Change Is Clear

"I can't leave my business and go," he says. "I won't go back to the glass. I don't like it. . . . Everybody is not a bad person. And I am not a bad person also."

A black man walks in. He buys red Vitamin water. "Amesegnaleu," he says, which means thank you in Amharic.

Abeje smiles: "Oh, you speak my language."

* * *

Inside the Windows Cafe, a white man in black unplugs his laptop, switches tables and moves to the window seat, where the sun is pouring in. Under a van Gogh print of a Paris cafe, a black woman talks to a white woman about self-fulfilling prophecies.

* * *

Undeniable, change is running by once forbidden places, building over crime scenes, taking neighborhoods and painting them, sweeping them, cleaning them, planting them, scraping them. Making them home.

Change, something the black and white pioneer gentrifiers who moved in dozens of years ago worked for, has emerged, welcoming the new newcomers. Invites them to come sit on the manicured lawns in the hidden gardens, where they can seem oblivious to the history of the place.

Change watches from these windows. Watches the nanny pushing a child down the street with the blank expression saying she would rather be somewhere else. Watches a woman descend those church steps in a dress too short. Takes a peek inside the open house priced at $699,999, where the owner has left but forgot to put away her high heels that lie scattered in the upper chamber. Change watches from the cafe on the corner, watching the way artists do, studying each movement, sketching change, pressing their lips together to see how it is all going to look when it is finished.

* * *

It is early morning when the air is clean, holding possibility for the day. Here comes Joe Levesque, 51, a white man who paid $114,000 to buy the most expensive house in the neighborhood 21 years ago. He is carrying a shopping bag full of color samples and magazine clippings he is using to help a building owner down the street with painting. He wants the neighborhood to look vibrant, beautiful. He has helped homeowners choose their paint colors, suggesting contrast here and there, and helped plant their gardens. Levesque chose the lavender walls in the Windows Cafe. "It had yellow ceilings and cantaloupe-colored floors and the walls were beige. I said, 'This does not look good.' " He talked to Abeje.