Most people whose homes are threatened by development take the buyout, if hesitantly. The alternative, to fight, is often too overwhelming, a battle that would almost certainly end in defeat. Thankfully there are a few stalwarts who accept the herculean task of standing up to the man, channelling their rage and frustration into pragmatic action—a spiteful retort to stifling systems of state-sponsored redevelopment and commercial real estate.

In the U.S., we’re familiar with eminent domain as the process by which government can appropriate private property for public use, like a new freeway or bridge, or as easement for areas deemed to be “blighted.” But over time, the courts have come to recognize an expanded view of “public use” to include things like sports stadiums, which supposedly bring benefit to the communities they disrupt. Usually in these cases residents are paid to vacate their homes for market, or above market, rates, along with a hardship fee. But a sense of place can be worth more than money. And since at least the turn of the 20th century, some tenacious tenants have been clinging to their homes with the only bargaining chip they have—they were there first.

George Bellows, The Lone Tenement, 1909. (National Gallery of Art)

Holdouts can be found anyplace that urban expansion clashes with longtime residential communities. But their visibility in the modern city is pronounced, no doubt a symptom of density and growth, and the constant struggle between commercial and residential interests. In 1909, George Bellows painted The Lone Tenement, a picture so true to its moment that it almost reads as reportage. In it, the eponymous apartment building is seen standing solitary in an empty field, cast in shadows by the girders of a nearly completed Queensborough Bridge. The winter scene was typical in New York at the time, where some examples of successful early holdouts can still be seen today.

In China, where urban expansion and infrastructure have been raging at a breakneck pace for the past few decades, holdouts draw national attention for the dramatics of stubborn residents and developers alike. Known colloquially as “nail houses,” Chinese holdouts are respected for their unwillingness to give in—like a nail that wont be hammered down.