Save Floridita from Columbia’s greed

Today we accuse the University of being petty and mean.

These are the only words that come to mind to describe Columbia’s treatment of Floridita restaurant and its owner Ramon Diaz—described ably in the Feb. 4 Spectator article (“Floridita owner files complaint against Columbia”)—in the face of resounding success on all of its stated objectives for its expansion into Manhattanville. Floridita, a family-owned Harlem institution formerly located on Broadway and 125th Street, had been in continuous operation for over 40 years before Columbia could not find it in its heart to arrange a workable relocation solution in its grand vision. The community space stands shuttered, its 40 employees unemployed, its future in doubt.

That’s right. In a $6 billion expansion plan, there just wasn’t enough room to accommodate a beloved Cuban diner.

For someone who supports the expansion, eminent domain could potentially be justified. “While the methods might be questionable,” our potential expansion supporter might say, “the University needs a contiguous campus, and businesses in the area are standing in the way.” The fact that Columbia pressed forward with its plan despite being soundly rejected by a Community Board 9 vote of 32 to 2? “Well, community democracy is all well and good, but they shouldn’t be allowed to hold the development of the city hostage.” The displacement of thousands of people from rising housing prices mentioned in the plan’s environmental impact statement? “Cities are dynamic—they change, and gentrification is the cost of progress.”

Let us be clear. We firmly and categorically reject all of these arguments, but we understand them. They have a logic that to us seems cruel, top-down, and ignorant of the particular challenges faced by low-income communities of color in today’s global cities, but there is a logic nonetheless. A reasonable person could hold these beliefs, and we would be glad to put them up for debate.

Our hypothetical expansion supporter would be at a loss to find a grand theoretical justification for taking a restaurant that has long been popular with students and community members alike and plopping it into an unusable asbestos-ridden building. He might also find it troubling that during the 2007 approval hearings, when the community board voted the plan down, Diaz had testified in favor of the expansion plan under the belief that his business would be accommodated, only to discover that the University did not believe that it had an obligation to find him a new space and neglected to inform him that his lease would expire early as part of the eminent domain proceedings then underway.

Or perhaps there is a logic. Why is the University going out of its way to destroy one of the bona fide community institutions that existed in Manhattanville, recklessly endangering countless individuals in the process?

How about greed? Instead of spending several hundred thousand of its own dollars to give Floridita a decent space, the administration knows that it is powerful enough to get its way in the courts.

But we would also bring up spite and vindictiveness. In 2008, we students organized a large event at Floridita that called for Columbia to make a commitment to accommodating the restaurant that was covered in various citywide newspapers and even prompted a television story from NY1. Perhaps the University doesn’t take kindly to those who point out the yawning chasm between its “community relations” rhetoric and the way in which it treats its less powerful neighbors and was inclined to put Floridita into a building that more resembled a Superfund site than a thriving community space.

At any rate, the University’s treatment of the restaurant is not only a poignant symbol of how it has treated community groups from the beginning of the expansion process—it is morally repugnant. And we should know that when we students or alumni of Columbia go walking down 125th street, our institution’s actions reflect on us. Certainly, the University claims that it acts on behalf of its students, and unless students dissent and call into question its practices, we consent in our silence.

This is not a question of whether you are for or against the expansion; this is a question of whether or not you are willing to stand up to abuse of power. Let’s organize and let the administration know that we are watching and that there are limits to their actions, and help a community institution that has faithfully served the people of West Harlem for decades. Let’s come together to save Floridita.

Andrew Lyubarsky is an ‘09 graduate of Columbia College with a degree in Hispanic Studies. He was a member of the Student Coalition on Expansion and Gentrification. Ben Totushek is a dual General Studies and School of International and Public Affairs student and is a member of the SCEG.