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Same Town, Different Communities
A photo from the late 1930s of neighbors William H. Thomas, left, and Mack Brown. "Change comes," said Eleanor Traynham, 71, Thomas's granddaughter.
(Courtesy Of Eleanor Traynham)
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His Latino neighbors seem all right and don't bother his family, he said. Still, he said that a spike in the price of homes, which now sell from $200,000 to $400,000, is putting Brentwood out of reach for many working-class blacks. Crank attributes the price spike to the Latino influx, even though property values across the county have risen sharply in the past five years.
He pointed out single-family homes he said housed multiple Latino families. Recent data for the number of residents per household were not available for North Brentwood. Nationally in 2005, Hispanics composed about 11 percent of U.S. households but made up more than 50 percent of households deemed crowded (more than one person per room), according to the Census Bureau's American Housing Survey.
Nearby, Crank's buddy Charles Cuffie, 62, a retired bus driver, voiced a commonly held suspicion among black residents that Latinos sometimes pretend not to speak English to avoid conversation.
"Things change," said Crank's daughter, Tammi Crank, 20, a security officer with the federal Department of Homeland Security. "I just never thought it would happen in my neighborhood."
The influx is driven by housing prices that are cheaper than in Fairfax and Montgomery counties and real estate agents who steer Latinos into certain neighborhoods, said Audrey Singer, an immigration fellow at the Brookings Institution.
Decades ago, the county was roiled as it shifted from majority-white to majority-black. Peter Shapiro, a former Town Council member and County Council chairman, who is white, has seen friction between blacks and Latinos in other Prince George's neighborhoods. Perhaps because of its strong sense of identity, Shapiro said, North Brentwood seems determined not to repeat those mistakes.
Lillian K. Beverly, 77, who has lived in North Brentwood most of her life and been mayor since 1995, said she had fielded complaints about Latino residents parking on lawns or growing corn in their front yards -- relatively small problems that have been fixed. She knows that some residents feel wistful for bygone days but asked, "How can we as black folks always complain about being discriminated against if we're going to do the same?" She said the North Brentwood Memorial Garden and the planned Prince George's African American Museum and Cultural Center in North Brentwood will ensure that their legacy survives, even if their numbers continue to dwindle.
William A. Campos (D-Hyattsville), 32, who moved with his family from El Salvador to Hyattsville when he was 9 and represents North Brentwood on the County Council, said: "We're still learning one another in this area. It will take some time."
Campos said Latino residents don't always recognize that parking on the grass doesn't play well with neighbors. "The norm in a residential area here is not the norm for what we were doing back home," he said.
He said the notion of Latinos feigning ignorance of English was often a misunderstanding. Newcomers often pick up only a few words at a time, Campos said. "Why would you purposely not speak or want to understand the world that you live in? Sometimes you don't have that ability," he said.
Campos agreed that Latinos often pool resources. "It becomes very natural to help each other sustain the house and at the same time be with the family," he said. It's an arrangement that he said some African Americans have told him they recognize from their own family histories.
Traynham, the North Brentwood resident, who is black, concurred. "Basically they are only doing the same thing African Americans did years ago. When African Americans migrated from the South, they always had a place where family members could come and stay," she said.
Valentín Peña, originally from El Salvador, said, speaking in Spanish, that blacks often wave, but neither group ever starts a conversation.
Peña said he understood that black residents might feel threatened, but his nephew, who wouldn't give his name, disagreed, in English. "I listen to Martin [Luther King]; he had a dream."
When Ever Diaz opened his auto repair shop in 1990, he spoke English, introduced himself to residents and attended community functions. It's a model for other newcomers, he said. "I didn't quit, and I didn't get angry," he said.
On a cold afternoon, Diaz introduced himself to Ramondo Lara, 38, a maintenance engineer who is married with two young sons and moved to North Brentwood three years ago. "Everybody says, 'Hi. How are you? I am fine,' " Lara said in halting English. Lara and Diaz joked that they should open a Salvadoran embassy. People have to get used to Latinos being here, Diaz said.
"Like everyone else, they are just looking to move up," he said.
Staff researchers Magda Jean-Louis and Meg Smith and El Tiempo Latino reporter Luz Lazo contributed to this report.







