Shining the spotlight on America’s Black Revolutionary Era icons | Shackamaxon

This Juneteenth edition of Shackamaxon looks at the housing debate in Harrisburg, the recent state Supreme Court decision on skill games, and some Revolutionary Era stories you might not have heard before.

It is increasingly clear that legislators in Harrisburg want to do something about housing affordability in Pennsylvania. What’s less clear is whether they’re willing to take the most necessary step: preempting local governments.

The recent push to legalize accessory dwelling units, or ADUs, is a classic example of this tension. For the wide coalition of supporters, ADUs — think a backyard apartment — represent an obvious fix to the housing crisis. They allow families to live close to one another without the awkwardness of sharing a kitchen, while empty nesters can monetize their homes without moving and typically rent at affordable rates. There’s also significant demand for them.

Mario Mascioli, from Acorn Built Homes, says his company gets between 200 and 300 inquiries a month. A recently passed bill in the state House would allow property owners to build one unit per lot and restricts the ability of local authorities to regulate them out of existence.

It is now up to the state Senate to pass the bill. The Senate’s housing committee has met just twice so far this year. Some Republicans have been reluctant to embrace housing reform, citing a desire to avoid infringing on local control of zoning.

While the input of local communities will always be part of development politics, housing affordability is a regional issue. Acting as a commonwealth ensures that all of our cities, townships, and boroughs do their share when it comes to new housing — and that no municipality can sabotage ADU construction.

Additionally, some conservative organizations like Americans for Prosperity have backed the bill. For these groups, property rights and economic opportunity make embracing preemption worthwhile.

In fact, the coalition to reform housing rules is refreshingly broad. From right-leaning groups like Americans for Prosperity to self-described socialists like State Sen. Nikil Saval, there is a growing understanding that change is essential. This need is underlined by the rapidly increasing costs to purchase a home. In Villanova, even the most affordable options now cost $1 million.

For the entirety of Josh Shapiro’s first term as governor, one question has dominated the revenue side of state budget proceedings. Will Pennsylvania regulate and tax so-called games of skill, and at what rate, and under what authority?

Proponents of the games argued they are distinct from slot machines and should pay a lower rate. They also want the devices to avoid being placed under the state Gambling Control Board. Critics say otherwise. Some want the machines to be gone altogether, citing their negative impact on communities. Others want them restricted and taxed like slot machines, which can only operate at licensed casinos and hand over most of their revenue to the commonwealth. Efforts by local governments, like Philadelphia’s, to ban the machines have been stymied by the courts.

At least until this week.

After years of debate, the state Supreme Court ruled that the devices are actually slots after all, reversing an earlier Commonwealth Court ruling that had maintained there is a difference. This new ruling aligns with my own experience testing the machines. You put in cash, press a button, and hope the symbols align.

Given this fact, which is now the legal opinion of Pennsylvania, it doesn’t make much sense to tax the machines at a different rate than existing slots. Neither does allowing them to proliferate in every gas station, corner store, and bar that wants them. Like slots, skill games should be limited to operating in designated areas, and access must be controlled by age. They should also be controlled by the same regulators as other gaming devices. While the commonwealth absolutely could use the revenue boost legalizing the machines will bring, the priority should be on mitigating their impact.

Philadelphia has been known as the home of Ben Franklin and Betsy Ross for centuries and boasts several professional reenactors who bring these Revolutionary Era leaders to life. While both Franklin and Ross have earned their public profiles, they are far from the only local figures worth memorializing.

Michael Idriss, a former classmate of mine at Temple University who now manages the Museum of the American Revolution’s African American Interpretive Program, has brought another name to light: Cyrus Bustill, an enslaved baker who freed himself, supplied George Washington’s troops at Valley Forge, and helped found the Free African Society of Philadelphia.

Idriss also helped set up the museum’s Black Founders exhibit, which focused on James Forten, a Black patriot and business owner who funded abolitionist causes.

Idriss refers to himself as an interpreter rather than a re-enactor and has brought to light a pivotal but until now under-appreciated Founding Father. Bustill’s work has even qualified his descendants, like Joyce Mosley, for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution, an elite service organization.

An elder statesman to figures like Forten, Absalom Jones, and Richard Allen, Bustill represents the lesser-known stories of the Free Philadelphians of African descent before, during, and after the revolution. By 1838, there were 20,000 free Black Philadelphians.

In many ways, their story should sound familiar. After the revolution, many felt that America should live up to its lofty ideals. Pennsylvania passed a law ensuring gradual emancipation, and many people of all races became abolitionists. Then came the backlash. A populist and crass president had come to power and Black stories were buried. It sounds sadly familiar, doesn’t it?