War - a significant symbolic and practical blow to the Confederacy. If that were the case, Atlanta would have buildings that date from the late 1800s, after the war ended, one would think.
But it doesn't. In fact, it has few buildings that pre-date World War II. Why? Because after World War II, and even throughout the civil rights era, the city's leaders set an agenda of aggressive economic growth, which led to old buildings being torn down and increasingly taller and shinier new ones going up in their places. That growth economically benefited both Atlanta's black and white communities, which some say is the reason why Atlanta had no truly violent episodes during the Civil Rights era. Anyone who has visited Atlanta recently can see that its infatuation with real estate and development is as strong as ever.
According to the Creative Loafing article, defenders of the Mitchell House believe the efforts to burn it down were a result of this redevelopment zeal, not of cultural criticism. Someone wanted the house out of the way so the lot could be developed into a lucrative commercial property. This certainly is a plausible theory. Based on the surrounding buildings, it seems certain that if it were not for the presence of the Mitchell House, a tall skyscraper now would stand on that urban corner.
What kind of history Atlanta has, and what kind of legacy it wants, really are the questions that arise from the Mitchell House situation. You would think a metropolitan area of several million people would be big enough to accommodate the inevitable multiple answers to those questions without arsonists getting involved.
But, then again, it is The South. It has a history of symbols being set on fire.
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