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The image on the left, in shades of yellow, shows a map of Philadelphia in 1980. Areas with higher Black populations are colored in darker shades of yellow and orange. Black dots, most of which are in the darker yellow or orange areas, signify parish closures between 1970 and 1989. The right image, in shades of purple, shows the same locations. Areas with higher white populations are colored in darker purple.

With GIS mapping, intersection between race and Philadelphia parish closures becomes clear

By Madeline Gambino, Fall 2020 Graduate Fellow

Author's note: As a graduate fellow at the Center for Digital Humanities, I worked on GIS mapping to supplement the more familiar archival and ethnographic research methods of my field, religious studies. I presented this research, as part of my dissertation, “Just and Grave Causes: Decline as Religious Change in Catholic Philadelphia,” at the annual American Academy of Religion conference in December. 

For nearly a century, St. Lucy stood as one of five Roman Catholic parishes within just one square mile in Manayunk, north of Center City Philadelphia. This remarkable density reflected an era when the Church invested heavily in its brick-and-mortar institutional presence. As new ethnic communities settled in neighborhoods like Manayunk, they built their own churches, along with schools and rectories, sometimes only blocks from the next. In this way, Manayunk became home to the Italian St. Lucy Church, two blocks north of the German St. Mary of the Assumption Church, and only five blocks from the Polish St. Josaphat Church.  

By the 2010s, however, the Archdiocese of Philadelphia decided that Manayunk no longer needed five parishes. In 2012, the neighborhood’s parishes dropped from five to two.

St. Lucy, St. Mary of the Assumption, and St. Josaphat were among the approximately 130 parishes the Archdiocese of Philadelphia closed between 1950 and 2019. Nearly half took place in the last decade alone. My dissertation considers this history of parish closures and the changing Catholic presence in Philadelphia. As a student of American religious history, I argue that decline, howsoever communities define or contest it, must be understood as a type of complex, nonlinear change resulting in innovative religious practice and discourse.

Maps balance the place-specific histories and narratives of archival and ethnographic research with visualizations of religious change at the institutional level. With this mixed-method approach, I can ask: where do parish closures happen? Why? And to whom?

Philadelphia’s Church began to close parishes in the 1970s. The archdiocese was grappling with shortages of priests and other resources, changing demographics, and aging physical plants. At the same time, local and federal policies invested in Philadelphia’s surrounding suburbs and disinvested in the urban core; the city’s population and industrial base shrank. 

By overlaying a map of these early parish closures (marked as black points) with demographic data from the US census, GIS reveals a striking pattern: disproportionate closures in low-income, Black urban neighborhoods. In other words, parish closures and the disinvestment in the so-called inner city were not separate issues in the late 20th century. They were deeply intertwined.
A map of Philadelphia from 1980 shows areas with lower income in lighter shades of red. Black dots signify locations of parish closures.

A map of Philadelphia from 1980 shows areas with high Black populations in darker shades of yellow and orange. Black dots signify where parishes closed between 1970 and 1989.

Take a look at the image below. On 12th and Lombard streets stands St. Peter Claver, which the archdiocese established in 1887 as its first parish designated for Black Catholics.

Side by side maps show 1980 maps of Philadelphia. The left map indicates income level with darker red shades. The right map signals larger Black populations with darker shades of yellow. A black dot enclosed by a black circle highlights the location of the parish closure (St. Peter Claver) in question.

When the archdiocese closed the parish in 1985, it pointed to demographic change. Until the 1950s, this Center City neighborhood was the heart of Black Philadelphia, made famous by W. E. B. DuBois’s study, The Philadelphia Negro (1899). By the 1980s, however, the neighborhood had gentrified and become increasingly white. As with the closures in predominantly Black neighborhoods of North Philadelphia or Chester, the archdiocese maintained that it was “a fact of life” that parishes closed as neighborhoods changed. In the case of St. Peter Claver, the archdiocese argued there was no longer a need for a Black parish in the neighborhood.

But archival records, interviews with former parishioners, and Catholic practice itself complicate this narrative. St. Peter Claver parish was not in financial debt. If there had been a decrease in events and attendance, parishioners argued this was only a recent development, due to a series of disengaged replacements after a beloved priest’s death. Moreover, the archdiocese’s own study of the parish in 1984 strongly recommended that it remain open because of its historic significance. The report stated that St. Peter Claver’s closure would look like targeting Black Catholics.

The archdiocese closed it anyway.

In response, parishioners, clergy, and sisters (nuns) protested the archdiocese’s insistence that St. Peter Claver’s closure, like others in the late twentieth century, had nothing to do with race. By mapping these trends, we can perhaps begin to understand why the archdiocese estimates that it serves fewer Black Catholics today than fifty years ago.

If GIS mapping can reveal trends in religious change and decline, questions of causality remain live. We see where parish closure happens, and perhaps to whom it happens, but answering why involves the careful parsing of these historical and contemporary narratives, texts, and fragments. 

In other words, closures are not “facts of life,” but institutional choices that allocate coveted resources, and in so doing preserve some communities and not others. These maps, together with historical and ethnographic sources, illuminate the spatial and racial connotations of institutional choices shaping Church presence, absence, and preservation: where decline happens, why it happens, and to whom it happens.

Above: Maps show that many Philadelphia parish closures from 1970 to 1989 occurred in areas with large Black communities.

Opportunities


Nominations are open for the 2020 Digital Humanities Awards! Nominate your favorite DH work from 2020 (including your own!) by January 31. Read more about the categories and submit your nominations.

Are you reading this newsletter? Great! Would you like to edit it? Even better! The CDH is seeking a graduate student to be our Public Writing and Communications Fellow for spring semester 2021. Application deadline is February 5. Head to our website for the details.

The CDH is accepting applications for our Humanities Data Teaching Fellowship. Fellows will develop humanistic course modules for the undergraduate course, “Introduction to Data Sciences.” Applications are due February 12. Check out the program description for more info.

Upcoming Events


January 28, 1:05 to 1:50 p.m.: Exploring Privacy Apps (InfoSec 101). Our Privacy Initiative is launching today, International Data Privacy Day, with a collaboration with the Princeton Information Security Office. At the event, the Information Security Office will discuss several software applications developed with privacy in mind. Join us to learn about both the advantages and disadvantages of these services. Learn more and register.

February 8 to 12 is NYCDH Week! The week features an exciting lineup of virtual workshops, demonstrations, and more. CDH Slack was particularly excited by "QuicheGIS: A cooking show style introduction to thinking about geospatial projects and transforming texts to maps," but there are many great events to choose from. See all the sessions.

February 9, 4:30 to 5:30 p.m.: For the second event in our Privacy Initiative series, Princeton alumna Sarah Brayne (UT-Austin) will speak about her recent book, Protect and Surveil: Data, Discretion, and the Future of Policing. Sign up for the talk.

Links We're Digging Lately


CDH Faculty Director Meredith Martin passed along a list of favorite 2020 visual projects and articles compiled by CUNY professor Lev Manovich.

Those of us working on Shakespeare and Company Project data exports (coming very soon!) were delighted to find this Lost Generation-themed Bernie meme on Twitter (credit to @JoyceSocietyNY). In 2018, Bernie declared his favorite book to be Where We Go from Here (by Bernie Sanders). Alas, the title did not circulate at Shakespeare and Company.

CDH Slack witnessed a lively discussion about the note-taking app Obsidian, which purports to be "a second brain, for you, forever." Digital Humanities Strategist Grant Wythoff described Obsidian as "the coolest," with UX Designer Gissoo Doroudian signaling her enthusiasm via a characteristically Gissoo brain emoji (🧠).

Also recommended by Grant: A history of the dashboard, by Dartmouth professor Jacqueline Wernimont. Wernimont explains that COVID-19 dashboards, unlike many historical dashboards, do not "share information . . . in a way that allows ordinary people to take action."
The CDH Newsletter is edited by Camey VanSant, postdoctoral fellow and communications lead at the CDH. Email her with newsletter suggestions or feedback.
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