Green Form and Function versus Green Nativism: In changing urban spaces full of novel ecosystems and natural assemblages, is native purity a viable option?

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
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Pippin Anderson, Cape Town How do I feel about exotic plant species in cities? Bring them on! How do I feel about invasive exotics in cities? Zero tolerance, extirpate!
Erle Ellis, Baltimore The natives are restless: it’s time to embrace species on the move and the biodiversity melting pots of the Anthropocene.
Leonie Fischer, Berlin A mix of native target and nonnative spontaneous species may perform best as viable assemblages for restoration in novel urban ecosystems.
Mark Hostetler, Gainesville I propose that a goal for urban green infrastructure is not native purity, but a sensible mix of native and exotic plants.
Madhusudan Katti, Fresno There is opportunity in California’s drought  crisis to transform cities into more biophilic and resilient places in harmony with the regional climate and water availability.
Ingo Kowarik, Berlin It’s time to reconcile controversial positions in the alien/native debate. We need differentiated approaches, and thinking before acting.
Mark McDonnell, Melbourne We need to move beyond this moral dualism where we view native species as ‘good’ and exotic species as ‘bad.’
Colin Meurk, Lincoln From a national duty of care perspective for biodiversity, there is an imperative to eradicate or manage alien organisms that pose a threat to our productive systems, biodiversity (indigenousness), and natural character of landscapes.
Matt Palmer, New York City Manage the real impacts, though measuring them is hard. “Native purity” can be a useful aspiration but is a nearly impossible goal.  
Bill Toomey, Sandy Hook  It may be unrealistic to think we have the time, money and resources to manage our existing urban areas and nature in cities with a purist, native-only perspective.
Yolanda van Heezik, Dunelin A significant downside of allowing introduced species to take over our environment is loss of national identity.
Paula Villagra, Los Rios Urban spaces are newer ecosystem types and imply thinking about and planning for them as hybrid systems, which are neither natural nor anthropic.
Divya Gopal

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Divya Gopal

Divya Gopal is a researcher at the Department of Ecology, TU Berlin, focussing on the role of culture in urban green spaces.

Introduction

Nature is dynamic, constantly evolving and adapting to changes. In its various forms and functions (be it plants or animals), nature is accounting for human-induced changes, reorganizing itself to form novel ecosystems. Urban spaces are distinct novel ecosystems with a mix of various green forms—cultivated ornamental exotics, spontaneous exotics, spontaneous natives, invasive weeds, hybrids and more. Irrespective of their origins, most forms of greenery are welcome in our concrete urban jungles. They seem to perform various ecosystem functions in our densely packed urban spaces.

While conservation of native species is important, is it viable, in rapidly evolving urban spaces, to insist on native purity? With increasing numbers of climate refugees, can native purity be stressed too much? Or is it better to look at green forms and functions—both native and introduced—where they assist ecosystem functioning, filling up gaps in urban ecosystems? Instead of the “good natives, bad aliens” narrative, should conservationists look only at aggressive invasives that disrupt certain ecosystem functions as bad, rather than emphasizing purity? How important is it to strictly plant native species in urban areas? Can non-natives also be welcome?

Pippin Anderson

about the writer
Pippin Anderson

Pippin Anderson, a lecturer at the University of Cape Town, is an African urban ecologist who enjoys the untidiness of cities where society and nature must thrive together. FULL BIO

Pippin Anderson

How do I feel about exotic plant species in cities? Bring them on! How do I feel about invasive exotics in cities? Zero tolerance, extirpate!

I think so much of the beauty of cities is in their diversity. Individual cities have phenomenal diversity in their people, cultures, religions, views, gardens, buildings and public spaces. Indeed, different cities even smell differently. It is this very diversity that makes cities the “fonts of ingenuity” they are celebrated for. I believe the same goes for exotic species in cities. Why not embrace this element of human choice and conviction? It brings considerable joy to be able to select plant species, and people should have the right to choose based on preference, use, aesthetics, aroma and even just keeping up with the people next door. Indigenous species have a role to play in contributing to critical species pools and linking smaller city conservation entities, for example, but I think allowing freedom of choice among urban dwellers in what they plant will still see some people choosing to plant indigenous flora.

Diversity, including exotic species, makes cities the ‘fonts of ingenuity’ they are celebrated for.

Having said that, I do think we need to take an extremely firm view against invasive exotic species in cities. Cities are typical entry points for invasive exotic species. As these species do considerable ecological harm to indigenous communities, with ecosystem service and livelihood repercussions, it would be irresponsible not to take a firm and vigilant approach to invasive species in cities. I think turning a blind eye to invasive exotics in cities, or taking a view that they somehow be tolerated due to the urban setting, is something akin to ignoring a primary cancer.

So it appears to be something of a yes/no answer from me on this question, but I do believe the two categories are clearly differentiated. There is, of course, the potential threat, in light of anticipated change, that some currently benign exotics will turn invasive. What better place to keep an eye on this possibility, though, than in our cities? Here we have expertise, resources and the opportunity for considerable civic engagement (for example, the highly effective iSpot site). I believe we should embrace exotic species, which afford the public ecological autonomy and considerable joy, but we should simultaneously use the opportunity to engage the public and ensure people are educated in what is indigenous, exotic, and invasive. I believe the City of Cape Town is making considerable inroads in this area and their website presents a number of projects to this end.

Erle Ellis

about the writer
Erle Ellis

Erle Ellis is Professor of Geography & Environmental Systems at UMBC and Visiting Professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Design.

Erle Ellis

Natives on the move: embracing change and evolution in biodiversity melting pots

The call to sustain native species in urban landscapes began decades ago in the U.S. Native plantings are now widespread. Partly in response to this trend, native wildlife—from songbirds to foxes, beavers, coyotes, wolves and bears—are returning to and thriving within regions they were driven from long ago. Native plantings are responsible to some degree, as native plant communities have been shown to sustain larger populations of native wildlife than nonnative plantings under some conditions. This is good news: a reversal of trends toward declining native biodiversity in landscapes increasingly inhospitable to wildlife.

Yet an exclusive focus on planting natives in urban landscapes might create more problems than it can solve. To begin with, the concept of a “native species” is, itself, a problem. Species are generally considered native based on a long history of inhabiting a specific area—but how long is long enough? In parts of Europe, species introduced before 1492 (“archaeophytes”) are distinguished from more recent arrivals (neophytes) and are therefore considered “more native.” European earthworms now predominate in soils across North America and no one realistically plans to eradicate these alien ecosystem engineers, despite their transformative effects on ecosystems. Outside the tropics, the native ranges of species have always been dynamic, migrating south ahead of glacial ice and north with the return of warming. Now, with climate changing faster than ever, species are moving north again. Attempting to keep species where they are “native” would involve limiting their northwards migrations. In the Anthropocene, there are negative consequences to labeling some species as natives and others not.

Novel communities often produce high levels of ecosystem services and provide valuable habitats for native wildlife.

What does “native” mean in an anthropogenic landscape full of built structures, tilled soils, excess nutrients and heat, pollutants, and other human-altered conditions? Urban ecosystems are novel ecosystems permanently transformed in biota and environmental conditions from those that existed before. It should be no surprise that novel ecosystems are full of species from other places, introduced both intentionally and unintentionally. Novel communities are the biodiversity mixing pots of the Anthropocene, bringing natives together with introduced species and immigrants from all over the world. Novel communities often produce high levels of ecosystem services and provide valuable habitats for native wildlife.

That seemingly inhospitable environments, such as brownfields and vacant lots, can support diverse and thriving novel communities rife with ecosystem services is truly remarkable, and these would generally not be possible if only native species were present. Some of the most common species in urban landscapes, such as the Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus altissima) and the Rock Pigeon (Columba livia) are found across the cities of the world. These are the true natives of the urban landscape.

More_Angkor_Trees_(1503334934)
Francisco Anzola at Ta Promh Temple, Angkor Wat, Siem Riep, Cambodia. Image: Francisco Anzola, Wikimedia Commons

To sustain the diversity of life on Earth over the course of the Anthropocene, extinction of species must be avoided while evolutionary processes that produce biodiversity are sustained. Quite often, native plantings in parks and yards are domesticates produced by large scale nurseries and seed corporations, and many are reproduced by cloning. These “natives” might as well be crops, and when they breed with remnant populations of wild natives, their narrow genetic base can reduce diversity in nearby populations of natives that are regenerating without human direction. By planting native cultivars, we may be helping to end the evolution by natural selection of our most favored native species.

As Earth moves deeper into the Anthropocene, species are on the move and coming together in ever more novel communities, ecosystems and landscapes—the biodiversity melting pots of the Anthropocene. It is time to assist native species in moving and to embrace a dynamic vision of what it means to be native: to belong in a place, whether it is urban, agricultural, seminatural or wild.

Are cities really the best places to conserve native species? The value of natives in cities is unclear, especially when these are domesticates. Biodiversity conservation is a global challenge and urban areas cover just a small percentage of Earth’s land. Yet the infrastructure of cities crosses continents; by redesigning transport networks, dams and hydrologic modifications, it may be possible to assist the migration of species responding to climate change. To conserve Earth’s remaining ecological heritage, it is time for our societies and our cultures of nature to embrace the dynamics of species on the move and the biodiversity melting pots of the Anthropocene—immigrants together with natives. We must work to sustain the wellsprings of evolution and biodiversity in the face of the unprecedented challenges of the Anthropocene.

Leonie Fischer

about the writer
Leonie Fischer

Leonie works as urban ecologist at Technische Universität Berlin, where she focuses on vegetation dynamics, conservation and restoration in urban landscapes.

Leonie Fischer

Urban restoration: induced coexistence of natives and nonnatives in novel ecosystems

During transformational processes, many green spaces evolve in urban areas such as derelict industrial sites, unused train tracks or forgotten garden lots. The vegetation communities of such wasteland sites can bear few botanical treasures, but can also be characterized by the most common ruderal species. In either case, the participating species can be native and nonnative species alike.

Urban wastelands have a great potential for conserving and fostering biodiversity.
Plant communities of informal urban greenspaces are often shaped by the specific history and setting of the site (e.g., its soil type, its water availability or its anthropogenic disturbances), by its surrounding (the urban matrix), and by its potential seed sources (the seed bank of the site, nearby plantings or dispersal vectors such as humans, animals or cars). That is, a site’s plant community developed out of the site’s history and its surroundings, and can thus bear an unusual mix of species that is best adapted to the site’s special setting.

Given the homogenization of plant communities at the international level, I argue that urban wastelands have a great potential for conserving and fostering biodiversity. They can be used as refuges for rare and regional species, and (if succession is not the focus of conservation) can be optimized for habitat conservation. Techniques of ecological restoration adapted to an urban context can be used to establish substitute habitats that are lost outside cities. In such cases, the aim is to establish particular plant species and to ensure that they build viable populations in the long run. That means that target species need to be able to compete with their ruderal neighbors. In the end, they may jointly form novel types of species assemblages.

In my opinion, such restored plant communities do not need to display the historical stages of their reference ecosystems, but rather can be adapted to the ever-changing urban context. In addition to native target species central to conservation efforts, these communities may include those species that are best adapted to the site, independent of their origin. Only when this is true will restored sites function in the long run, without an exaggerated dose of maintenance and care.

Nevertheless, in the act of urban restoration, we can give a “signal” for native target species to establish on new sites, as these may not have gotten there due to spatial barriers or missing propagule pools in the surrounding.

Given that most city dwellers experience nature in their close surroundings by looking outside the window on their way to work, for example, I argue that their needs and preferences are of equal importance to what nature conservationists focus on. We should find out if people highly value certain natives or certain species assemblages that are dominated by natives (e.g., when defining target species for a restoration project). If urban restoration succeeds in identifying flagship species that are of native origin, the goals of both sides can be incorporated.

In the end, I speak up for (a) identifying and using the potential of urban contexts to foster native species, such as on urban wastelands, and thus contribute to a diverse, heterogenous urban flora, (b) welcoming urban plant communities that are largely a mix of species of different origins that rely on the environmental settings of a site, and (c) including aesthetic preferences of residents when choosing of a set of species, independent of the origin of those species.

Urban restoration_fig. Leonie Fischer
Urban grassland restoration as an example that both sown native target species and spontaneous nonnatives can form viable species assemblages that are aesthetically appealing. Image: L.K. Fischer
Mark Hostetler

about the writer
Mark Hostetler

Dr. Mark Hostetler conducts research and outreach on how urban landscapes could be designed and managed to conserve biodiversity. He conducts a national continuing education course on conserving biodiversity in subdivision development, and published a book, The Green Leap: A Primer for Conserving Biodiversity in Subdivision Development.

Mark Hostetler

Around the world, cities are a mixture of exotic and native species. These novel or “recombinant ecosystems” represent unique plant and animal communities that have been purposely or accidently created by humans. The question posed for this roundtable is whether “native purity” is a viable option for urban green infrastructure. I would suggest that returning urban habitats to a semblance of past, native assemblages of species is unrealistic in most cities.

Instead, we should think about restoring urban habitats in terms of “reconciliation ecology,” where the goal is not to return to pristine, indigenous habitats, but to implement strategies that simply increase the diversity of native species in urban areas. Below, I touch on why we should increase native diversity in cities and why we should be careful about the types of exotics used in cities.

Natural heritage and the extinction of experience

With more and more people living in cities, the chance to experience and appreciate indigenous flora and fauna is in yards, neighborhoods and city parks. With the same generalist (exotic) species dominating cities around the world, this homogenized environment is what urban residents experience and they lose touch with their unique natural heritage. This exposure to a more degraded habitat and isolation from native plants and animals reduces peoples’ connection to nature and willingness to invest time and money for biodiversity conservation. Implementing strategies that increase the diversity of native plants and animals would expose citizens to local species, creating a sense of place. This strong identity with native plant and animal species ultimately raises awareness and support for biodiversity conservation.

Native animal diversity, in general, is correlated to native vegetation diversity.
Exotics and risk of environmental impacts

Exotic plants in urban landscapes can require a large amount of care, which increases natural resource consumption and impacts on the environment. For example, turfgrass and some ornamental plants (e.g., roses) installed on nutrient poor soils in Florida means a homeowner has to irrigate, use herbicides and pesticides, and fertilize extensively to keep the grass and plants healthy. Excess fertilizers (e.g., phosphate and nitrate that is not taken up by yard plants) end up in local wetlands and water bodies when nutrients run off the landscape after a storm event. With pesticides, these chemicals are not specific to the pest insect and kill many native pollinators such as bees, beetles, wasps and butterflies.

Furthermore, the maintenance of turfgrass and ornamentals can actually cause a net increase in CO2 and other greenhouse gases. This is due to the use of fertilizers, irrigation and mowing of a manicured landscape, which takes fossil fuels, thus releasing CO2 into the atmosphere. Greenhouse gas emissions from yard management practices are greater than the amount of carbon stored by lawns and manicured ornamentals.

Exotics and risk of decreasing native plant and animal diversity

Selecting and installing primarily exotic plant species would ultimately decrease native plant diversity because of the simple fact that native plants would be absent from urban areas. Also, native animal diversity, in general, is correlated to native vegetation diversity. For example, native urban bird diversity increases with native vegetation; more native plants serve as host plants for native butterfly larvae; and native bee diversity increases with the occurrence of native plants. However, some exotics can provide food and shelter for native species. For example, butterflies obtain nectar from pentas (e.g., exotic cultivars of Pentas lanceolata) in Florida and elsewhere around the world.

Another risk associated with using exotic plants is that one may introduce invasive species into the environment. While many exotics are not invasive, some introduced plants are not designated as invasive until it is too late, having already spread from urban to natural areas. When exotic plants are used, known invasive plants should be eliminated and, where information is lacking about the invasive status of a plant, perhaps the precautionary principle should be applied. This states that if the risk is serious enough, the absence of full scientific certainty should not be used to postpone actions to prevent environmental degradation.

In summary, I propose that a goal for urban green infrastructure is not native purity, but a sensible mix of native and exotic plants. In cities, this means increasing the use and conservation of native plant and animal species; using exotics that are low maintenance and provide an ecosystem service, such as sequestering and storing carbon; using exotics that provide shelter and food for native animals; and not planting any exotics that have the potential of becoming invasive.

Madhusudan Katti

about the writer
Madhusudan Katti

Madhusudan is an evolutionary ecologist who discovered birds as an undergrad after growing up a nature-oblivious urban kid near Bombay, went chasing after vanishing wildernesses in the Himalaya and Western Ghats as a graduate student, and returned to study cities grown up as a reconciliation ecologist.

Madhusudan Katti

The paradox of native purity in a fundamentally nonnative ecosystem

Cities in California are at a crossroads in terms of their long-term sustainability and resilience. While a couple of recent storms have brought some relief after a long, hot, dry, and fiery summer, and El Niño promises more precipitation this winter, these won’t be enough to address the long-term drought. California’s drought, of course, is a result not just of long-term climatic variability—dry spells are more the norm than the exception in the arid Southwest after all—but also of how people have sucked up and redistributed the state’s water.

Last May, the Governor declared an emergency, ordering mandatory cutbacks in water usage throughout the state. Water departments and utility districts scrambled to develop new policies and rules to enforce the restrictions. Many of California’s urban majority felt unfairly targeted because the thirstiest sector in the state is agriculture. Nevertheless, many of the cities managed to meet the conservation targets, cutting water use by a third in just a few months.

What are the consequences of such a reduction in water use? And how does this tie in to the question of native vs. nonnative species?

We don’t actually know how to cultivate and nurture many of the native species in urban gardens!
California’s sprawling suburbs are characterized by lawns dotted with trees—not just palm trees. The urban flora is full of species from elsewhere in the world. Many come from wetter regions and thrive under the California sun only when given plenty of water. Many are dying under the current combination of drought and water restrictions. This raises new concerns about the loss of other ecosystem services that plants bring to cities and increased fire risk from dry vegetation. How can we reap the benefits of a green infrastructure in a now mostly brown region?

There is opportunity in this crisis for transforming these cities into more biophilic and resilient places in harmony with the regional climate and water availability. Indeed many residents are ripping out lawns and looking for alternative vegetation. Wouldn’t it be great if we could also get rid of all the “alien” species, and fill the cityscape with natives only greenery?

One problem with this vision of restoring “native purity” to this anthropogenic landscape: we don’t actually know how to cultivate and nurture many of the native species in urban gardens! In the Central California region, for example, there are but two local nurseries that supply native plants. There hasn’t been enough of the trial-and-error work that goes into domesticating native plants to turn them into marketable nursery products for the urban garden. Many of them also defy people’s expectation of “greenery,” and end up suffering from too much watering.

So there is a gap between the desire for native vegetation and our ability to actually grow native plants in cities in ways that meet the sociocultural, recreational, and aesthetic needs of people who live in urban landscapes. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other plants, from other regions, that can help us grow water-wise gardens. It would be foolish to turn away all such plants simply because they didn’t evolve in this part of the world. Worry about species likely to escape from gardens into the surrounding countryside, displacing native plants there, of course. But why let that worry get in the way of the benefits many other plants bring into our urban landscapes? We can keep working on domesticating more native species, even as we soften the urban landscape with a mix of whatever works to bring us the ecosystem services without sucking up too much water or disrupting native ecosystems. Nonnative species are not only here to stay, but can help us green the manufactured landscape of nonnative urban ecosystems.

Ingo Kowarik

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Ingo Kowarik

Ingo Kowarik is an expert on urban biodiversity, biological invasions and urban conservation approaches.

Ingo Kowarik

The alien-native debate is always good for hot controversy, but usually risks simplification. This particularly holds for cities. Here, “native purity” is as inadequate as is an “aliens welcome everywhere” approach. I thus think that it’s time to reconcile controversial positions and to come out with differentiated approaches! Why?

Good alien, bad alien? The right answer often depends on the context.
  1. Urban diversity requires diversity in approaches. Urban nature is often highly heterogeneous. Not everything is novel. Many cities comprise remnant ecosystems that stem from natural landscapes or traditional rural landscapes. Other green spaces have been created by humans, such as parks, or emerge as novel ecosystems in highly modified urban-industrial sites. Ecological analyses have revealed that different urban ecosystems have clearly different habitat functions for native and nonnative species, and for species of conservation concern in particular. Adopting only one general strategy for all urban habitats is thus unreasonable, regardless of claiming “native purity” or “aliens welcome everywhere.”
  2. Good alien, bad alien? The right answer often depends on the context. Take the highly invasive North American tree, Robinia pseudoacacia, as an example. It is known to threaten rare grassland species in Europe. Yet Robinia is also a highly valuable urban street tree, well adapted to climate change. From plantings, Robinia is spreading in Berlin and colonizes urban wastelands. Counterintuitively, our recent studies revealed no important effects on native plant or animal species when we compared Robinia to a native pioneer tree. At other sites, however, Robinia transforms (semi-)natural grassland with endangered species. In consequence, Berlin’s biodiversity strategy combines two aims in regard to nonnative species: if negative impacts on species or habitats of conservation concern are evident in a local context, nonnatives are managed. If not, they are accepted as part of ever-changing urban ecosystems. Such differentiation allows urban ecosystems to evolve and saves resources. Managing alien species always and everywhere would be highly costly and, as experience from many management projects shows, highly ineffective.
  3. Novel ecosystems, novel liaison between native and exotic species. Exotic species are often prominent in novel urban ecosystems and they underpin a range of ecosystem services. It’s thus reasonable to integrate nonnative species into the urban green infrastructure. Examples are: planting introduced trees where native trees don’t work or enhancing wild vegetation, usually a mixture of natives and nonnatives, in urban green spaces. “Novel wilderness” dominated by nonnative species has been successfully integrated in a range of parks in Berlin. Yet novel urban ecosystems can also contribute to the conservation of native species that use novel habitats as analogues to natural habitats. Since plants are usually dispersal limited—that is, they do not colonize each site where they might survive—it is also reasonable to enhance native species in some novel urban ecosystems. Leonie Fischer successfully tested adding native grassland species to urban wastelands in Berlin. Novel urban ecosystems thus also offer novel opportunities for native species, which might work in combination with nonnatives.
Access to the Nature of the fourth kind at S �dgel�nde, Berlin, a former railway yard
Novel urban woodland, dominated by the invasive tree Robinia pseudoacacia, in the nature conservation area “Südgelände” in Berlin. Here, novel combinations of native and nonnative species can develop in response to novel environmental conditions. Image: Ingo Kowarik

To conclude: Both natives and nonnatives are inextricable components of urban ecosystems. They occur in changing mixtures, usually responding to changing urban environments. Both species groups underpin ecosystem services that we urgently need in cities. It’s true: nonnative species can be a threat to native biodiversity, but this is often strictly context dependent. Evidence from Berlin shows limited conflicts, but this could be different in other cities. It’s necessary to analyze the local situation before acting. Be ready to enhance urban biodiversity by balancing risks and opportunities of individual species in individual situations—both for natives and nonnatives. Differentiation instead of simplification is promising for enhancing urban biodiversity in a changing world.

Mark McDonnell

about the writer
Mark McDonnell

Mark has spent the past 25 years conducting ecological studies focused on understanding the structure and function of urban ecosystems, and the conservation of biodiversity in cities and towns.

Mark McDonnell

The preservation and conservation of native plants and animals in urban ecosystems is an admirable and ambitious aspiration considering cities have been built for people with little or no consideration of biological diversity for hundreds of years or more. Indeed, as Bill Cronon writes, defenders of biological diversity more commonly talk about wilderness areas rather than human-dominated ecosystems. Recently, comparative analyses of biological diversity in cities around the world demonstrate they are critical to maintaining global biodiversity. It is pretty clear that one of the greatest threats to native or indigenous plants and animals is the invasion of nonnative or exotic species. There is a large and growing body of research that demonstrates that the abundance and spread of these exotic invasive species is due to the direct and indirect action of humans.

Exotic species pose both a threat and a benefit for rapidly changing urban ecosystems.
It is important to note that the loss of native species in urban ecosystems is not due solely to the presence of exotic invasive species. Many native species are lost due to the complete destruction of, or alterations to, critical habitat or the loss of vital resources such as water or food. A recent study of 22 cities around the globe found that cities with 30 percent or more native vegetation cover experienced fewer native plant extinctions. Similarly, in another study of over 100 cities, researchers found that the presence of intact vegetation cover resulted in higher concentrations of native birds and plants. Many of us would like to see native species retained in urban ecosystems because they possess numerous recognised values that contribute to our natural and cultural heritage and because they provide a variety of unique ecosystem services.

Exotic species pose both a threat and a benefit for rapidly changing urban ecosystems. The ICUN recently published a report citing the significant threat of invasive alien species to Europe’s biodiversity. Conversely, Matt Palmer recently published a TNOC blog that discusses the many advantages of having exotic species in urban ecosystems. In general, many exotic species provide important cultural and ecosystem services in rapidly changing urban environments that are inhospitable to native species.

Because there are clear benefits to creating urban ecosystems that support both native and exotic species, I feel we need to move beyond this moral dualism where we view native species as ‘good’ and exotic species as ‘bad.’ Instead, we should adopt a concept of a ‘continuum of nativism’ (see the figure below) in which we assess the value of native and exotic species, as well as our conservation and restoration activities, as a function of the level of urban development. In the figure I use the percent of the urban ecosystem covered by impermeable surface as the measure of urban. As the percentage of impermeable surface increases in an ecosystem, there is a loss of native species and an increase in exotic species (C, Option 1). Option 2 represents the potential abundance of native species if planning, design, management and restoration practices are altered to support their survival. In Section A of the continuum, there may be little interest in maintaining native species because they are abundant in the ecosystems. In addition, exotic species would have little value in ecosystems that fall within this section of the Continuum. In Section B and C of the Continuum, we would expect more interest and support for preserving, conserving and restoring native species as they disappear (e.g., European cities). Cities that fall within Section B of the Continuum will still find it cost effective to maintain and restore native species. On the other hand, cities that fall within Section C of the Continuum may find it too difficult or expensive to preserve, conserve or restore native species. In this section of the Continuum, exotic species would be viewed as more valuable because they provide a variety of ecosystem services.

A continuum of nativism showing the relationship between percent impermeable surface of an ecosystem and the abundance of native and exotic species. The value of native and exotic species will vary along the continuum, as will the feasibility and cost of maintaining native species. Option 1 illustrates the abundance of native and exotic species as ecosystems become highly urbanized. Option 2 illustrates an alternative outcome if planning, design, management and restoration activities are implemented to maintain native species in urbanizing ecosystems.
A continuum of nativism showing the relationship between percent impermeable surface of an ecosystem and the abundance of native and exotic species. The value of native and exotic species will vary along the continuum, as will the feasibility and cost of maintaining native species. Option 1 illustrates the abundance of native and exotic species as ecosystems become highly urbanized. Option 2 illustrates an alternative outcome if planning, design, management and restoration activities are implemented to maintain native species in urbanizing ecosystems.
Colin Meurk

about the writer
Colin Meurk

Dr Colin Meurk, ONZM, is an Associate at Manaaki Whenua, a NZ government research institute specialising in characterisation, understanding and sustainable use of terrestrial resources. He holds adjunct positions at Canterbury and Lincoln Universities. His interests are applied biogeography, ecological restoration and design, landscape dynamics, urban ecology, conservation biology, and citizen science.

Colin Meurk

The simple answer is “no”; “native purity” isn’t a realistic or viable option! It has been said that there are no “pure” indigenous ecosystems anywhere on the planet now — if you want to get down to the microbial scale. Novel ecosystems certainly predominate (often with abundant alien plants) in temperate to tropical climes. Various words to describe these systems have gone in and out of fashion — novel, recombinant, hybrid, reconciliation ecology, even “ragga-muffin.” I’ve provided a typology (Meurk 2011) for such mixed communities based on their initial condition, imposed conditions, ratio of indigenous to exotic species, and the trend in that relative balance. It defines various stages of maturity, mixing, displacement and recombination. Four broad “initial” conditions’ are remnant, spontaneous (successional), deliberative (planted), and complex (mixtures of several states).

But, what is “wild?” There is an appetite again for “rewinding” and using “cues for care” in urban environments to make this acceptable.
The notes prepared for this forum ask somewhat rhetorically about the presence, value, threats and desirability of exotic species and their control. From a national duty of care perspective for biodiversity, there is an imperative to eradicate or manage alien organisms that pose a threat to our productive systems, biodiversity (indigenousness), and natural character of landscapes. Otherwise, regional individuality and identity will be lost in homogeneity. Check out the wilding conifers spreading across the NZ landscape in some of those Lord of the Rings settings! There is a massive effort here to arrest the exponential phase of these northern continental pines.

“Pure” ecology desires fully indigenous ecosystems. Captive, gardened plants may preserve some of the genetic story, but not their full, intrinsic potential niche — the purpose of representative, nature conservation. On the other hand, species surviving in spontaneous recombinant ecosystems, especially if responding to a range of management or disturbance regimes, may be cumulatively exhibiting their fundamental ecological niche. I call this gradient management (see Meurk & Greenup 2003). Paradoxically, at least in the idiosyncratic biogeographic context of NZ, the survival of many lowland herbaceous species may depend on creating a wide range of stressed and disturbed combinations (cf Grime) in urban environments.

But, what is “wild?” There is an appetite again for “rewinding” and using “cues for care” (Nassauer) in urban environments to make this acceptable. The niche envelopes can be as surely defined in these contrived ‘wild’ urban environments as in the real wild. With many environmental stress/disturbance combinations, native species will individually survive by chance at some points and places, in combination with some (weakened) exotic species, then reproduce and eventually find their ‘natural’ position in the gradients provided as self-sustaining populations. That may be the future of many lowland, open habitat herbs. Then invertebrates, birds and lizards will find these plants and establish their ‘natural’ interactions. Meta-populations of such plants may form on roofs, walls, pavements, rock gardens, lawns etc. These habitats can be seen as forming an archipelago in urban environments!

But we can’t afford to be complacent and simply let aggressive introduced species take over. Some may be valuable as an interim stage back to a stronger representation of indigenous nature in the landscape. There are many cases in NZ of exotic shrubs and trees (Ulex, Pseudotsuga, Salix) acting as nurseries for native regeneration, but more often than not the continentally honed, introduced species are more successful in exploiting the periodic disturbances in human landscapes. It is also a slippery slope to promote ES and function as the hand maiden of biodiversity. To maximise dollar value of ES in NZ you would replace all indigenous, predominantly endemic, species with the most productive (invariably exotic) species from across the planet. So, is green form and function the goal? Surely not, for biodiversity, regional points of difference and identity. My position would be to work hard to find niches for all biodiversity, but don’t be hung up on a losing battle for “purity!” There is lots of good urban conservation to be done in recombinant ecosystems.

Meurk, C.D. 2011. Recombinant Ecology of Urban areas — characterisation, context and creativity. Pp 198-220 in Douglas, I., Goode, D., Houck, M.C., Wang, R. (editors), The Routledge Handbook of Urban Ecology. Routledge, London.

Meurk, C.D., Greenep, H. 2003. Practical conservation and restoration of herbaceous vegetation. Canterbury Botanical Society Journal 37: 99-108.

Matt Palmer

about the writer
Matt Palmer

Matt Palmer is a senior lecturer in the department of Ecology, Evolution and Environmental Biology at Columbia University. His research interests are primarily in plant community ecology, with emphases on conservation, restoration and ecosystem function.

Matt Palmer

“Native purity” in urban ecosystems can be a useful aspiration—but it is a nearly impossible goal. It is far more reasonable to manage our dynamic urban biosphere based on the advantages and limitations of individual species, whether native or introduced.

There are certain urban places worth intensive management to maintain their historic biota.
In the debate about introduced species, advocates can stake out strong positions. One camp holds that introduced species are strictly problems to be managed. For this group, there is a battle to be won against a rising tide of hostile enemies that threaten the lives of our native species and the integrity of our native ecosystems—urban and otherwise. On the other side of the debate are those that consider the change in biological communities as an inevitable consequence of urbanization. Cities are vastly different than the ecosystems they replaced, so trying to reconstruct original natural systems may seem a fool’s errand.

There are merits to both positions. There are certain urban places worth intensive management to maintain their historic biota. But there are also many urban places so altered from their original conditions that few natives can persist without perpetual care and where introduced species provide services with less intervention. Then there is a wide spectrum in between—sites where a mix of native and introduced species provide services with limited management.

While it’s easy to advocate for the middle ground, there are challenges to making the “big tent” approach work:

Gardening vs. restoration

In principle, we could have any mix of species in any place. This is essentially gardening, and it can be very expensive. But many urban natural areas are only lightly managed, both by design—to “let nature take its course”—and because of the limited time, money and staff available to land managers.

Most projects to manage introduced species have a period of intense activity—cutting, spraying, trapping, replanting, etc.—with expectations for limited management after the target species are “controlled.” However, many projects fail—eradication is rare and populations of introduced species recover. Success requires an extended commitment to management. This presents challenges related to the expense and difficulty of long-term planning in politics, but also because managing in perpetuity will affect people’s experience of urban nature. Our natural areas will inevitably be less wild and more designed.

Measuring impacts

While almost anyone would agree we should prioritize managing the “worst” introduced species and worry less about innocuous ones, knowing which actions to take is hard. Some introduced species cause significant damage, but are so abundant or resilient that they are essentially unmanageable. Others may displace native species but provide a similar set of services, so they may not cause as much damage as assumed. Conversely, some apparently innocuous species may be present at low abundance for decades before their numbers and impacts increase rapidly. One of the only ways to stop an introduction is to intervene early. This creates a conundrum: act early and you may spend resources managing a non-problem; wait to act to see if a species causes problems and you lose the chance to control it. It may seem prudent to err on the side of caution, but that level of caution may be too expensive.

A fundamental challenge here is that damage from introduced species is hard to measure and especially hard to predict. Rigorous, data-driven evaluation of management options is quite rare. A lot of money is spent to manage species on hunches, and with limited monitoring to evaluate success.

The conservation imperative      

The debate about intervention should consider the value of the species or places threatened by introduced species. If a native species is endangered, doing nothing may doom it to extinction—an irreversible loss. If the last remnant of native forest or endemic bird population is lost from an urban landscape, the opportunity for humans to connect to indigenous nature is lost. These lost connections make our day-to-day lives poorer, but also may affect the way we engage with nature broadly—with consequences for the whole planet.

Bill Toomey

about the writer
Bill Toomey

Bill Toomey is currently the Director of Forest Health working as part of the Nature Conservancy’s North American Forest Priority and Urban Conservation Strategies Initiatives.

Bill Toomey

Because many of them have been developed and built up over a period of hundreds of years, we now have a mix of native and nonnative species throughout our urban areas and cities. The species we now have in our cities are the result of choices made by millions of people, mostly independent of each other and based on person choices and preferences. Some urban nature is well planned and managed, such as in our city parks, gardens and roadsides, while other spaces are colonized by opportunistic and nonnative species. As land is converted into highly urbanized spaces, native habitats have been destroyed, altered and fragmented, and species that are not native to those areas have become established by accident or on purpose. Whether we like it or not, there are nonnative species living in our cities; they are taking advantage of the opportunity that disturbed areas and abandoned lands provide and which they are ecologically adapted to occupy. I am always amazed at the ability of some species to occupy marginal habitats and environments, such as cracks in paved areas, poor soils with high salinity or spaces with little access to water and nutrients. While there is benefit in establishing and maintaining areas that have exclusively native species, it may be unrealistic to think we have the time, money and resources to manage our existing urban areas and nature in cities with a purist, native-only perspective.

When planting, people should give preference to species that will do well in those local conditions, whether native or nonnative.
As people consider what trees and plants to include in their yard, along their streets and in their parks, preference should be given to those species that will do well in those local conditions, taking into account soil type and access to water and nutrients, and providing adequate space for the tree or plant to grow to its full, mature height and stature. In urban forestry, we stress the importance of planting the right tree in the right place for the right job. In most cases, there are good native plants to choose from, but we don’t always have to be limited by those choices. We should not intentionally introduce species into urban areas that are known to be invasive, but there are many plants that are currently in our urban environments that are not native that are well established and provide many benefits to people and wildlife species. Showing a preference to native species is important and has many benefits, for sure. But there is also a place for utilizing trees and plants that are not native, but will do well in selected locations and will not cause harm to native species, especially as we manage nature in our continually changing city environments.
Yolanda van Heezik

about the writer
Yolanda van Heezik

Yolanda van Heezik is currently exploring children’s connection with nature, and how ageing affects nature engagement. She is part of a multi-institutional team investigating restoration in urban areas, and cultural influences on attitudes to native biodiversity.

Yolanda van Heezik

New Zealand landscapes are dominated by introduced species, more so than in most other countries, and this is particularly evident in urban areas. In the city where I live, 44 percent of bird species are introduced, and they make up over half of the bird population. Gardens typically contain twice as many exotic as native woody species, and a significant proportion of gardens have no native plants at all. Across all gardens that we studied, 83 percent of woody species were introduced, with the most popular species being roses and rhododendrons. Dave Kendal’s work has shown that people’s preferences are strongly influenced by aesthetic traits, such as flower size and foliage colour, so it’s no surprise that the most popular native trees in NZ are those that have colourful flowers, such as kowhai and pohutakawa. We’ve asked people about their preferences for native as opposed to exotic plants and found a complete disconnect: most people say they prefer natives (40 percent) or a native/exotic mix (36 percent), but when we surveyed their gardens, these were dominated by exotics.

A significant downside of allowing introduced species to take over our environment is loss of national identity.
So, should we care? In the wider literature, a debate rages between those who feel it is critical we adopt a precautionary approach to how we manage alien species (e.g., Daniel Simberloff) and those that advocate that we should learn to love them (e.g., Mark Davis). Some argue that exotic species play a functional role in ecosystems and, in many cases, without prior knowledge of the system, we would be unable to distinguish whether species are “native” or not. A number of studies have shown that native birds and invertebrates are more abundant and/or diverse in neighbourhoods with native vegetation. However our own research and that of others shows urban native birds use many introduced species, such as oak, as much as they use native trees. And in residential gardens in the city where I live, the beetle community is mostly native, despite the low proportion of native woody plants.

In my mind, a significant downside of allowing introduced species to take over our environment is loss of national identity. I am occasionally appalled by the lack of knowledge and awareness many urban residents have regarding native species. I’ve been asked if there are any native birds in our city. I’m also disappointed when I see landscaping around prominent public features dominated by exotic species. New Zealand is admired by tourists for its green, beautiful scenery, but in many landscapes that green is almost entirely exotic. I don’t think that we will ever be able to remove introduced species from urban environments, even though they are a significant source of potentially invasive species and a major cause of biotic homogenisation. However, we should be creating cities that reflect our natural heritage and that emphasise our uniqueness.

Different perspectives emerge within the social science literature. My attitude could come under fire from those that argue that a “pro-native tyranny” has developed out of a suggested link between native plant advocacy and anti-immigrant “nativism,” and that landscape professionals should not feel constrained to use native species over more attractive exotic species.

Alternatively, the value I suggest people should place in native plants might be interpreted in the context of a contemporary reaction to a history of “botanical colonization,” whereby the natural NZ landscape was replaced with an English landscape. Whatever the motivation, I believe some kind of compromise must be sought that results in a greater representation of native species in urban areas, and fosters an enhanced sense of national identity through planting and encouraging those species that are “of this place.”

Paula Villagra

about the writer
Paula Villagra

Paula Villagra, PhD, is a Landscape Architect that researches the transactions between people and landscapes in environments affected by natural disturbances.

Paula Villagra

Urban spaces are newer ecosystem types and imply thinking about and planning for them as hybrid systems, which are neither natural nor anthropic. If the aim is to ensure the functioning of the natural system and, simultaneously, to provide goods and services to humans, then contemporary urban spaces should be thought as novel “hybrid” systems. As such, instead of insisting on the “good natives, bad aliens” narrative, what matters is finding the proper coexistence between them to provide ecosystem services, such as recreation and mitigation, as well as to maintain ecosystem functions, such as interactions between processes and structures.

If the purity of the environment is relevant in urban areas, then that is what must be protected, and the planning and design of the urban environment will focus on creating buffer areas and strategies to conserve that. Conversely, if natural spaces require some kind of “help” for the community to value and take care of them, such as through the introduction of alien species to give scenic diversity (e.g. diversity of color), or man-made elements to make the place more familiar and accessible (e.g. by introducing trails), then the focus will be to study which elements, either natural, exotic and/or man-made, are possible and required to ensure a good perception of the environment and biodiversity conservation.

Green forms and functions, both native and introduced, should be welcome in contemporary ‘hybrid’ urban areas.
One example in which this line of thought is relevant is the case of urban wetlands. The name says it all: they are natural systems with specific structures and processes that maintain a high diversity of species, but at the same time, they are systems subjected to urban pressures. Planning and design strategies should, on the one hand, focus to preserve their biodiversity, and on the other hand, should create an adequate bonding between human and nature.

The planning of urban wetlands in Chile, in particular, should fulfill this dual role. Given the characteristics of the country, which has more than 4,000 km of coastline along the Pacific Ocean, there are many coastal wetlands in urban areas that provide ecosystems services such as: serving as buffer zones in case of tsunami, providing water for agriculture, being part of sacred land of aboriginal people and providing pleasant places for recreation. At the same time, urban wetlands are important natural reserves worldwide, as they are feeding and nesting sites for migratory birds and also contain a high number of endemic plant species.

Regardless of these values of urban wetlands, the actions of urban dwellers who do not know their valuable functions and services is sometimes negative. In the winter season, these wetlands can be seen as ugly and marshy places, so the community perceived them as dangerous sites and used them as landfills. In summer, due to the type of vegetation they have, they are perceived as dry and lifeless places, and as sources of fire, increasing insecurity and the negative perceptions of them. However, through national and international initiatives, several of these wetlands have been defined as priority conservation sites, and as coastal reserves. These interventions have gone hand in hand with environmental education programs and the introduction of information panels and vantage points for the observation of birds, including trails linked to urban parks. These types of actions provide the opportunity for recreation while facilitating the community’s understanding of the functions of these systems and associated services to humans. Then, the perception of the community can change, because the virtues of wetlands, which are sometimes difficult to perceive for the average citizen, are revealed.

In this sense, green forms and functions, both native and introduced, are welcome in contemporary “hybrid” urban areas. Planners, landscape architects, urban designers and ecologists, among other professionals involved in urban development and biodiversity conservation, should focus their efforts on identifying those parts, structures, processes and functions of systems, both natural and man-made, which should be kept or changed. And they should work together to prioritize strategies for providing services as well as for revealing functions that are intangible and invisible to the non-scientific community.

Abandoned and Auctioned, an Old House Finds a Future in Flowers

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of Flower House Detroit, which ran October 16-18, 2015 at 11751 Dequindre St, Hamtramck, Michigan.

Once again, something amazing and ephemeral has appeared in Detroit.

Flower House Detroit (which was actually located in the city of Hamtramck, 2 square miles enveloped by the city of Detroit) was, at its simplest, a gorgeous three-day floral installation in a two-story abandoned house. In reality, the project was much, much more.

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The back stoop of the Flower House.

Lisa Waud was inspired to create Flower House Detroit after experiencing the 2012 Dior Runway show, which had been staged in an abandoned house filled with flowers in Paris. As a floral designer based in a neighborhood with more than its share of abandoned houses, Lisa knew that she was destined to create an installation that would bring the wild spirit of the Dior show to her hometown. As proprietor of pot + box, a flower studio operating in Detroit and Ann Arbor, Michigan, Lisa was uniquely qualified to inspire a team of designers, artists, photographers and event planners to bring her vision to life.

Lisa has long been a fan of the work of Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the French artists known for giant, breathtaking art installations, and she knew that her piece should have that same, awe-inspiring quality. A flower shed just wouldn’t do the trick. Her vision demanded the presence of a grand old house, one of the kind that Detroit was known for in its heyday. The inspiration stuck with her and, two years later, she found herself at a county real estate auction “with her hand up.” For $500 she purchased two houses, located side by side, on a street adjacent to a freeway and not so far from her own live/work studio. That, in her own words, was when “sh+t got real.”

There is a lovely symmetry to the plans for the Flower House. An abandoned, ruined home was filled with flowers, made beautiful once again before facing its final demise.

One year, an Indiegogo campaign and a whole lot of planning later, the Flower House burst into bloom. The project was brought to life by a group of 37 floral artists, was visited by hundreds and was seen by thousands more through social media. Over 100,000 blooms filled 17 rooms; flower-filled tubs and toilets flowed from every bathroom, a 50s kitchen cabinet—trimmed in red and left behind—was stuffed full of coordinated flowers and vegetables. A dining room table grew out of a centerpiece of blooms, mosses and branches that reached from floor to ceiling and featured a self-contained water feature fed by a 50 gallon drum that had been sunk into the ground beneath the floorboards and filled with water.

FH_ExteriorUrban Wall Paper
Exterior urban wall paper at the Flower House.
FH_Katoi Food Truck
Katoi food truck at the Flower House.

From front porch to back stoop, warped floorboard to cracked ceiling, the Flower House was spectacular. Ticketed visitors were admitted in 20-minute intervals and encouraged to post their photographs using the hashtag #flowerhousedetroit. I came to the house straight from another kind of installation: a Greening of Detroit tree planting, where 85 new trees were planted on a nearby street. When I arrived, the whole street was bustling – no doubt with more activity than it had seen in years. The sidewalk was flanked with buckets of blooms and inspired visitors were encouraged to design bouquets of their own after exiting the house. A food truck was on site and visitors were queued up and gazing at the rear façade of the house, which had been covered with “Wild Floral Graffiti” reminiscent of exterior urban wall paper. On entering, visitors’ senses were engaged immediately. There was the happy hum of cameras clicking and visitors alternately whispering in awe and exclaiming with surprise, “Amazing!” “So beautiful.” “I might cry.” The smell was incredible – it was the rich warm smell of earth and fading flowers and long golden grass warmed by late summer sun. The colors were so rich, and the textures so varied, that it was impossible not to reach out over and over again, to confirm that everything was real. In room after room, the decay of a long vacancy was buoyed up by rafts of flowers arranged in the most amazing configurations of color and pattern and motion. “A Floral Whirlwind” spun in an upstairs bedroom, while another bedroom featured the bed that every little princess dreams about, strewn with flowers and bowered with an astonishing daisy chain. In the living room, the seat of a chair burst through with hundreds of stems. Every crack in the foundation, every wall where lath showed through ruined plaster, every hole where a fixture once hung, featured, for one weekend, something alive, and beautiful, and inspiring.

FH_Kitchen Cabinet
A kitchen cabinet in the Flower House.
FH_Kitchen
The kitchen at the Flower House.
FH_LivingRoom
The living room at the Flower House.

And then, it was over.

The Flower House was designed to last only a single glorious weekend. The web resounded with the anguished cries of those who didn’t get tickets to the sold-out spectacle. But the best may just be yet to come. Lisa Waud and her partners in the Flower House are committed to the Slow Flower movement,  which advocates for propagation and use of locally grown and seasonal blooms.  One of the most delightful aspects of the Flower House was that it made room for local flowers.  During installation, local flower farmers dropped off buckets of blooms to be added to the house, contributing to the unique character of the project.  This generosity is a hallmark of Detroit’s community of growers, and it was a most appropriate way to welcome Lisa to the fold, given her plans for the future. There is a lovely symmetry to the plans for the Flower House. An abandoned, ruined home was filled with flowers, made beautiful once again before facing its final demise. The installation, designed to be fleeting, was then dismantled and composted – 100,000 blooms returned to the soil. Next, the house will be deconstructed. At least 75 percent of the raw materials will be recycled for other projects by Reclaim Detroit, a program of the Detroit non-profit EcoWorks. And finally, the site will once again be made beautiful with flowers, this time as the site of a flower farm, growing blooms that will be used in more wonderful pot + box productions.

FH_Toilette
Toilette at the Flower House.
FH_Kitchen Plumbing 2
Kitchen plumbing at the Flower House.

Detroit can’t wait to see what grows next.

Rebecca Salminen Witt
Detroit

On The Nature of Cities

How the White House Went Green: The Environmental Legacy of President Lyndon B. Johnson and Lady Bird Johnson

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

Which American president administration of the last century has the strongest record on preserving the environment and natural beauty? Presidents Theodore or Franklin Roosevelt, who created the National Wildlife Refuge System (protecting 230 million acres) and established the Civilian Conservation Corps, putting 2.5 million people to work building trails and planting trees, respectively? President Kennedy, who created the Cape Cod National Seashore? President Nixon, who signed the Clean Air Act and created the EPA? President Obama, who has led international efforts to address climate change?

Or was it the president who hosted a White House Conference on Natural Beauty, and spoke stirringly on the importance of a clean environment in his first State of the Union message?

CCC - Camp Roosevelt
Civilian Conservation Corps – Camp Roosevelt, Camp No. 1. Image: Everett Collection

In fact, the U.S. president with the strongest environmental track record (particularly focused on land conservation and the protection of natural beauty) is President Lyndon B. Johnson, who—alongside his activist first lady, Lady Bird Johnson—signed more than 300 conservation measures into law, establishing the legal foundations for how we protect the nation’s land, water and air.

What would President and Mrs. Johnson think now, as partisan politics and fringe political movements in the U.S. work to strip environmental legislation of its power?

Growing up in the 1960s, I found President Johnson to be a larger-than-life figure. Unfortunately, I associated him primarily with the start and the growth of the Vietnam War, a quagmire which grew deeper throughout his administration. But recently, and particularly with the 50th anniversary of his signing of the Highway Beautification Act (known derisively at first as “Lady Bird’s Law”) on October 22, my appreciation for the environmental legacy of President and first lady Johnson has deepened.

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President Johnson signing the Highway Beautification Act. Image: White House Photo Office Collection

Lyndon Baines Johnson, or LBJ, was vice president under President John F. Kennedy, following a long career in Texas state politics and both houses of the U.S. Congress. He became president after Kennedy was assassinated on Nov. 22, 1963. He, his wife and two daughters moved into the White House soon thereafter, and he was elected president in November 1964.

President Johnson’s wife, born Claudia Alta Taylor in 1912 and nicknamed “Lady Bird” by her nanny, had spent much of her childhood in the meadows and woodlands of Karnack, Texas. She attended and graduated from both St. Mary’s College at Dallas and the University of Texas at Austin. She and the future president met and were married in 1934.

There is a lot of speculation as to why President and Lady Bird Johnson were so keenly interested in the environment and natural beauty; some think it is rooted in Mrs. Johnson’s loss of her mother at a very young age, after which she found solace in the flowers and plants around her childhood home. President Johnson—who led the passage of groundbreaking civil rights legislation and many other significant domestic policy acts of the “Great Society”—fully acknowledged his wife’s role as instigator of, and inspiration and advocate for much of his environmental legislation.

President Johnson’s environmental track record was established early. Just one year after being sworn in as president aboard Air Force One, he conveyed a strong and prescient philosophy towards the importance of a clean and improved environment in his State of the Union Address, in January 1965:

The Beauty of America

“For over three centuries the beauty of America has sustained our spirit and has enlarged our vision. We must act now to protect this heritage. In a fruitful new partnership with the States and the cities the next decade should be a conservation milestone. We must make a massive effort to save the countryside and to establish—as a green legacy for tomorrow—more large and small parks, more seashores and open spaces than have been created during any other period in our national history. A new and substantial effort must be made to landscape highways to provide places of relaxation and recreation wherever our roads run.

Within our cities imaginative programs are needed to landscape streets and to transform open areas into places of beauty and recreation.

We will seek legal power to prevent pollution of our air and water before it happens. We will step up our effort to control harmful wastes, giving first priority to the cleanup of our most contaminated rivers. We will increase research to learn much more about the control of pollution.

We hope to make the Potomac a model of beauty here in the Capital, and preserve unspoiled stretches of some of our waterways with a Wild Rivers bill.

More ideas for a beautiful America will emerge from a White House Conference on Natural Beauty which I will soon call.”

Less than two months later, at the urging of his wife and aides—including Nash Castro, White House liaison and deputy regional director of the National Capital Parks for the National Park Service—President Johnson and volunteer Chairman, Laurance S. Rockefeller, convened an unprecedented and never-imitated “White House Conference on Natural Beauty.” More than 800 people attended the two-day conference, held in late May. Castro, now 96, remembers the conference was so large they planned to hold it on the White House South Lawn. However, as Castro recalled in a recent phone interview, “the heavens opened up and we had to squeeze 800 people indoors—President Johnson stood at the door like a shepherd, herding the guests, saying ‘Come on in—hurry up.’ ”

Recently, the nonprofit organization Scenic America hosted a two-day event in Washington, heralding the accomplishments of Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson and Laurance Rockefeller. In a draft report (discussed below), they note “The Governors of 35 states subsequently [to the 1965 White House Conference] convened statewide natural beauty conferences. A wave of citizen action followed, dedicated to neighborhood improvement, protection of the countryside and preservation of historic sites.”

The conference was both preceded by and paved the way for many legislative and executive accomplishments, foremost among them the Highway Beautification Act, the Land and Water Conservation Fund (which uses offshore oil and gas leases instead of taxes as a funding source), the Clean Water Act, the Wilderness Act, the Endangered Species Act, the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act and many more, including the creation of 47 new national parks.

Lady Bird Johnson first became known for the beautification of Washington via the Committee for a More Beautiful Capital, which she formed in 1964 with the help of philanthropist Mary Lasker; Washington Post publisher Katherine Graham; philanthropist Brooke Astor; Assistant Secretary of State Kathleen Louchheim; architects Nathaniel Owings and Edward Durell Stone; Laurance S.Rockefeller and other donors. Castro can still recite the precise accomplishments: I million daffodils planted throughout the city; 10,000 azaleas planted on Pennsylvania Ave; 1,000 dogwoods and a large portion of the cherry trees on Hains Point (part of a total of 3,800 cherry trees planted by 1965, which compose the annual, festive cherry blossom splendor for which the capitol is now known).

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Lady Bird Johnson and two young people standing among blooming white azaleas. Image: LBJ Library/ Robert Knudsen
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Lady Bird Johnson plants pansies as Sec. Stewart Udall and others look on. Image: LBJ Library/ Robert Knudsen

Lady Bird Johnson’s best-known accomplishment may be the Highway Beautification Act, a piece of legislation her husband fought for and which was mockingly referred to by Senator Bob Dole as “Lady Bird’s Law.” Castro and others recall how President Johnson promised a dinner and reception at the State Department, featuring a cameo from actor Fredric March. Despite Republican objections, the bill was finally passed, and the Congress got their promised reception very late at night.

Beyond the Washington political intrigue and drama worthy of a “House of Cards” episode, the Highway Beautification Act, though watered down somewhat by the billboard industry, led to the control of outdoor advertising, the removal of certain types of signs along the interstate highways, and the removal or screening of junkyards. It also encouraged scenic enhancement, which led to the requirement that a certain percentage of federal funds on highway projects be used for planting native flowers, plants and trees. Never resting on her laurels (or her azaleas), Mrs. Johnson made forays out to the national parks across the country on at least 11 separate trips, often with Castro and the media in tow, calling attention to the need to conserve, protect and enhance natural beauty.

Lady Bird at California Scenic Highway 1
Lady Bird Johnson dedicates California’s Highway 1 as the country’s first scenic highway. Image: LBJ Library/ Robert Knudsen

What drove Lady Bird Johnson in her mission to beautify an entire nation, from hardscrabble inner-city neighborhoods to vast national parks and highway systems?

Warrie Price, a very close family friend to the Johnson family (and roommate to first daughter, Lynda Johnson Robb, while they were freshmen at the University of Texas), recalls that natural beauty and plant life was “part of [Lady Bird Johnson’s] DNA as a child in Karnack…Outdoor life was her companion, partner, best friend.” According to Price, the “tragic ascension“ to the White House “put [Lady Bird Johnson] in a place where she decided that she would be a ‘doer’ nationally.” (Interestingly, Price herself went on to move to New York City from her home in San Antonio, where she also became a “doer” and led the creation of The Battery Conservancy, whose features include a spectacular perennial wild garden. Fellow San Antonians Elizabeth Barlow Rogers and Robert Hammond would create the Central Park Conservancy and Friends of the High Line—both urban repositories of great natural beauty—respectively. This prompts one to ask: What was in the water in San Antonio?

At the conclusion of the Johnson administration in 1968, the president presented his wife with a plaque adorned with 50 pens used to sign 50 laws related to natural beauty and conservation, and inscribed: “To Lady Bird, who has inspired me and millions of Americans to try to preserve our land and beautify our nation. With Love from Lyndon.”

After leaving the White House, Mrs. Johnson focused on Texas, leading the creation of a 10-mile trail around Town Lake in Austin (later renamed Lady Bird Lake) and promoting the beautification of Texas highways by awarding prizes for the best use of native Texas plants to enhance scenery. Her culminating action on behalf of nature was the creation of the National Wildflower Research Center in 1982, the year she turned 70. The Center, later moved to a new location in the Hill Country southwest of Austin, opened in 1995 as the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. The world-renowned organization, now spread across more than 279 acres, has more than 700 plant species on display and provides programs for adults and children. Alongside the American Society of Landscape Architects, the center also played a lead role in the development of the “Sustainable Sites” program, a rating system for sustainable landscape design similar to LEED for architecture.

So what would President and Mrs. Johnson think now, as partisan politics and fringe political movements work to strip environmental legislation of its power, to sell off federal lands for profit and exploitation, and to hold hostage the renewal of the Land and Water Conservation Fund, which expired in September 2015 due to Congressional inaction?

Happily and hopefully, the environmental legacy and passion for public-private partnerships between citizens and government continues to inspire citizens and nonprofit groups. On the occasion of the 50th anniversary of both the White House Conference on Natural Beauty and the Highway Beautification Act, Scenic America convened a conference and is working on a plan whose recommendations include increasing funding for the Land and Water Conservation Fund; establishing a national inventory of parks and open spaces; restoring the defunct National Scenic Byways Program; undergrounding overhead wires; and enacting federal and state legislation to prohibit the removal of trees to increase billboard visibility, among many conservation-oriented action plans. Other major groups, including The Trust for Public Land and The Nature Conservancy, are working as a coalition to press Congress to reauthorize and fully fund the Land and Water Conservation Fund. And as we all travel on highways and enjoy beautiful views of fields of wildflowers, we can remember with appreciation a White House that cared passionately about native plants, vibrant parks, a clean and healthy environment, and the values of natural beauty.

Scenic America Photo 1 - second version
Before and after tree cutting on Interstate 95 in Jacksonville, Fla. Image: Scenic America
Scenic America Photo 2
Billboards along an otherwise scenic I-85 in Georgia allowed because of a nearby business. Image: Scenic America

Adrian Benepe
New York City

On The Nature of Cities

Singapore’s Life in the Trees

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

Roadside trees are not merely roadside trees. Roadside trees are living condominiums, packed with other organisms. They are functioning communities, complete with food chains, predators and prey, nutrient capture, nutrient cycling and recycling, and an organisational hierarchy. They extend their influence vertically upwards, horizontally and downwards. They are ecosystems in their own right.

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Roadside trees in Singapore.

Naturalists who have access to the riches of the true forest tend to be rather dismissive of the tree community along roadsides. It is a community that is obviously impoverished, consisting of a few hardy, widespread species that are not threatened, and do not need conservation assistance. Yet where would we be without those roadside trees? Biologically, a lot poorer. One of the extraordinary features of Singapore, for a visitor from other cities in the region, is the sound of Hill Mynas and Racket-tailed Drongos in suburban gardens; the sight of Honey Buzzards in trees along the main shopping street of the business district; or roosts of Long-tailed Parakeets close by one of the busy railway stations. The Mynas and the Parakeets are birds of the primary lowland rain forest, where they live in the tree canopy. Elsewhere in the region they have often been trapped out by the caged bird trade, or have simply found the vegetation within cities impossible to use as habitat. In Singapore, these birds find plenty of tall trees and they really don’t care that much what happens on the ground beneath them, whether it involves a pedestrian walkway or a group of joggers. What they need is the fruits in the canopy, and in Singapore, what they need is what they get.

In the rain forest, of course, everyone knows about complexity, hierarchies, interactions, communities and guilds. But the same is also true of the trees planted out in the urban environment, except that they have received less attention from community ecologists.
Bringing the trees to our roadsides

In the good old days of traditional biology teaching, final year students taking their ‘spot’ quiz at the National University of Singapore would inevitably be faced with one small, featureless, orange-green organism. Some years it would be presented by the examiner as a dry powder, sometimes as a liquid sludge, or occasionally attached to its natural substrate on tree bark. This is Trentepohlia, a genus of 36 species of chlorophyte algae. It grows on the bark of many roadside trees in Singapore as an orange scurf, and on the trunks and foliage of trees in the rain forest. It is also one of the algae known to form symbiotic associations with fungi, i.e., lichens. As species of algae and species of fungi combine to form further species of lichens, this becomes an interesting case in which the total diversity is greater than the sum of its parts.

In Singapore there are roughly 2.9 million roadside trees, planted by the National Parks Board and the town councils and tracked and managed individually along the nation’s 6,000 kilometers of roads. In a tiny city state, a high density of roads is inevitable, and the road surfaces together with the planted road reserves and central dividers make up about 12 percent of all land.

These managed trees are made up of some 600 species; this means that planted tree alpha diversity (simply, the absolute number of species present) is not far off the tree diversity of the rain forest in our nature reserves, where there are roughly 2,145 native plant species, of which roughly 700 are trees. In the rain forest, of course, everyone knows about complexity, hierarchies, interactions, communities and guilds. But the same is also true of the trees planted out in the urban environment, except that they have received less attention from community ecologists.

Trees as fundamental building blocks

Singapore has been pursuing the idea of a garden city since 1965, a concept that has now been tweaked to become “A City in a Garden.” Until the 1970s, tree species were chosen mostly for providing shade. Another layer of consideration was added from 1979 onwards, with species chosen for the colour of their flowers and variety of foliage. To these have been added considerations of maintenance, suitability for birds and butterflies, avoidance of unsightliness or risk (for example, slippery fruits falling on public walkways), and structure. Roadside plantings no longer consist only of trees, but include shrubs, palms, subcanopy trees and emergent trees to make a complex 3-D green environment. This extends upwards (to rooftop and vertical greenery), inwards (to indoor planting, with examples in Changi Airport and in offices in the central business district), and downwards (for example, beneath flyovers).

At one time cleanliness and neatness were prized, manicured vegetation was the order of the day, and that meant epiphytes – plants growing on other plants – were unwelcome. That situation began to change with the deliberate strapping onto branches of selected ferns, notably Birds-nest Ferns, Asplenium nidus. With that step, it was no longer normal practice to discourage epiphytes, and other species began to proliferate simply because they were undisturbed. The high rainfall in Singapore (around 2,400 millimeters per annum) and typically high humidity helped these species to thrive.

Pigeon Orchid IMG_2098
Pigeon Orchid.

Another major internal management change was the orchid conservation plan of the National Parks Board that has reintroduced thousands of native orchids onto trees. Whether they are self-propagating clones or not, orchids around the city tend to flower in synchrony: the Pigeon Orchid, Dendrobium crumenatum, is a classic case in which mass flowering occurs nine days after a critical low temperature night. Bulbophyllum vaginatum is another gregarious flowering orchid whose blossoms can light up the boughs of an entire row of trees.

The trees that epiphytes inhabit have been termed “phorophytes” (plant-bearers), and their inhabitants include epiphytes, hemi-epiphytes, climbers and epiphylls. But this is only the beginning of complexity. Within the trees are wood-borers and creatures living beneath the bark. Spotted Wood Owls use the Birds-nest Ferns as nesting sites (these ferns are truly named); ants form colonies amongst the ferns’ spongy root-mass and forage throughout the tree while tending aphids and scale insects. Within the tree, a cavity provides a niche for fungi, nematodes, bats, beetles and small centipedes, woodlice, termites, ants and colonies of bees and wasps. In the leaves of the tree are leaf-miners, in the shoots are viruses causing ‘witches broom,’ and on the twigs are galls.

Below ground, mycorrhizal associations between tree roots and fungi are hidden until a rainy spell encourages a mass appearance of mushrooms beneath the tree. Might a first estimate be one species of fungus per species of tree? Mulching of trees might introduce fungi other than the mycorrhizae.

Then we have the pollinators and nectar feeders – birds, bees, butterflies and bats. Fruits are being eaten and dispersed by a range of vertebrates. Inside figs, fig wasps are completing their frantic lives. Even before they have dropped from the tree, fermentation of overripe fruits has been initiated by bacteria and additional fungi. Above a flowering Alstonia tree, a swarm of tiny flying invertebrates attracts a feeding flock of swiftlets. The swiftlets and the nesting owls have specialised internal and external parasites, some of them unique. The termites parading up and down the trunk are bringing in yet more organisms, and carry their own specialised intestinal flora that helps break down cellulose. The levels of diversity go on and on.

Bulbophyllum vaginatum (5)
Bulbophyllum vaginatum, a flowering orchid.

Such a diversity of life dependent on trees has been known and studied everywhere that trees grow – but usually not on roadside trees in cities. In Washington state, west of the Cascade Mountains, Richard Pederson (1991) (of the US Forest Service) found that 39 species of birds and 14 species of mammals depend on tree cavities for their survival. East of the Cascades, 39 bird species and 23 mammal species depend on these ‘snags.’ Pederson (1991) and Bottorff (2005), of Washington State University, found that in total, more than 100 species of birds, mammals, reptiles and amphibians need snags for nesting, roosting, shelter, denning and feeding (45 species alone forage for food in such trees). In North America, hollow snags and large knotholes are used by many species of mammals, such as squirrels, martens, porcupine and raccoons.

Zack, George and Laudenslayer (2002) compared the density of snags, snags formed into cavities, and cavity-nesting bird use at two sites in northern California – one site with large trees and large snags because of protection from logging, and the other where a century of logging had left few large trees and snags. Total snags were three times more numerous in the protected forest, and use of cavities by nesting birds was 15 times greater (2002). Clearly, roadside trees, whether in North America or in Singapore, cannot be allowed to grow in so unregulated a way that snags and cavities reach a maximum. Public safety is a major driver of roadside tree management. Yet the diversity in Singapore proves that even regularly pruned and managed trees can support a high number of epiphytes, and that these are the foundation of a complex plant and animal community.

The diversity of trees, with differing shapes and bark textures, helps to support high diversity of epiphytes. In a geometric progression, the epiphytes then provide multiple niches within living and decaying tissue, roots and leaves, for the huge range of fungi, insects, birds, butterflies, and other organisms in the city. If the community is fractured by the removal of epiphytes, many other organisms suffer. Once epiphytes are tolerated or, even better, encouraged, the community flourishes.

What are the epiphytes?

In a recent study, student Ng Qi Qi (2015) from the National University of Singapore surveyed more than 12,000 trees of 306 species and found 81 species of epiphytes growing on them. The top 17 species of epiphytes (in the broadest sense) were:

Ferns

Pyrrosia piloselloides
Davallia denticulata
Asplenium nidus
Pyrrosia longifolia
Vittaria ensiformis
Drynaria quercifolia

Mistletoes

Dendrophthoe pentandra
Macrosolen cochinchinensis

Climbers

Passiflora suberosa
Epipremnum aureum
Mikania micrantha
Paederia foetida
Epipremnum pinnatum
Tetracera indica

Orchids

Dendrobium crumenatum
Grammatophyllym speciosum
Cymbidium finlaysonianum

Some of the biggest epiphytic surprises in Singapore are examples of plants that really shouldn’t be epiphytes at all. Oil palm (Elaeis guineensis) and banana (Musa esculenta) have been seen growing where they were never designed to be, probably distributed by birds or civets. Dragon fruits (Hylocereus undatus and H. polyrhizus) are also a visual surprise.

The roadside tree in Singapore most often bearing at least one species of epiphyte is Albizia saman, followed by Tabebuia rosea and Pterocarpus indicus. Phorophyte species with reticulate or longitudinally fissured bark have a higher proportion of trees with at least one epiphyte found on them. Rough bark seems to be more favourable for supporting the formation of epiphyte communities; intuitively, irregularities in bark provide niches for seeds to lodge, for roots to penetrate, and for nutrients and moisture to gather. The three species of trees mentioned can therefore be seen as keystone species in supporting a roadside epiphyte community: not only the presence of trees, but the selection of suitable trees is important.

It is common to find many different species of epiphytes on a single tree species, and even on a single individual tree. However, Zotz and Heitz (2001) have suggested that, unlike in other plant communities, challenges such as interspecific competition and herbivory do not seem to be an issue for epiphytes. This means that the epiphyte community, including that on roadside trees, functions in somewhat different ways from the biological community within forest. It is therefore of intrinsic scientific interest. Some factors that influence the structure of epiphyte communities include the size of the supporting tree, its bark type, and water availability. In the Americas, Gentry and Dobson (1987) found that wet forest had an epiphyte diversity 500 times greater than that of dry forest. They compared this with the diversity of herbs and lianas, which were only twice as diverse in wet forest as they were in dry forest (where the epiphytes were mostly orchids and bromeliads).  The epiphyte community on roadside trees should be of interest and concern because of the relative exposure of roadside trees to open, drying conditions as well as vehicle emissions and urban heat island effects.

Root fungi 131120141765
Root fungi.

Concerns for the future

Singapore, like other countries in Southeast Asia, is vulnerable to the prolonged droughts initiated by El Niño years. These place huge stress on epiphytes and the living communities they support. In the same Singapore study mentioned above, Ng Qi Qi found that during the February 2014 drought, Vittaria ensiformis was the species most vulnerable to death by drought, followed by the poorly adapted climbing herbs Passiflora suberosa and Paederia foetida (study year). Orchids have adaptations to resist drought, such as pseudobulbs and large root masses: the two large orchids Grammatophyllum speciosum and Cymbidium finlaysonianum came through the 2014 drought successfully.

Morphology and water stress adaptations are likely to be the reasons behind the different extirpation rates of these plants during drought (Ng 2015), while the type of tree they were growing on did not seem to have much effect. The size of the supporting tree also did not seem to have an impact on the survival rate of epiphytes during drought, except for one of the mistletoes.

Nevertheless, microclimate will continue to be a concern, and 3-D planting in place of serried ranks of military roadside trees is likely to be a factor in maintaining humidity and buffering drying winds. Pruning, removal of risky branches, and repairs to wind-created snags as a result of branch snapping, will all have to be considered.

Now, back to the students’ infamous Trentepohlia. For any student who bothered to talk to seniors, this was actually a shoo-in question. But perhaps students should not have taken the identification too literally. A study of lichens and green algae on bark of trees within two tiny patches of Singapore’s rain forests (Neustupa and Skaloud, 2010) has revealed at least 57 species, not one of which was in the genus Trentepohlia! Most of them could not be identified beyond the level of genus. In all likelihood, there are plenty more algae and lichens out there to be identified. And this is not just an abstruse and pointless exercise. Trentepohlia odorata is one of the commonest algae growing on the external walls of buildings in Singapore, responsible for significant costs in building maintenance and redecoration.

To repeat the message with which we started: roadside trees are living condominiums, packed with other organisms. They are functioning ecosystems, with food chains, predators and prey, nutrient capture, nutrient cycling and recycling, and an organisational hierarchy. Where would we be without those roadside trees? Biologically, we would be a lot poorer.

Geoffrey Davison and Lena Chan
Singapore

On The Nature of Cities

References

Bottorff, J. 2005. Snags, coarse woody debris, and wildlife. Snohomish Co. Extension Service, Washington State University. http://snohomish.wsu.edu/forestry/documents/SNAGS.pdf

Gentry, A.H. and Dodson, C.H. 1987. Diversity and biogeography of Neotropical vascular epiphytes. Annals of the Missouri Botanical Garden, 74: 205–233.

Neustupa, J. and Skaloud, P. 2010. Diversity of subaerial algae and cyanobacteria growing on bark and wood in the lowland tropical forests of Singapore. Plant Ecology and Evolution, 143: 51–62.

Ng, Q.Q. 2015. Effects of drought on vascular plant epiphytes in Singapore. Thesis, B.Env.Sci., Dept. of Biological Sciences, National University of Singapore.

Pederson, Richard J. 1991. Managing Small Woodlands for Cavity Nesting Birds. USDA Forest Service, Pacific NW Region. 6 pages. http://www.woodlandfishandwildlife.org/

Zack, S., George, T.L. and Laudenslayer, Jr., W.F. 2002. Are there snags in the system? Comparing cavity use among nesting birds in “snag-rich” and “snag-poor” Eastside pine forests.  USDA Forest Service Gen. Tech. Rep. PSW-GTR-181. Pp. 179–191.

Zotz, G. and Hietz, P. 2001. The physiological ecology of vascular epiphytes: current knowledge, open questions. Journal of Experimental Botany, 52: 2067–2078

Granny Flats and a Sponge House: Rethinking Necessities for the Future of Communities Along the Los Angeles River

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of “Shelter,” an exhibition on view at the Architecture and Design Museum Los Angeles until Nov. 6, 2015.

Although recent efforts to mitigate the characteristic poor air quality and largely suburban character of Los Angeles have been the focus of much debate and action, the city still faces a rash of issues today, including an increasingly severe drought and a recent “state of emergency” declared over issues with homelessness. With few existing opportunities to truly rethink its built and natural environment, the city has been fixated on the Los Angeles River as a project that could revitalize urban public space, offering a chance to “rebrand” what it means to live in Los Angeles.

Model
Axonometric drawing of the Elysian Valley (WATERshed by LOHA). Image courtesy of LOHA.

Though history of human settlement on the Los Angeles River dates back to Native American settlements in 5,000 B.C.E., a project to pave over the riverbanks began in 1938, with the intention of preventing erratic and dangerous flooding events. Los Angeles’s desert-like climate, characterized by periods of dry weather with occasional torrential downpours, combined with poorly planned communities that were built in the river’s floodplains, led to the decision to channelize the river, replacing streams and wetlands (a natural system of flood control) with 51 miles of engineered waterway.

The future of Los Angeles depends on creative design solutions to resolve issues of affordable housing and water-stressed conditions.

However, the tides have turned in recent decades as advocacy groups have insisted the river be returned to a more natural state, issuing various proposals for restoration and urban green space projects – one of which was the focus of a 2014 TNOC essay, “The Emerald Necklace.” In response to these calls, the city formed the Ad Hoc Committee on the Los Angeles River in 2002 and released the Los Angeles River Revitalization Master Plan in 2007. The 2007 Master Plan anticipates that the project will improve aesthetics, enrich quality of life, and sustain the economy of the region. Following the announcement of this plan, many designers and planners continued to contemplate their own visions for this major hydrological and ecological undertaking. And now, a plan created by renowned architect, Frank Gehry, is in progress, though further information surrounding this commission is being kept under wraps.

Shelter, the latest exhibition at the Architecture and Design Museum Los Angeles, does not hesitate to provide additional perspectives on the Los Angeles River revitalization project. The exhibition displays a collection of proposals from six LA-based design firms which reconsider the future of ‘shelter’ in the Los Angeles River and Wilshire Corridor regions of the city. Curators Sam Lubell and Danielle Rago commissioned these proposals, which range from Late Modernist high-rises to community-owned low-rise housing densification models.

WATERshed — re-thinking the role of a river

WATERshed,” a proposal put forth by Lorcan O’Herlihy Architects (LOHA), allows viewers to reconsider the capacity of architecture to alleviate conditions of a water-stressed environment. Thoroughly relevant to the current extreme conditions in California, LOHA has created a series of “plug-in interventions that address specific underperforming and absent functions of the water cycle” within the Elysian Valley, a community located alongside the Los Angeles River. WATERshed aims to revitalize the entire system that feeds into the river through the combination of nuanced water management systems and urbanized public spaces. Design solutions range from residential structures swathed in a “sponge filtration system” to the Los Angeles River Bridge Cap, which combines oblong tent-shaped community wells and filtration systems with public space that connects both sides of the river.

The conical, organic and sometimes-outlandish geometries proposed in WATERshed were devised from a study of the existing open space between single-family homes in the region, emphasizing a key aim of this project: designing a functionality specific to the site’s environmental and social context. As its name implies, this proposal expands the parameters of the Los Angeles River revitalization project beyond the banks of the river and towards a more holistic approach that encompasses the hydrological relationships within the entire watershed.

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The Los Angeles River Bridge Cap (WATERshed by LOHA). Image courtesy of Hunter Kerhart.

According to the architects, “recycled urban stormwater and increased efficiency could meet 82% of LA’s water needs,” but because of outdated land use policies and infrastructure, opportunities for capture and filtration during sporadic downpours are limited. This identified gap in the current water system of the Elysian Valley provides an opportunity to reconsider our relationship to water within urban areas, particularly when desertification is predicted for the future. Though extreme in both its aesthetic and engineering, LOHA’s proposal shows us what the future of urban ecology could look like in a world of unprecedented water scarcity, pushing past superficial beautification efforts towards the creation of a public space for utility and localized resource management.

Amid all the talk about revitalizing the Los Angeles River, worries have arisen over the social cost of this restoration. The novelty of new public green space, paired with corporate-led redevelopment, would most likely catalyze gentrification in previously affordable areas. This looming eco-gentrification, or gentrification caused by urban ecological restoration projects, has previously instigated unintended effects for projects such as the High Line in New York City. Eco-gentrification poses an unfortunate design flaw – instead of improving quality of life for local urban residents, projects plagued by eco-gentrification price out many community members, depriving them of the esteemed wellness that urban green space can bring. Lower-income communities have long been the ones to suffer the health and social consequences of industrial urbanization, and are often the last to benefit from large-scale urban greening projects.

LA-Más — a community-based approach

While many of the proposals for the revitalization of the Los Angeles River promise optimistic visions of serenity and interaction with nature, few truly consider the socio-ecological impacts this project will have. LA-Más, an architectural and urban design non-profit, addresses this issue through their contribution to Shelter: “Backyard Basics: An Alternative Story for the Accessory Dwelling Unit.” A product of ongoing research and community engagement, the group’s work includes design drawings, a wireframe model, and the Futuro De Frogtown publication. The proposal addresses the inherent necessity of community-led redevelopment and affordable housing to enhance social and environmental sustainability within the Elysian Valley.

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Wireframe model representing an ADU (Backyard Basics: An Alternative Story for the Accessory Dwelling Unit by LA-Más). Image courtesy of LA-Más.

LA-Más led a five-month co-visioning process with community residents of the Elysian Valley (also known as Frogtown) to better understand the values and priorities held within the existing neighborhood. The ideas discussed during interviews, advisory groups and workshops made clear the disparities caused by corporate-led redevelopment, characterized by high-density apartment blocks with higher-level price tags. Rather than enhancing the quality of life and providing access to the river’s proposed green space for Frogtown’s existing community, this type of redevelopment would create an entirely new community with an increased cost of living. Frogtown residents wanted to preserve the physical and social qualities of their neighborhood, but were open to ideas of adaptive reuse. The solution proposed by LA-Más to counter eco-gentrification is a “granny flat” renaissance.

Accessory Dwelling Units, also called ADUs or granny flats, are compact dwellings that are typically built in the backyards of single-family homes. ADUs allow for low-rise, but high-density, development that is privately owned and, generally, better embedded into the existing community. Increasing the amount of ADUs in the Elysian Valley would be a compromise of sorts, allowing for densification without drastically changing the visual and social character of the neighborhood.

By adapting community-based modes of thinking and typologies to the climate and culture of Los Angeles, which has long valued private over communal or shared property, this re-visioning of ADUs offers a glance into the preferences of local residents for the future of redevelopment schemes. By offering the community a voice, LA-Más has uncovered a design model that would maintain the affordability of this neighborhood, allowing the existing community members to benefit from the restoration of the Los Angeles River and forgoing the classist divide between “green” and “contaminated” areas of a city. This proposal acknowledges the importance of biodiversity within an urban context, including a diversity of people as an integral part of this formula.

IMG-4
Architectural model showing a proposed ADU corridor (Backyard Basics: An Alternative Story for the Accessory Dwelling Unit by LA-Más). Image courtesy of LA-Más.

The future of Los Angeles depends on creative design solutions to resolve issues of affordable housing and water-stressed conditions. Though the word is basic in its connotation, Shelter gathers many of the missing pieces from the Los Angeles River revitalization equation, proving the possibility of a more resilient ecological and social future for this region. It is clear that there is a need to provide equitable access to environmentally healthy communities, a balance that needs to be achieved to ensure the social and ecological resilience of the communities adjacent to the Los Angeles River.

Listening to the residents of Frogtown, and many of the other communities that will be affected by the revitalization project, can help identify the ecology of people existing within these areas. Though many of the proposals gathered in Shelter are multiple stages away from the reality of construction and planning, the groundedness of these ideas in their context, specifically within the work of LA-Más, suggests that tides are shifting for Los Angeles’s forthcoming reincarnation.

Los Angeles has often been put on a pedestal as a leader in domestic architecture, and America’s model homes may soon mirror the ecologically sound and socially sustainable housing examples seen in Shelter. But architects and planners must remember – a “home” is more than a physical dwelling: it is the community that surrounds it.

More information about the Shelter exhibition and its participants can be found at https://aplusd.org/exhibitions-current.

Further reading: 

The Nature of Cities hosted a Global Roundtable in 2014, gathering thoughts on the social justice implications of urban ecology. Read this discussion here

Allison Palenske
San Diego

On The Nature of Cities

A Collaborative Project in City Planning for Urban Biodiversity in Japan

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

From 2014, we have been taking part in a project in city planning for urban biodiversity in Fukutsu city, Japan. Our lab (Keitaro Ito laboratory, Kyushu Institute of Technology) has been directing the project in collaboration with Fukutsu city and high school students from Fukuoka Koryo high school and Fukuoka fishery high school. The project’s origins result from the city government’s desire to make environmental planning part of the basic city planning, resting on the ecological characteristics of the city. They asked us to collaborate in this planning.

The site

Fukutsu city is located in the southern part of Japan. The land area of the city is 52 km2 and the population is 58,000. The city has coastal area to the west and is hilly to the east. In the tidal areas, we can find designated endangered species such as Horseshoe crab. In wintertime, migrating birds (such as Black-faced spoonbill) stay for several months around the coast and in paddy fields. There is a fishport at the sea coast where we have extensive ecological system services. Japanese people, especially the local people around here, they like fish for eating. (I usually eat vegetables and like fish for observing…) Anyway, if we lost Fukutsu’s beautiful environment, nobody would get receive the benefits of ecosystem services, such as fish.

For example, Horseshoe crab (Tachypleus tridentatus), Black-faced spoonbill (Platalea minor), and Loggerhead turtle (Caretta caretta ) are thought of as icons of this area of nature, and the existence of these species is an index of nature’s richness and biodiversity. They were classified as an endangered species and they choose the area for their habitat. Therefore, the city has rich biodiversity, even located beside a big city. People are living with nature.

However, the populations of these species are reported to be decreasing these days.

The city view from the hill top Photo: Keitaro ITO
The city view from the hill top Photo: Keitaro ITO
Horseshoe crab (Tachypleus tridentatus) found at low tide in. Photo: Tsuyazaki-higata
Horseshoe crab (Tachypleus tridentatus) found at low tide in. Photo: Tsuyazaki-higata
The migrating bird, Black-faced spoonbill, in winter time. Photo: Keitaro ITO
The migrating bird, Black-faced spoonbill, in winter time. Photo: Keitaro ITO

Some of the forests have big problems too, such as the expansion of bamboo.Because of the lack of maintenance of forest by people, the forested landscape around the city has changed. As the bamboo comes to dominate the forest, the forest floor is goes dark in deep shade and other biodiversity is significantly reduced.

And unfortunately, people sometimes don’t realise how the nature they live with is important. A lack of daily connection to nature has become normal for them, a situation one can easily observe in visiting local places in this country.

So, one of our important roles is this. How shall we lead the people in a return to thinking about nature in Fukutsu?

The problem of the forest, bamboo population is expanding
The problem of the forest, bamboo population is expanding

Participation 

The city environmental plan is aiming to evaluate the characteristics of the city’s nature through a collaboration with young people and local residents. We think it is very important hear the voices of younger people who are living in and loving this city.

So we conduct project meetings with city government every month and hold workshops about environmental planning with high school students and local citizens every three months. High school student participation has had an especially good effect in this project because they live in the city; sometimes the parents also take part in the workshops. In this series of workshops we continue to discuss how to plan the engagement and how to participate. Typically in Japan, the majority of the participants tend to be elderly people. But in this workshop, students from University and high school students and local residents are actively participating in roundtable discussions, in a format called “World Café.” The mixing of younger and elderly people in discussion is so interesting because we have been able to compare generational experience, discussing present day problems in relation to the environmental situation in former times .

Students making a survey in the coastal area.
Students making a survey in the coastal area.
Round table discussion, students and local residents together.
Round table discussion, students and local residents together.
Fish market: Ecological system services from the sea.
Fish market: Ecological system services from the sea.
The biotope map in the city. Credit: T. Nakamatsu, Y. Hanada and K. Ito
The biotope map in the city. Credit: T. Nakamatsu, Y. Hanada and K. Ito

Analysis and the plan

Now, we are trying to evaluate the present condition of the natural and city environment by using GIS and a field survey. Through this survey, we made a biotope map for preserving the nature in the city that includes, for example, important places for habitat and biodiversity in the city. There are various types of biotopes included in the map, such as forest, river, ponds for irrigation for the paddy fields and coast.

We are aiming to evaluate each biotope for habitat and also people’s activity, because many of the natural elements are preserved alongside human activity, such as paddy fields. For example, paddy fields have water spring to summer. In that period, there are various creatures in the water, and biodiversity is changing by the season. So, we are also creating the calendar of biodiversity in each season.

The plan should be completed in 2017. We are challenging ourselves to make the plan effective for preserving biodiversity and ecological system services. Each biotope has functions, not only as habitat for creatures but also for providing places for ecological learning by children. Landscapes and natural environments afford habitats for play and learning. For example, children are not allowed in some river banks, but if we could evaluate and think of such places in terms of nature restoration and education, such areas could be multifunctional. Therefore, this project also aims to provide natural sites for children’s play and activity. It will help to create places in which young children will have sustained contact with nature in the city.

In this plan, we are thinking of sustainability and ecological services very close to our city. The farmers are producing vegetables in the fields and fisherman catch fish around the coastal area. As we think of sustainability and biodiversity in the city, the plan will be very important for managing the city environment, but also in sustaining people’s connection to nature. Such connection is a key factor in sustainability, since without knowledge of nature, people will be less engaged with the idea of sustaining nature.

Keitaro ITO
Fukutsu, Japan

On The Nature of Cities

The Case for All In Cities

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
2. Backwell.GloverPeople of color are at the center of a demographic shift that will fundamentally change the global urban landscape. From the growing proportions of Latino, Asian, and African American residents in resurgent cities of the United States, to the diversifying capitals of Europe and the booming metropolises of Asia, Africa, and Latin America, cities populated by people of color are emerging as the new global centers of the 21st century.

Rising income inequality and persistent racial inequity threaten to undermine the opportunities afforded by the urban renaissance and the diversity that draws and excites newcomers in the first place.
Full inclusion is a challenge in nearly all of these urban communities, as local leaders struggle to both address the needs and harness the talents of their diversifying populations. The challenge may stem from rural to urban relocation, historical and continuing prejudice, migration within countries, or immigration. In the United States, this challenge is characterized most noticeably by race and ethnicity.

Before the middle of this century, the United States will become majority people of color; many American cities have already crossed that mark. This seismic shift requires a redefinition of the meaning of success for cities. How will cities reflect and advance the world we want to live in? How will they foster health and allow all residents to reach their full potential? Fundamental to these questions is the issue of inclusion: how will cities engage those who have traditionally been marginalized, excluded, ignored, or reviled because of race, religion, ethnicity, caste, gender, or national origin?

The guiding principle must be equity, which my organization, PolicyLink, defines as just and fair inclusion into a society in which all can participate, prosper, and reach their full potential. As the United States undergoes historic demographic change and urban renaissance, it has the opportunity—indeed, the obligation—to model equity in its cities. Half a century of suburbanization has stripped inner cities of employment and investment, leaving many urban communities of color stranded in areas of concentrated poverty that are devoid of the kind of resources —e.g. jobs and career pathways, good schools and healthy environments— that would allow them to thrive. At the same time, urban centers are becoming a magnet for a young workforce comprised of all racial and ethnic groups, driving urban population growth and injecting new life, energy, and investment into America’s cities.

With communities of color driving population growth throughout U.S. cities, it becomes essential that cities prepare people of color to take—and create—the jobs of the future. Faced with this opportunity for urban renaissance and the challenge of persistent racial, ethnic, and economic disparities that are undermining growth and prosperity for many urban communities, cities are recognizing that they must invest in infrastructure that fosters opportunity and connection: public transit systems, inspiring architecture, strong community institutions, diverse economies and flourishing cultural centers. Cities are also recognizing that those investments must produce jobs and other benefits for the communities that need them most. The United States cannot afford to leave our fastest-growing populations trapped behind racially-constructed barriers to opportunity and inclusion. Racial and ethnic diversity gives the nation a competitive edge in a world without borders, but only if we leverage the strengths, skills, and energy of all people, especially communities of color.

All In Cities is a new initiative by my organization, PolicyLink, designed to seize this extraordinary moment to lay out a vision of equitable cities‑strong, viable urban centers wherein all people, including those who have historically often been marginalized, can find a place, reach their full potential, contribute, and thrive. The initiative seeks to embed a new aspiration for cities in our culture, structures, systems, and policies, developing a comprehensive policy agenda that will help local leaders create, support, and sustain efforts to build equity within their jurisdictions.

All In Cities builds upon lessons learned from decades of community-driven efforts to create healthy, equitable communities of opportunity, the essence of an equitable city. Those efforts have shown us the building blocks: pathways for all to earn a decent livelihood; access to the essentials for health and well-being, including healthy food, clean water, health care and education; ample decent and affordable housing within reach of job centers, good schools, and reliable transportation, for example. Above all, equitable cities are guided by policies, planning, and investment that are intentional about ensuring that no one, and certainly no group, is left behind or pushed out, including people of color.

All In Cities is not just about making sure that more jobs, apprenticeships, or affordable housing units are available to people of color. These are critical tasks, but insufficient goals. The initiative aims to fundamentally change the economy in ways that expand participation, opportunity, and power for communities of color, and to accelerate economic growth in cities, regions and the nation. To accomplish this, we must disrupt the structures, systems and policies that have perpetuated racial inequities and uneven growth in cities.

In practice, this means that cities must embed a commitment to racial equity throughout their operations and decision making. For example, Minneapolis is building equity into the DNA of its administrative offices, creating an Office of Equitable Outcomes that will assess how local government incorporates equity into its hiring, internal operations, and the regional partnerships it makes with businesses, non-profits, and philanthropic organizations. In Los Angeles, the city is using the construction of a $2.4 billion Crenshaw/LAX light rail line to connect neighborhoods—including the disinvested communities of color of South LA—to the airport, a major employment center. The city is ensuring that this project fosters job growth and economic security where it is needed most, not only by building a rail that will physically connect people to jobs, but by requiring that 40 percent of the estimated 23,000 construction jobs created by the project go to residents of very low- to moderate-income neighborhoods, with 10 percent of those jobs targeted at “disadvantaged” workers such as veterans, the long-term unemployed, and formerly incarcerated people. In Portland, the Inclusive Startup Fund, which provides capital, mentoring, and business advising to startups founded by underrepresented groups, is dismantling barriers to employment and business ownership.

These are just a few examples of cities modeling equity-driven development.  Transforming low-wage jobs into good jobs with dignity, linking unemployed residents to jobs building vital infrastructure in their neighborhoods, ending police brutality, and ensuring poor children of color can access great public schools and the support they need to thrive from cradle to college to career—these are all integral aspects of a new kind of metropolitan development that builds equity into the business models, institutions, and policies that shape urban design, planning, investment, and growth.

PolicyLink is fully cognizant of the challenges facing such sweeping action. But reimagining cities without a front-and-center commitment to equity, including racial equity, is a recipe for failure. Unless equity is deeply held as a value and elevated as the primary driver of policy, it does not happen. Instead, America’s history of racial exclusion repeats and deepens itself as low-income people of color are displaced from newly chic neighborhoods, shut out of all but the lowest-wage jobs, and isolated in aging, disinvested communities—these days, in the suburbs. Rising income inequality and persistent racial inequity threaten to undermine the opportunities afforded by the urban renaissance and the diversity that draws and excites newcomers in the first place. These trends also jeopardize regional and national economic growth, as leading economists now recognize. If people of color are driving population growth, then it’s essential that people of color are equipped to take—and make— the jobs of the future

Growing diversity and urbanization are changing the nation and the world. People of all colors, nationalities, faiths, and incomes will share space, bump against one another, and rise or fall together. This heightens the need for all to join, as equal partners, in building equitable cities. The equity imperative illuminates the path to a stronger city—a thriving, resilient, just metropolis that works for all.

Angela Glover Blackwell
New York

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Home-Grown Justice In a Legacy City

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
22.-Freeman-WilsonI am the mayor of a legacy city, a city that rose and fell on the fluctuations of an industrial marketplace.  Like Detroit, Cleveland, and dozens of other cities that have experienced continuous population and job loss since their peak, my hometown of Gary, Indiana, once provided the backbone of the nation’s economy. These cities led the way in educational innovation, architectural design and cultural development.  In the 1920s, Gary earned the nickname of Magic City because of its exponential growth.  Seventy years later, one half of the city’s population is gone, leaving an overwhelming inventory of vacant and abandoned buildings, a nearly 40 percent  unemployment rate and a 35 percent poverty rate in the rear view mirror.   

The creation of a “just city” is neither easy work nor for the faint of heart. It requires that public service remain the focus of political leadership.
Despite the devastating statistics, Gary is home to people who continue to remain faithful after others left. These individuals are raising children, purchasing and maintaining homes, pursuing business opportunities and continuing to invest their time, talent and treasure in a city that some said was not worth the energy. These individuals are my neighbors, fellow church members, former teachers and classmates.  My “Just City” is dedicated to these legacy residents. Together, we must retool Gary into a city that better serves all of us. This is undoubtedly a complex proposition that requires vision, planning, faith. resilience and cheerleading. 

There are times when older residents long for the “good ole days,” but a vision for the future is also essential. History must be incorporated into a plan forward, and for that reason preservation is an integral part of planning in Gary. The award-winning restoration of Marquette Park Pavilion on Lake Michigan and the planned restoration of the City United Methodist Church are two examples of how historic preservation can work in a city’s future. Building on existing assets such as the lakefront, transportation and the proximity to Chicago also fuel a new vision. But the use of non-traditional economic drivers such as art have the potential to be transformative. Recently, city staff, students from the University of Chicago’s Harris School and Theaster Gates’ Place Lab team developed the concept of ArtHouse, a restaurant incubator built around arts and culture. This addresses the void of restaurants in the city by training entrepreneurs, promoting a burgeoning art scene and encouraging the use of an underutilized facility. Collaborations like this must continue.

A “Just City” requires intentional planning which contemplates the participation of all residents in city growth.  Political cycles and a society that feeds on instant gratification sometimes turn mayors into emergency responders.  Sustainability dictates a deliberate approach to rebuilding. Through planning we ensure sustainability and inclusion while protecting against the changes of political winds. One of the biggest complaints against our administration is that we spend too much money on planning.  While we acknowledge that many plans sat on shelves in the past, the adage that those who fail to plan must plan to fail is even truer with cities—especially legacy cities. Gary has been fortunate to have assistance with planning through the White House Strong Cities, Strong Communities designation and the federal Sustainable Communities program; an ongoing collaboration with the University of Chicago and strong relationships with regional and local organizations like the Northwest Indiana Regional Development Authority, the Northwest Indiana Regional Planning Commission, the Legacy Foundation, the Urban League, the Miller Beach Arts & Creative District and the Central District Organization. We have learned to place a premium on training and technical assistance, a clear shift in the traditional relationship between municipal government and potential funding partners.  Historically, Gary and other municipalities have looked to the federal government to simply write a check. While we still accept checks, we understand the benefits derived from planning.  This approach has paid dividends through the demolition of the Sheraton Hotel, a brownfield that cast a shadow over downtown Gary for over 20 years, as well as the successful completion of the once-stalled redevelopment at the Gary/Chicago International Airport. That project included a public-private partnership and unprecedented reinvestment by anchor community institutions like the Methodist Hospital, Indiana University Northwest and the Northern Indiana Public Service Company.                            

But planning won’t succeed without careful stewardship of our environment.  One of the greatest challenges facing legacy cities is the multitude of brownfields that create health hazards and eyesores in our communities. The contamination associated with these buildings or vacant spaces pose a quandary to me and to city planners. But as with many challenges, this presents an opportunity to create a greener Gary through employing innovative tools such as deconstruction, waste-to-energy technology and other advanced manufacturing and construction methodologies. A more just city requires that we embrace practices that preserve the environment for future generations and encourage manufacturers, even those that have enjoyed favored status because of their decision to maintain jobs in the city, to take a similar approach. Community loyalty cannot be viewed as a license to continue practices that are not good for the environment. Steel and other industry must retool to meet regulatory requirements and for the health and safety of residents. At the same time, they should be allowed to do so in a manner that achieves a delicate balance between preserving jobs and continued employment of workers while pursuing environmental health and green development.

A “just city” dictates the use of technology and innovation, a fact also driven by resource challenges. Whether it is the use of graduate students as consultants, the use of computer programs designed for Detroit and Cleveland, or garnering better methods of delivering public safety, solid waste disposal and communication with residents, innovation is allowing the city of Gary to close the gap created by declining financial resources.  This creates a more just city because it improves outcomes for all who consume government. 

Finally, a “just city” empowers and honors residents. The experience of watching your city crumble before your eyes can be disheartening. One might even argue that there is a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder associated with the decline of cities like Gary, Detroit, Flint, Michigan, and Cleveland. Citizens become hopeless, cynical, angry and even abusive of the public officials who have a sincere desire to help. This may even lie at the base of the violence that plagues many urban communities. Every effort to rebuild a legacy city must include a robust plan to include residents in the rebirth.  This approach is more likely to prevent disenfranchised members of the community from feeling that revitalization is occurring around them and without their input.  Communities benefit when all citizens enjoy the fruits of growth and revitalization and from the consideration of diverse ideas.  

From our use of 311 technology, frequent public forums, “15 minutes with the Mayor” in city hall, and the use of social media, Gary citizens have been encouraged to raise their expectations of local government. While this can be a double-edged sword in a resource-challenged environment, it also provides a degree of ownership that causes residents to be active participants in the rebirth of the community.  At the same time, we must assist residents in their need to address the personal challenges associated with poverty and disinvestment in the city. Traditional workforce development tools must be enhanced and often replaced by an aggressive approach to human development that teaches marketable skills and provides remediation whenever and wherever needed. The creation of jobs and the development of skills in proportion to the need of Gary residents has been the Achilles’ heel of our administration. We will never achieve success as a community unless we institutionalize support for African-American men and boys. To continuously allow such a large section of our community to be marginalized defeats our collective purpose.

The creation of a “just city” is neither easy work nor for the faint of heart. Some even consider it thankless. It requires that public service remain the focus of political leadership. The most well-intentioned service is fraught with criticism, pitfalls and missteps. But on my most frustrating day, the delivery of good government to the legacy residents of Gary, Indiana reaps many more rewards than challenges, and consequentially it is my honor and privilege to serve my hometown. Ultimately my definition of a just city is one that provides good government to its citizens.

Karen Freeman-Wilson
Gary

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

How To Build a New Civic Infrastructure

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
6. HechtIn the United States of America cities have long been gateways to opportunity. For centuries, people from all over the country and the world, including my own grandparents, came to our cities chasing the promise of a better life. America’s bargain with its citizens, rich and poor was, in many ways, a model for the world.

A new civic infrastructure, impact investing and civic engagement will drive change. But ultimately, leaders must have the motivation to build resilient structures, practices and solutions to sustain it.
Today, U.S. cities produce 85 percent of the nation’s GDP, are home to more than 50 percent of the population, and spend billions of dollars annually to educate, house and protect their citizens. Meanwhile, American cities are undergoing a major demographic shift. By 2040, America will be a majority-minority nation. And, events in Ferguson and Baltimore have underscored the destructive nature of existing disparities of income, education and opportunity between whites and non-whites.

Addressing these disparities is one of the key social issues of our time. But our current trajectory is too slow, obsessed with short-term wins and incrementalism, where leaders are constantly reinventing the wheel instead of building on the work of those who came before them. We celebrate improvements in one school on one block while tiptoeing around the fact that it is the entire system that needs fixing. We tell heartwarming stories about 100 kids served or 100 young adults placed in good jobs while averting our eyes from the millions more who remain disconnected from opportunity. We talk about how far we have come since the civil rights movement, but are uncomfortable with discussing how far we still must go to achieve true racial equity. Unless we ferociously change course, the new American majority will be less educated, less prosperous and less free.

To build truly just cities, we need a new type of urban practice aimed at achieving dramatically better results for low-income people, faster. This new urban practice will require cities to get key public, private and philanthropic leaders to work together differently, to better harness impact investing dollars, and to leverage technology to engage all residents in solutions.

A New Civic Infrastructure

In this new urban practice, local leaders will need to come together to build a new, more resilient and sustainable civic infrastructure that is focused on getting results.  In many places, like Cleveland and other older industrial cities, the old civic infrastructure disappeared when Fortune 500 companies moved away. Today, public, private, philanthropic and nonprofit leaders are distributing the leadership needed for change so their efforts can survive inevitable turnover and drive large-scale results.

There is no better example of this dynamic than Detroit. With the government in disarray, local philanthropic organizations and business leaders have shared the leadership for more than a decade, making investments that now position the city to take advantage of its fresh start. For example, The Kresge Foundation was the first investor in the city’s new public light rail line with a grant of $35 million.  Quicken Loan’s Dan Gilbert has invested $1 billion of his own money in downtown Detroit and moved 7,000 employees there.

However, one of the most exciting emerging movements around the U.S. is around municipal innovation. From the Offices of New Urban Mechanics in Boston and Philadelphia and the rise of Innovation Teams in the U.S. and Israel, to the racial equity work spearheaded by the City of Seattle, local government is changing the way it works, looking at issues through a racial lens and adopting innovative practices, so that its institutions not only contribute to a new civic infrastructure but its money gets better results for low income people. For example, Boston’s Citizens Connect, a maintenance-request app for reporting problems from broken windows to potholes, has been downloaded tens of thousands of times and been replicated in more than 20 countries. Its Discover BPS product is a Boston public school search engine that helps low income parents understand where their children are eligible to go to school.

Better Harness the Impact Investor 

There is an emerging, global movement around impact investing. From what we know so far, impact investors look much like the charitable giver—they want their dollars to make a difference. They invest in what they’re passionate about and privilege investing in places, like their hometowns or other communities they feel a connection with. To date, a majority of impact investing dollars have gone to the developing world. Now, as more and more people look to cities as units of change, we need to give investors reason to believe there are investable opportunities in U.S. cities. And leaders must come together and create mechanisms for those dollars to land in cities and communities that need them the most.

Luckily, an exciting amount of place-based investment opportunities and approaches have emerged over the past few years, including pay for success, crowd-funding, peer-to-peer lending and locally funded venture capital.   For example, Living Cities and other private and philanthropic funders have invested $27 billion in the Massachusetts Juvenile Justice Social Innovation Financing (SIF) Project, a pay for success initiative. The effort focuses on reducing recidivism and increasing employment for more than 1,000 at-risk, formerly incarcerated young men in the three Massachusettes cities: Boston, Chelsea and Springfield. As private investors, we assume the risk by financing the services up front, getting repaid only if agreed-upon measurable social impacts are achieved. In exchange for taking the risk, the investors receive a financial return. This means that precious government resources are spent only in the event of proven success and government savings.

Institutions like Living Cities and others committed to building this field must figure out how to promote, aggregate and form these options into market so people can more easily invest in the local context. We need to accelerate their growth everywhere.

Civic engagement with a focus on technology 

America has long had a unique brand of civic participation—a combination of individual commitment and group action. Unfortunately, trends over the past few decades show that both are in decline. The 2014 midterm election had an individual voter turnout of 36 percent—the lowest in any election cycle since World War II.

Encouragingly, the work we are actively engaged in at Living Cities is providing us with evidence of a nation that is actively confronting these trends. Now, we have the opportunity to once again be a model for the rest of the world. We must embrace civic engagement not just as a ‘town-hall,’ but as a tool for cities to co-create solutions with their residents. We must use all the power of modern technologies to engage people and communities who have been historically left out of the processes.

We’ve already seen this idea taking seed in New York City, where a participatory budgeting experiment that began in 2011 with four Council Districts has now grown to 24 Districts. The city harnessed digital technologies to open budgeting decisions to community members.  “So far, I love feeling like we have some say in what is done,” said Maggie Tobin, a participant from Kensington, Brooklyn, in Council District 39, to the New York Times. But as the ideas pass to the city agencies involved, she said, “I find myself already being distrustful.”  The process has resulted in better budgeting decisions and arguably better results. In addition, more people of color turned out to vote, and Hispanics, in particular, voted at twice the usual rate. More needs to be done to ensure that those who participate, like Maggie Tobin, have faith that the process will result in meaningful change.

Ultimately just cities are built when leaders are committed to justice as a fundamental, long-term priority. As former Bogota, Colombia Mayor Antans Mockus recently said, “Change isn’t the biggest political challenge, sustaining it is.” Change happens when leaders decide they want to make it happen. I have made that commitment as the leader of Living Cities. I am also committed to supporting public and private leaders to do the same nationwide. These three elements—a new civic infrastructure, impact investing and civic engagement—will drive that change. But ultimately, leaders must have the motivation to build resilient structures, practices and solutions to sustain it. Only then will we have built a just city.

Ben Hecht
Baltimore

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Justice from the Ground Up

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
12. BargmanSoil contamination is a baseline condition for most of the sites I’ve worked on over the past two decades. The toxic imprint derives from industry—steel production, shipbuilding, fabrication of automobile and machine parts, to name just a few—in both urban and rural settings. But it also comes from lead-containing gasoline and paint, banned long ago but still quietly wreaking havoc. It’s a byproduct of the human pursuit of greater material wealth and a more convenient and comfortable life. In other words, it’s the legacy of progress, for better or worse. 

Landscape design and social justice are inseparable—an extension of Olmsted’s ideal: that city dwellers deserve the physical and mental health benefits provided by open access to nourishing environments, regardless of their social or economic status.
As a landscape designer with expertise in toxic remediation and the regeneration of fallow land, the “better or worse” part is vitally important to me. I can say that with certainty, thanks to hindsight and 30 years of academic and professional experience. I didn’t grow up with the term “environmental justice,” which came into use in the 1980s to describe, in part, the unequal distribution of the benefits and burdens of progress. But I now know what a growing body of research shows: in the United States there’s a disturbing overlap between the maps showing where poor people and ethnic minorities live, and where contaminated soils exist.

You might use a stronger word than “disturbing” if you or a loved one were to develop a learning disability, cancer, or liver damage, which are just three of the many proven ill-effects of poisoning by lead, arsenic, and other pernicious elements found in soil. As I write this essay, residents of Vernon, California, in East Los Angeles, a low-income and largely Latino community, were celebrating a bittersweet victory, after forcing the closure of a battery recycling plant owned by New Jersey–based Exide Technologies. The sickening part of the story, pun intended, is that the plant operated for two decades after its environmental violations were first reported to the California Department of Toxic Substances Control (DTSC). Both the cleanup efforts (just 150 of 10,000 contaminated properties were reported to have undergone soil remediation as of early October) and the official response have been weak. “All of us could have acted sooner to develop a more complete picture of what the operations of that facility meant to the health of the residents around it,” DTSC director Barbara A. Lee said. She hastened to add that “the department had tried to shut down the facility in the past but the courts blocked the effort,” according to one published report.

When I read that I chuckled sadly to myself. It reminded me of an exchange I had a few years ago with a high-ranking city official with oversight of a new development for low-income residents I was working on. The developers were eager to start construction, to show “progress,” so they broke ground before testing the soil. Sure enough, the dirt was hot. I had joined the project late, when the momentum to build the inaugural prototype house was unstoppable. But when I learned the test results, remediation was still possible, and regardless, I was bound to report them. I still get a pit in my stomach when I think of the official’s response, which went something like this: The city has enough problems that are plain to see, so let’s not add to them by disclosing a difficult truth, especially one that’s invisible. To my disappointment, the project team elected not to address the contamination, and I was politely excused from the job.

To me, it’s common sense to start every project with the assumption of site pollution. So the natural thing to do—the right thing to do—is to determine the type and extent of toxicity, and incorporate that information into your design strategy and development plans. That’s my vision of the landscape designer’s role in creating a just city: Scrutinize the site right down to the molecular level, identify who’s in harm’s way and of what, and push decision makers to take active steps to remediate the bad stuff.

That simple idea—the opposite of the prevailing “don’t dig, don’t tell” mentality—was the driving principle of one of my most significant collaborations. Big Mud was D.I.R.T. Studio’s contribution to Operation Paydirt, the brainchild of the ingenious conceptual artist Mel Chin. Like many of Chin’s initiatives, Paydirt—which launched in 2006 and continues to this day—focuses on social justice. D.I.R.T. participated in the project from 2007 to 2009, helping to devise an implementation strategy to address the high lead content in New Orleans’ soil—in other words, a social recipe for just ground. 

As I wrote in the anthology Resilience in Ecology and Urban Design, Big Mud proposed a landscape-recovery strategy that takes into account the many physical and social scales within which New Orleans, like all cities, functions. Working with local lead soil expert Dr. Howard Mielke, we helped reveal the “geography of lead.” Our team then concocted a way to treat leaded soil, by amending it with phosphates and adding clean fill. The phosphates bond with lead to form pyromorphite, which is insoluble in water, neutralizing the toxicity. Clean river sediment abounds in New Orleans from alluvial deposits piled on shore during flooding. Put a layer of that rich Mississippi mud over the phosphate-treated soil, plant trees, et voila—a healthy landscape. Implementation called for the training and employment of community members to collect, stockpile, and deliver the ingredients from a network of holding sites that range in size from extra large distribution hubs we called Mud Depots to smaller Mud Markets, like a neighborhood garden center.

This implementation strategy has yet to be realized. But Paydirt and Big Mud were, and still are, hugely important to me. They crystallized my core belief that landscape design and social justice are inseparable. This notion is actually an extension of Frederick Law Olmsted’s ideal: that city dwellers deserve the physical and mental health benefits provided by open access to nourishing environments, regardless of their social or economic status.

Today I aspire to a similar social imperative but face a different urban landscape, one where poor people and poor soils often go together. To address this inequity—which weakens families and communities through higher instances of illness and learning disabilities, as well as nervous and emotional disorders—I offer a simple proposal. Always test the soil before you create places where people will live, work, and play. If it’s toxic, address it. As Mel Chin said of post-Katrina New Orleans, we have the opportunity to rebuild “from below the ground up.”

Social justice—and soil remediation—must be built into the foundation of a just city. It’s a solution that’s as simple as dirt.

Julie Bargmann
Charlottesville

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
9. cruz-forman1. A just city repositions inequality

The conversation about justice and the city must begin with directly confronting social and economic inequality and prioritizing them as the main issue around which institutions must be reorganized. Contemporary architectural and urban practices must engage this political project head-on. We must question the neoliberal hegemony that has been imposed on the city in recent decades, which has exerted a violent blow to our collective economic, social and natural resources, producing an anti-public agenda whose ultimate consequence is an ever-widening gap between rich and poor. 

If we are interested in the Just City, we must begin by confronting the political machinery that endorses uneven urban development.
Today’s urban crisis is exponentially complex, as the consolidation of exclusionary power is both economic and political in nature, driven by one of the largest corporate lobbying machines in history. In the name of freedom, this machine has deregulated and privatized the public assets of our cities, subordinating collective responsibility to serve individual interest. Though the term “crisis” has become ubiquitous, we have become institutionally paralyzed in the context of these unprecedented shifts, silently witnessing the consolidation of the most blatant politics of exclusion, the shrinkage of social and public institutions and their role in the construction of the city. In that way, our crisis can’t be written off as a purely economic or environmental emergency. Rather, it is one of culture—a crisis of institutions unable to rethink unjust and unsustainable urban growth. 

If we are interested in the Just City, we must begin by confronting the political machinery that endorses uneven urban development. In other words, we must possess critical knowledge of the conditions that produced our urban crisis.  Without altering the exclusionary policies that have decimated our public culture today, urban design and planning will remain decorative enterprises camouflaging the greedy politics and economics of urban development that have eroded the primacy of public infrastructure worldwide.

In this context, the most relevant new urban practices and projects promoting social and economic inclusion are emerging not from sites of economic power but from sites of scarcity and zones of conflict, where citizens themselves, pressed by socioeconomic injustice, are pushed to imagine alternative possibilities. It is from the sense of urgency that a new political agenda is emerging, one in which urban design and architecture will take a more critical stance against the discriminatory policies and economics that produced inequality and marginalization. At this moment, it is not buildings but the fundamental reorganization of social and economic relations that is the essential for the expansion of democracy and justice in the city. 

2. A just city reengages the public

Since the early 1980s, with the ascendance of neoliberal economic policies based on the deregulation and privatization of public resources, an unchecked culture of individual and corporate greed has resulted in dramatic income inequality and social disparity. This new period of institutional unaccountability and illegality has been framed politically by the erroneous idea that liberty is the “right to be left alone,” a private dream devoid of social responsibility. But the mythology in which free-market “trickle down economics,” assures that we all benefit when we forgive the wealthy their taxes, has been proven wrong by political economists Saez and Piketty. They have exposed that both great economic upheavals in 20th century America—the crashes of 1929 and 2008— were also periods of the largest socioeconomic inequality and the lowest marginal taxation of the wealthy. The deepening of inequality in America is a direct result of the polarization of public and private resources, and this has had dramatic implications for the erosion of public institutions, and the uneven growth of the contemporary city, with its dramatic increase of territories of poverty.

However, these trends are not inevitable. Broad, structural political and social changes are still possible. Such changes have occurred at certain moments in history, when the instruments of urban development were primarily driven by an investment in the public. For example, there was the New Deal in the U.S. after the 1929 crisis, when a multi-sector institutional momentum took place that re-engaged public priorities by investing in public infrastructure, housing and education to re-energize the economy. Or the post-war Social Democratic urban politics in Europe, that framed the urban and economic growth of the European city by investing in public goods, such as Mitterrand’s Grand Project for Paris. How do we reinvigorate public investment? And how do we ignite new forms of civic participation, to demand these investments? 

A “just city” needs progressive public governance, driven by an ethical assertion that the good of the individual depends on the health of the collective, and an imperative to recalibrate the relations between individuals, collectives and institutions. At a time when the extreme right and the extreme left on the political spectrum share a distrust of government, we urgently need to reclaim the role of government to prioritize public interests, and enact the protection systems—social and economic—that can stem the trend toward radical inequality. We need a new political leadership that engages the marginalized sectors of our societies, committed to efficient, transparent, inclusive and collaborative forms of local governance.

3. A just city redistributes knowledge

Social Justice today is not only about the redistribution of resources; it should also promote the redistribution of knowledges. The polarization of public and private interests in the city has produced a rupture between institutions and publics. At the University of California San Diego, where we lead the Cross-Border Initiative, we have been pursuing new strategies of “knowledge exchange” between the top-down and the bottom-up. In one direction, we examine how specific, bottom-up urban activism can trickle upward to transform top-down institutional policy and practice; and, in the other direction, we investigate how top-down resources can reach sites of marginalization and support bottom up intelligence. This journey from the bottom-up to the top-down is urgent today to rethink urban justice, and it requires new forms of institutional representation and urban education that can translate and facilitate the everyday practices and needs of marginalized communities into new development logics for inclusive urbanization. 

Our campus is barely thirty minutes away from the most trafficked border in the world, occupying one of the most contested and uneven trans-national global regions, where urbanizations of wealth and poverty collide and overlap daily. In the context of such social and economic disparity, many underserved neighborhoods in our region have constructed alternative models of urban sustainability, resilience and adaptation to redefine urban growth. We claim that learning from these bottom-up forms of local socio-economic production is essential to rethinking urban density through new strategies of urban coexistence and interdependence. 

We created the Cross-Border Community Stations Project as a platform for these exchanges, linking the specialized knowledge of the university with the community-based knowledge embedded in marginal neighborhoods on both sides of the border. This two-way flow, as universities engage communities but also communities enter into the universities, suggests the need for new forms of teaching and learning that can expand pedagogical processes beyond the classroom and embed them in the everyday social life of communities. 

This encounter between formal and informal knowledge requires new conceptions of public space, as a space of education and knowledge production. This involves the transformation of empty spaces into active civic classrooms, spaces of knowledge, research production and local economy. The University of California, San Diego refers to these field-based laboratories as “Community Stations,” new public spaces where research, teaching and community activism are co-curated collaboratively and where a new environmental literacy and cultural action can stimulate political agency at the scale of communities. 

In particular, this collaborative urban pedagogical model between research universities and local community-based agencies emphasizes that marginalized communities and major universities can be meaningful partners with knowledge and resources to contribute, in the search for solutions to deep social and economic challenges, to improve the quality of life across these underserved, demographically diverse neighborhoods.  

4. A just city rethinks beautification

A Just City will move the idea of beautification from aesthetics for aesthetics’ sake into an expanded, more complex idea of beauty. As cities become increasingly defined by architecture that only serves to camouflage and deepen exclusionary politics and economics, it is urgent that we challenge the steady march of decorative revitalization. 

Beautification has long been an excuse for the displacement of communities. Yet today, the issue seems more relevant than ever, given the way it has been leveraged for exclusionary ends by seemingly progressive urban agendas such as New Urbanism and the Creative Class movements. It is not enough for New Urbanism, with its obsession with form-based code and stylistic historicism, to retrofit suburbia with a “prettier” themed façade, if the ownership models that define such infill developments remain mono-cultural, aesthetically homogeneous and unaffordable. These neoconservative urban trends have been adopted by many municipalities across the U.S., and have done nothing to rethink existing models of property by redefining affordability and the value of social participation, enhancing the role of communities in coproducing housing, or enabling a more inclusive idea of ownership.

Equally, the Creative Class agenda has only capitalized on the aesthetics of cosmopolitan hipster enclaves that are supposedly driven by artists and cultural producers, without providing truly affordable rents for artists and accessible infrastructures for fabrication and cultural production that are necessary to incentivize local economic growth in and for neighborhoods. With their facades of beautification and innovation, both agendas pave the way to gentrification and fail to advance social or economic justice in the city.

The Just City requires a more experiential dimension of beauty, less based on a visual quality and more on a sort of subliminal drama and vibrancy, a process of encountering and co-existing with the “other;” an aesthetic quality that embraces contradictions. It is about the construction of a sense of aesthetics that requires risk. In other words, it is an idea of beauty that does not smother and suppress contradictions or conceal conflict, but emerges out of  socio-economic and political inclusion. A city is beautiful to the extent that it is inclusive, and one whose public spaces are not merely catalysts for architectures of privatization, but are generative of urbanizations of social justice.

5. A just city reimagines citizenship

Antanas Mockus, former Mayor of Bogota, Colombia, insisted that before transforming the city physically, we need to transform social norms. To Mockus, urban transformation is as much about changing patterns of public trust and social cooperation from the bottom-up as it is about changing urban, public health and environmental policy from the top-down. Mockus enacted a distinctive kind of egalitarian political leadership, declaring emphatically the moral norms that should regulate our relations: that human life is sacred, that radical inequality is unjust, that adequate education and health are human rights and that gender violence is intolerable. He reorganized public policy by nurturing a new citizenship culture, grounded in a moral claim that human beings—regardless of formal legal citizenship, regardless of race—have dignity, and deserve equal respect and basic quality of life. 

In rethinking urban justice, Mockus developed a corresponding urban pedagogy of distinctive performative interventions to demonstrate precisely what he meant, inspiring generations of civic actors, urbanists and artists across Latin America and the world to think more creatively about engaging social behavior. Meeting urban violence with stricter penalties will not work. Law and order solutions don’t interiorize new values among the public.

For example, he believed in modeling desired behavior by, for example, showering on public television to demonstrate how one turns off the water when soaping up. One famous example of urban pedagogy is that early in his administration, Mockus replaced the corrupt downtown traffic police force with a troupe of 500 street mimes who stood on street corners and shamed traffic violators by blowing whistles, and pointing, and holding up signs of disapproval: “incorrecto!” To many it looked like a circus, and Mockus drew criticism; but in this act of public shaming, the mimes were instituting a new social norm of compliance with traffic signs; and it worked. Their antics became a citywide sensation; every one was watching on television, and traffic fatalities declined by 50% in Mockus’ first administration. Additionally, Mockus distributed placards across the city, one with a thumbs up sign, the other with a thumbs down; and he encouraged citizens to use these placards to communicate approval and disapproval to one another. The changes were palpable: people began to look at each other and recognize each other. In a very short period of time, a new sense of civic responsibility began to emerge in a city that had fallen into complete dysfunction and violence. At the same time, a new trust in government began to take hold as Mockus won the hearts of citizens, and he accompanied this bottom-up normative change with massive top-down municipal investment in social service and public works, improving peoples lives in very tangible ways.  Naysayers could not deny the proof: During Mockus’ first administration, murders were reduced by 70 percent, traffic fatalities by 50 percent, tax collection nearly doubled, and water usage decreased by 40 percent while water and sewer services were extended to nearly all households.

What Mockus’ work demonstrates is that urban social norms can be reoriented through top-down municipal intervention through community processes. These are fundamental lessons that can be brought to the American city, primarily today when neighborhood violence has been exacerbated by the resurgence of racism and police brutality, but also by current anti-immigration ideology, which together with the exclusionary policies it engenders has deepened injustice in the city. 

From the vantage point of the border territory where we live and work, social norms here have incrementally hardened against immigrants and immigration, alongside the hardening of the legal, social, economic and physical walls between the United States and Mexico. Our borders have been militarized in tandem with legislation that erodes social institutions, barricades public space and divides communities. Such protectionist strategies, fueled by paranoia and greed, are defining a radically protectionist social agenda of exclusion that threatens to dominate public life for years to come. 

A community is always in dialogue with its immediate social and ecological environment: this is what defines its political nature. But when the productive capacity of a community is splintered by political borders, it must find ways to recuperate its social agency and entrepreneurial potential. This is why we have always been inspired by the poor, immigrant neighborhoods on both sides of the San Diego-Tijuana border, whose residents are redefining urban sustainability and pointing to new ways of constructing citizenship. A just city depends on a political leadership that recognizes our interdependence and reaches across borders to produce new strategies of coexistence. And it is precisely within the marginalized yet resilient immigrant communities flanking the border that such a conception of civic culture will emerge, one whose DNA is composed of empathy, collaboration and shared values. 

Isolationism is no longer an option in today’s world of global interconnectedness.  Ethically, we cannot ignore the negative impact that our decisions, choices and habits have on others near and far; nor can we impose our will on others by force. The problems of Mexico and Central America are ours. The fallout of climate change on the global poor, most of which the rich countries of the North have caused, is our responsibility. The dramatic injustices perpetrated against marginalized populations in Ferguson, MO and undoubtedly countless other cities across the U.S. cannot remain invisible, isolated from the halls of Washington. We cannot wish the problems of such places away with market solutions, or with guns and fences; instead we must listen to and cooperate with those most affected by our policies, globally and domestically.

At bottom, we need to recover a sense of collective commitment to the least well-off among us. Social justice must reassert itself at the center of today’s public discourse, and we must also recover a sense of cultural empathy, the sort emblazoned on the Statue of Liberty’s plaque:

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

In a just city, economic and urban growth cannot come at the expense of social equality and inclusion. The drive to privatize must be tempered by an interventionist, disruptive commitment to public investment in infrastructure and general social welfare. The market will not solve our problems. Public and private interests must be harmonized. The public, particularly the poorest members of it, must take their cities back. Government must become transparent, efficient, and inclusive, with massive investment in new strategies of civic engagement to reignite a new public culture capable of making claims on its own behalf. Today, mistrust of government and hollow notions of progress and freedom for all have undermined the possibility of drawing upon the shared democratic values that unite us. Citizenship has become a polarizing concept, caught up in narratives about protecting “our” resources from “them.” In the just city, a more inclusive citizenship culture, based on shared values, commitments and common interests, rather than rigid jurisdictional categories that dehumanize the other, must be the foundation of a new public imagination.

Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman
San Diego

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Fonna Forman

about the writer
Fonna Forman

Fonna Forman is a Professor of Political Theory at the University of California, San Diego and founding Director of the UCSD Center on Global Justice. Current work focuses on climate justice in cities, on human rights at the urban scale and civic participation as a strategy of equitable urbanization.

Resistance, Education and the Collective Will of the Just City

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
4. Travis

What has happened is that in the last 20 years, America has changed from a producer to a consumer. And all consumers know that when the producer names the tune, the consumer has got to dance. That’s the way it is. We used to be a producer—very inflexible at that, and now we are consumers and, finding it difficult to understand. Natural resources and minerals will change your world. The Arabs used to be in the third world. They have bought the second world and put a firm down payment on the first one. Controlling your resources will control your world. This country has been surprised by the way the world looks now. They don’t know if they want to be Matt Dillon or Bob Dylan. They don’t know if they want to be diplomats or continue the same policy—of nuclear nightmare diplomacy. John Foster Dulles ain’t nothing but the name of an airport now…The idea concerns the fact that this country wants nostalgia. They want to go back as far as they can—even if it’s only as far as last week. Not to face now or tomorrow, but to face backwards. And yesterday was the day of our cinema heroes riding to the rescue at the last possible moment. The day of the man in the white hat or the man on the white horse—or the man who always came to save America at the last moment—someone always came to save America at the last moment—especially in “B” movies. And when America found itself having a hard time facing the future, they looked for people like John Wayne. But since John Wayne was no longer available, they settled for Ronald Reagan and it has placed us in a situation that we can only look at like a “B” movie.” Gil Scot Heron,  “B-Movie,” 1981

If the Negro is not careful he will drink in all the poison of modern civilization and die from the effects of it. Ultimately it will do us very little good to simply get more opportunities in the Global South or elsewhere if we do not ask ourselves and resolve the question, “Do we really want to continue to design while mimicking the kinds of socio-political society that marginalized us in the first place?” —Marcus Garvey 

To build a just city, we must turn to equitable social education as an alternative to police power, for such power will always tend towards corruption and abuse.
What makes great buildings, spaces and places? It is when those structures or spaces reflect and serve the people of the community for which they are intended. It is when they lift the spirit while providing shelter and functional use; when they foster positive aesthetic and tactile relationships between the buildings, spaces and/or places themselves and the people they are intended to serve.

I penned that statement more than 20 years ago at a moment when I was striving to define my practice as an architect and interior designer. It was relevant then and remains so today as we struggle to imagine a just city being born out of the troubled world we occupy today.

I grew up in Las Vegas, Nevada during the 1950s and ‘60s. Nowhere on earth, I am convinced, is there a clearer sense of injustice towards black and minority peoples—Native Americans, Mexicans, Jews and Mormons. I learned early that the real architects building community in Las Vegas didn’t have degrees, weren’t of pedigree and didn’t work in an ivory tower. Rather, they were those laborers, dishwashers, maids, porters and nannies of color who worked sometimes two or more jobs and still found the time to confront the challenges of building community in the city that scorned them. 

I never forgot the lesson of Las Vegas while attending and ultimately graduating from “majority” schools with two architecture degrees. Throughout these years of study, I never encountered peers or professors who seemed to know or care about the reality that I knew only too well.

Today my practice centers around culture, community and education—no doubt as a direct result of the revelations of my intuitive knowlege combined with the insensitivity of my formal training. I have heard, over the course of my 30 years of practice, many other black architects utter similar instances in their own lives—and more so than not I might add. Architecture remains one of the most segregated old boy professions amongst many in our present society.

The troubled composer and song writer Gil Scott Heron got it right in the 1980s, commenting on Ronald Reagan’s election, voting apathy and the politics of governance in the most powerful and advanced nation in the history of man, when he reminded us that one cannot make a “classic” out of a “B Movie.” 

Emergence of a viable model for a just city capable of serving a world population projected to rise to between 9 and 12 billion people (if not more) in the next 70 or so years must begin with a new way of existing as a collective humanity. 

As I have espoused before in lectures across the country, “The problem lies not in our abilities, but in our humanity.” What would it take to create a place where the rights of virtually every single citizen is not debated but guaranteed? A guarantee not mandated by laws, but by a collective will of the general populous as right and just and in the best interest of all who live in that community? How can a society realize and maintain a healthy sense of “justice” once conflict arises out of misunderstanding, personal or selfish interests?  What does resolution and mediation look like in a just city? Well, one vision of conflict resolution that comes to mind is this notion of instilling each member of the collective with a strong understanding of assured consistent justice for all. This can only be done through an early, open education that is offered to all coupled with development of accountable agencies equally representative of the populous.

In a review of Paul Chevigny’s book Edge of the Knife: Police Violence in the Americas,  Jerome H. Skolnick offers the following: “The dilemma of civil society is that the police are both essential and mistrusted, because they enjoy the power of exercising force. . . . Civil society has limited the legal powers of the police precisely because people mistrust and sometimes fear them.”

Skolnick then goes on to say, “At the same time, society must ask those whom we fear to protect us against criminals. That dilemma sets a challenge to a civil, liberal and democratic order. To achieve public safety we must offer the police instruments of violence. But we also need to develop institutions of accountability to limit inevitable abuses of legal authority, which will vary depending on the social order that we of the larger polity expect police to reproduce.”

To build a just city, we must turn to equitable social education as an alternative to police power, for such power will always tend towards corruption and abuse.

But we can’t stop with restructuring structures of power. As a trained architect, I am interested in defining intersections between design and culture. My teaching methodology explores justice and culture as potential place makers and form drivers along with issues of design.  This vein of exploration is the virtual key for conceptualizing and deploying design solutions in my practice and especially in my academic studio, where students often are exposed to cultures of color for the very first time. Providing a broader learning experience in design is the goal here.

All of the above comes into play for me when envisioning the making of a just city. I believe we must begin with two primary, essential ingredients, three foundational rights and a collective will. The first ingredient is resistance to the norms and practices that have so far prevented justice from prevailing. The second is a quality and equitable education that is free by right to the average citizen. 

Resistance

A true democratic vision for society is often blurred if not derailed by the very forces that are put in place to assure the viability of its survival.  Resistance, of the collective citizenry, enough to provide a pathway for a true democratic model to emerge, is the first and foremost of the two main ingredients. The philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurti made these remarks as he responded to a student’s question, “if everyone was in revolt, would there not be chaos in the world?”

“…Is the present society in such perfect order that chaos would result if everyone revolted against it? Is there not chaos now? Is everything beautiful, uncorrupted? Is everyone living happily, fully, richly? Is man not against man? Is there not ambition, ruthless competition? So the world is already in chaos that is the first thing to realize…It is only those who are in constant revolt that discover what is true, not the man who conforms, who follows some tradition…”

Inherent in the equation for defining the just city is confronting the unjust structures that make up our world and challenging them with a collective resolve. 

Education

Resistance can only evolve if the average citizen has the tools and knowledge needed to advocate for meaningful change. The will of an educated citizenry is needed to protect the rights of the collective. Only with a quality education guaranteed to each of its citizens can a community begin to value those social obligations that are the cornerstones in the construction of the just city.

This right to a quality education for all cannot be shifted, modified or changed in any way that could diminish its power. However this initiative also should not be and cannot be mandated in a just city. Today, U.S. schools are more segregated than they were in the late 1960s. Three generations after the Supreme Court’s landmark decision Brown v. Board of Education, black children still attend separate and unequal schools. As this failure of our legal system demonstrates, the right of everyone to a quality and free education cannot be set in motion through government. Rather, this understanding must lie in the hearts of the collective.

“We must create immediately an atmosphere of freedom so that you can live and find out for yourselves what is true, so that you become intelligent, so that you are able to face the world and understand it, not just conform to it, so that inwardly, deeply, psychologically you are in constant revolt,” says Jiddu Krishamurti.

The educational system of the just city must be representative and inclusive as must be all other systems. Children need to see faces that look like their own in the defining, governing, designing, construction and maintaining of the places and spaces that they live, work, play and grow.”

Foundational rights of the just city

 Citizens are guaranteed the basic human services for quality of life liberty and the pursuit of happiness, such as quality air, clean water, nourishing food, proper clothing and adequate shelter.

—Individual rights are not mandated by law. Rather, they are supported by an informed leadership ably prepared to make compelling arguments to a well-educated general populous which can understand the plight of others and empathize with them.

—Diversity is respected while at the same time there is an understanding of the value of collective identity.

The collective will of the Just City

—Works tirelessly in maintaining a proper balance between economic, political, social and ecological concerns.

—Understands the importance of having a political consciousness that supports progressive movements at national and local levels toward respect for others and greater equality.

—Assures all its citizens equity in representation across the boards and at all levels.

—Seeks a balance between economic growth and social obligation.

—Assures allocation of adequate resources for desired outcomes.

—Supports a system of maintenance and of checks and balances that is clearly understood and respected.

—Maintains a high respect for maintenance, accountability and stewardship of the planet and all its living inhabitants.

Towards the just city of the future 

Any society is only as strong as its average citizen. With that in mind, life in a just city will focus more on the health, safety and welfare of the average citizen than on the elite. A just city is a “bottom up” proposition where the majority of the citizens are well-educated. In this model, the average citizen is informed, empowered and has a clear understanding of a broader sense of purpose amongst a wider diversity of community inhabitants. 

Whether or not we will be able to strive towards the highest ideal of a just city is largely a question of our humanity. It is up to each of us to determine whether we are up to the challenge. 

Jack Travis
New York

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

 

The Long Ride

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
14. SpencerIf you have never been to Baltimore, you should come to visit. From Baltimore Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport, you can ride the light rail to downtown in 25 minutes for one of the best deals in the country. If you ride the train between Boston and Washington, you can walk out of Pennsylvania Station and board the Charm City Circulator to downtown, and it’s free! However, if you live in the city of Baltimore and you want to rely on transit to get you to all of life’s functions, you need to recalculate your aspirations for life’s necessities and ambitions. For the 30 percent of people who live in Baltimore without a car (which, coincidentally corresponds with the percentage of people between 16 and 64 not in the labor force), the pursuit of economic opportunity, particularly beyond the confines of downtown, comes with limitations.

This image of a public servant—say, an airport security guard—forced to sleep on a hard chair because they have no way of getting home after a late shift epitomizes the conditions of today’s unjust city.
The above example serves as powerful reminder of how access to opportunity, transit mobility and the missing luxury of transportation choice is a critical gap in the path to shared prosperity for many in places like Baltimore. It is equally important to understand and underscore that fostering a more just place that includes all, especially those with the most limited means, is not a zero-sum game, but can create greater benefits for everyone.

Baltimore is a wealthy region in the highest-per-capita income state in America. With the Port of Baltimore—the furthest inland deepwater port on the Atlantic coast—significant highway access and the birthplace of the B&O railroad, Baltimore in its heyday boasted one of the best intermodal transportation networks in the nation. At one time nearly 40 percent of the US population was within a day’s drive of Baltimore.

Despite its proximity to abundant wealth, Baltimore is a poor city. The median family income in the city is less than two thirds that of the next closest jurisdiction, and most new jobs, particularly those that pay good salaries, are located outside of the city in areas disconnected from public transit and inaccessible to the 30 percent of Baltimoreans without a car.

There are racial dynamics that further complicate this picture. Baltimore is a poor and majority black city in a wealthy and majority-white metropolitan area. Nearly 70 percent of the regional—read suburban—population is white, while 64 percent of the Baltimore City population is black. The racial dynamics of this spatial mismatch—defined as the gap between home and employment—is real and unavoidable for now.

While there has been a move towards “transit-oriented developments” in the region, these have tended to intensify existing disparities by catering to those who can afford market-rate rents, many of whom also happen to work commute-friendly 9-5 days.  Meanwhile, those don’t have that coveted first-shift schedule—many of them lower-wage service workers—find themselves at the mercy of a broken transit system. In one example, late-shift airport workers at BWI Airport must either take a bus to a transfer point and wait a few hours for the next leg of their journey home, or find a place to sleep in the airport until light rail operation commences in the morning. In other instances, transit services terminate at the edge of business parks, leaving employees trekking the last mile or more on foot.

This image of a public servant—say, a TSA agent—forced to sleep on a hard chair because they have no way of getting home after a late shift epitomizes the conditions of today’s unjust city.

This past June, Maryland Governor Larry Hogan chose to pull the plug on Baltimore’s planned Red Line, a 14.1-mile, $2.9 billion east-west light-rail line which Baltimore residents and transit advocates had been working to make a reality since 2002. If constructed, the new rail line would have been the start of transit system—more than our current disconnected transit modes—that could work for Baltimore’s underserved commuters. It would have created hundreds of new jobs and many new development opportunities in underserved neighborhoods. Afterwards, the state released a map of the proposed reallocation of the funds that showed road projects everywhere but Baltimore, adding insult to injury

Hogan’s decision to cancel the planned investment in Baltimore became public a mere two months after the city broke out in demonstrations and protests over the death of Freddie Gray. Known as the Baltimore Uprising, these demonstrations against police violence and inequality were themselves a warning of the looming volcanic eruption to be expected after generations of unjust treatment and lack of access to economic opportunity.

Yet there are steps policymakers and others can take to interrupt this pernicious cycle and begin to create the conditions for a just city.

Two weeks before the governor’s decision to cancel the Red Line, the Opportunity Collaborative—a public/private collective—released a Regional Plan for Sustainable Development. The effort, funded through HUD’s Sustainable Communities Initiative, began with the premise and understanding that racialized structural and institutional barriers were created that have long denied citizens with reasonable access to opportunity.

The broad recommendations of the Opportunity Collaborative—to retain, attract and prepare a workforce for growing mid-skill career path jobs and to strengthen housing and transportation connectivity to those regional employment centers—would create more inclusive outcomes to improve individual and family well-being and to better position the region and the state in a more competitive global economy.

A just city is one that supports this vision of a shared destiny: one that strives to guarantee access to opportunity for all its citizens without regard for race, income or political affiliation. One step in that direction is to mandate equity analyses of policies under consideration. Similar to the traditionally used fiscal impact analysis, this would give lawmakers a greater awareness of the potential disparate impacts of their decisions before they are made.

A just Baltimore is a place where the ease and convenience of access is provided for everyone, not just tourists and visitors. Transportation plans and investments must consider the needs and realities of those who depend on public services every day not only on special occasions.

History shows that once services are designed and implemented for a full spectrum of users, more users show up and ridership demand grows.

We must strive for a system that works for all, not just for the moral good it affords us, but for the economic benefits.  There is so much I love about Baltimore—our people, our history and the hidden charm in our many neighborhoods. We are a place that, despite the knocks we took this year, is getting better. It is our choice, our charge and our duty to grow opportunity for all for the benefit of all. In the end, that’s what makes for a more just Baltimore.

Scot T. Spencer
Baltimore

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Up From the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
5.Gates

Governance, despite its own hopes for a universality of exclusion, is for the inducted, for those who know how to articulate interests disinterestedly, those who vote and know why they vote (not because someone is black or female but because he or she is smart), who have opinions and want to be taken seriously by serious people. In the mean time, policy must still pursue the quotidian sphere of open secret plans. Policy posits curriculum against study, child development against play, human capital against work. It posits having a voice against hearing voices, networked friending against contractual friendship. Policy posits the public sphere, or the counter public sphere, or the black public sphere, against the illegal occupation of the illegitimately privatized.
—Stephano Harney and Fred Moten, the Undercommons, Fugitive Planning and Black Study

0. I understand fully the role of planner and their potential to offer more to the city than ever before. The situation at the level of the city and state is such that insider information, a history of connections within the system and traditional “good old boy” engagements work somewhat effectively at shaping the city and are perceived as a status quo that can’t be changed. In many of our cities, the opportunity for certain kinds of ascension into leadership works to create a caste system of entitlement and apathy. Art adds the potential for a critique from within, a critique that exists as a para-institutional engagement harnessing similar power structures and potentially even mimicking structures in order to advance the possibilities that exist for our city’s futures.

There will be no great future city without hacking the systems of power.
1. A just city requires counter-balance. It requires clear knowing of how governance works with an understanding that power corrupts and power constantly needs to be checked by other powers (people power, political power, ethical persuasion, public outcry). A just city requires that those who do not understand their power and feel cheated out of the right to publicly demonstrate their power are given channels and platforms by which to engage. The constant non-engagement between classes, races, political camps and social structures and the intentional separations that happen in micro-units of cities—and, in some cases, whole cities—will not only work against the possibility of a just city, it will signify the concretization unjust, uneven, unethical city.

2. The possibility that artists would contribute in the substantial transformation of major cities throughout the world is not radical news. What feels radical is the level at which artists rarely benefit from their side.

3. The possibility of the city as form becomes more feasible when the artist has a sense of the possibility of direct engagement with the real. I sense of the value of other forms of production in addition the forms that exist in museums, art forums, galleries and homes. The artists would have a chance to deeply embed him- or herself in the complex politics of a place, the near impossible capacity to reconcile social expectant from social engagements. The city waits with neutral need for its ramparts to be tended, nurtured and altogether revisited.

4. Never plan alone. Plans require idea engagement, public and inner-circle critique, and a way of ensuring that great ideas are great for as many as possible and tailored for communities that want and need planning. Plans grow out of a need to get things done. Getting things done requires lots of permission. Plans are ways of sharing ideas so that there’s consensus and sometimes rebuttal, but at least there’s awareness and hopefully, permission. Even though there are lots of ideas that seem perfect to me for projects that I want to do, I’ve found that the most successful ones are those that are inclusive of other values, opinions and leadership.

5. There was an abandoned building in the city about to be demolished. I, along with 17 developers, looked at the building over 20 years, none of us willing to invest in black space. None of us were willing to imagine new futures for the South Side, or able to imagine making an investment that might not yield a return. We weren’t willing to believe in a place that seemed not to believe in itself, or risk other people’s cash on a dream. We could not consider the possibility that this abandoned building might be the crucial link to the growth and redevelopment of a seemingly infertile land. In a way, the challenge was not the challenge of the building, it was a challenge of seeing—of imagination—on the ocular prescription one has. These days, I don’t see as well as I used to. I’ve learned that the blur sometimes makes things more beautiful; it may possibly even bring other things into greater focus. The impossibility of seeing is one of the major challenges of the built world.

6. This moment is ripe for new ways of imagining the form, the materials through which we address the form and the situations through which the form is conceived, exhibited, made visible and legible. The moment is ripe to new ways of imagining who participates in the inception of the form. The city is form and raw material and the location of possibility and the consciousness of our age. The city needs sculpture and praxis; it needs wedging and heat. The city is in the difficult position of no longer knowing itself or its virtues. It has suitors who are not fashioning futures, but instead fashioning wealth generation. If the sculptor is absent from this work, what we will have instead of the beautiful is the most efficient, the cheapest and most extravagant, ideas generated by those who pay not those who feel. The sculptor and the policy expert and the planner together make great cities. They share agency and resource, and stand strong together with ideology and a willingness to have sympathy for the vocations. When our administrations realize the potency of artistic and policy based collaborations, truly transformative works will happen: works that go far beyond mural making and public art programs; the type of work that might allow for innovations in professional bureaucracy.

7. At my undergraduate university, the School of Architecture was on the 5th floor, the Planning Program on the 3rd floor, and the Arts Programming in the basement. We all used to joke that our placement was an announcement of caste, of where we stood in the world; a hierarchy had been made clear. As a result of the professionalization of our creative selves, we were never able to really see how we were all cut from similar cloth, and that if we were to share the same libraries, skill sets, rigor, and lunch rooms, that we could in fact explode any one of the vocations we had set ourselves to do.

8. There should be more female and queer leadership in the just city.  We need leadership that has the potential to ask new questions of the status quo and demand a more complicated set of determinations and willingness to invest in non-hierarchal structures. Leadership that also expects more from the men we work for. By challenging their assumptions and biases, we make room for an open critique of systems of power and pathways for understanding sharing, empathy, public participation and inclusion alongside land use futures, zoning policy and fiscal allocations.

9. There will be no great future city without hacking the systems of power. Policy is simply a way of ensuring legal process around things that matter. Sometimes our ideas need to push the policy envelope a little. I always imagine that this is part of what policy should do: it should capture the needs of communities that change. Policy, like communities, has to be dynamic if it is to capture that possibility of a just city. It has to keep looking for the nuance with the systems of governance to make our cities work better.

Theaster Gates
Chicago

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives 

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
18. MooreIt was close to midnight. A youngish, jovial-looking white woman with russet colored hair ran by me with ostensive ease. She donned earphones and dark, body-fitting jogging attire. I was walking home from the A train stop and along Lewis Avenue, which is a moderately busy thoroughfare that runs through the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood in central Brooklyn, where I live.

Integrated neighborhoods are beautiful expressions of community when, in fact, all members are seen as worthy of police protection or respect from business owners.
Lewis runs parallel to Marcus Garvey. Black. Two avenues to the right is Malcolm X Boulevard.  It’s Black. Fulton Street. Atlantic Avenue. The B15 bus. Bedford Avenue. Marcy Projects. Brownstoners. The C train. Working class renters. Peaches Restaurant. June Jordan. Livery taxis. Restoration Plaza. Jay-Z. Bed-Stuy is quite black. I am, too.

Encountering the strange sight of a white woman running without care on a street in a section of our borough once considered an unredeemable “hood” terrified me. She ran pass the new eateries and grocery shops that sell organic and specialty foods. Within a span of a few blocks, residents and visitors now have their choice of premium Mexican eats, brick oven pizza or freshly baked scones with artisan coffee. Citi Bike racks and skateboard riding hipsters adorn the now buzzing thoroughfare. To many, our part of BedStuy may appear safer, cleaner, and whiter.

And, yet, I was still terrified. It was midnight. Black boys and men have been killed throughout the history of the U.S. for being less close to and observant of white women’s bodies as I was that late evening.

Shortly after I passed by with the white woman jogger, my close friend, Marcus, who lives in walking distance from me—closer to a densely populated public housing development—lamented about the lingering tremors of gentrification. Citing the presumed changes in racial demographics, renovated housing options, and increased business development efforts, Marcus hinted at the frustration of black communities undergoing rapid and contested transformation.

He came upon a flier that was fastened to a tree. According to Marcus, the New York Police Department (NYPD) precinct near his building created a “wanted” sign that was posted not too far from where he lived. The “wanted” were a few black men who allegedly robbed a neighbor. The neighbor was white.

Never before, in the several years Marcus had lived in Bed-Stuy, had he seen anything similar. There were no signs made after black teens were shot or robbed. There were no cries for the “wanted” after black women and girls were sexually assaulted or followed home by a predator. There was no indication of concern for black people besides the ever-present anxiety black bodies seem to cause both to the state and to white people when they dwell en masse in the hood. A cursory review of NYPD’s data on the disproportionate and deleterious impact of stop, question and frisk procedures and broken windows policing on black communities is but one example. Marcus’s critique resonated because it illuminated the ways the state and its citizenry afford value to white lives.

Hence, the reason for selecting the vignettes I’ve opened with here. In both scenes, white bodies signify worth and, therefore, are always centered in our collective imagination. They are esteemed commodities, especially in black spaces—that is, neighborhoods and other publics mostly inhabited and culturally shaped by a majority black populace. Thus, any dreamed and invented “just city” that is structured by a set of race ideologies that do not factor in the hyper-mattering of white lives and the perceived worthlessness of black and brown lives is not “just” at all. That is why catch phrases like “community development” or “urban planning and design” can be counterproductive if, in fact, one’s praxis is not guided by a commitment to a type of transformative work grounded in the belief that black lives actually matter.

The connection between space and race became clearer to me after visiting Ferguson, MO, shortly after 18-year old Mike Brown, Jr. was fatally shot by police officerDarren Wilson. Standing in the same street where Brown’s bloodied body had been left uncovered for four hours—in view of his family and neighbors—forced me to question the extent to which ideas about race and space collude to create precarious lives for black and brown people. In an essay titled “The Price of Blackness: From Ferguson to Bed-Stuy” originally published at The Feminist Wire shortly after my return, I wrote, “Changes in the racial composition of towns precipitate changes in the ways black bodies are policed and valued in many neighborhoods.”

I was drawn to the horrific events unfolding in Ferguson because it occurred to me that Ferguson — like some neighborhoods in New York City, Chicago, Oakland and elsewhere —have not only experienced shifts in its racial composition, but also have undergone changes in government leadership, laws, policing practices and economics that inevitably impact black and poor people.

Mike Brown’s death was a unique tragedy that occurred within a specific place and time, but the conditions within which it took place are mundane and, seemingly, quintessential characteristics of gentrified black spaces. This led me to postulate, “Black lives and white lives are differently valued and are, therefore, differently impacted under the conditions of white racial supremacy across the country.” Thus, beyond the noticeable changes—such as the movement of more white people into otherwise black neighborhoods—the insidious aspect of gentrification is the seeming logic of white significance and black worthlessness that underwrites the process.

“My brief time in Ferguson prompted me to consider the many ways Mike Brown’s death, and life, was warped by the structural conditions mentioned above—all emanating from what scholar George Lipsitz aptly calls the ‘possessive investment in whiteness,’” I concluded upon my return from Ferguson. “Such investments in whiteness, which impact everything from access to housing markets to points of educational access for black people across the country, must also be considered alongside the mundane incidents of police violence and hyper criminalization in the U.S.”

But police violence is one lens through which we can assess the connection between race and space, whether in Ferguson or Brooklyn. 16-year old Kimani Gray was shot and killed by a member of NYPD in the Flatbush neighborhood of Brooklyn in March 2013. Flatbush is not too far from Bed-Stuy. Like Bed-Stuy, it is a neighborhood that has experienced an increase in its white populace. While some may argue that the increased number of white people in black spaces is the singular problem, I contend the public should be concerned with the problematic ways whiteness functions as a signifier. As I’ve written elsewhere: 

The more insidious problem is the belief that whiteness at all times and in all places signifies safety and bounty and, therefore, represents a site of investment: new stores selling expensive items begin emerging; the same stores stay open (the doors and not just side windows) twenty-four hours; realtors finally begin to take an interest in property sales; nameless and faceless ‘investors’ begin leaving cheap flyers on stoops or in mailboxes promising cash for homes. Safety becomes a relative experience when gentrification occurs. The presence of white people almost always guarantees the increased presence of resources, like police, which does not always guarantee safety for black people in those same spaces.

A “just city,” then, is a space where one’s hued flesh does not determine one’s full or limited access to equity and safety in communities where she or he lives and works. To vision and create the type of city that is not a built rendition of the biased ideologies we maintain requires a liberated imagination, but we can only free our minds from the chains of anti-blackness and classism when we first acknowledge each has its hold on us. An expanded public dialogue is necessary for us to arrive at this set of shared understandings.

The current movement for black lives is a perfect backdrop for a conversation on reimagined cities that needs to move from the halls of think tanks and municipal development offices to the streets and neighborhoods where all manner of black people dwell.

Imagine dialogues on neighborhood development and urban design occurring among protest participants. Imagine planned public talks hosted on neighbors’ stoops or in the foyers of housing projects. Imagine democratized approaches to urban planning that begins with the people,not the corporate class. Imagine the embedding of urban planners within movement collectives combatting anti-black racism and state sanctioned violence from Ferguson to Flatbush. That type of work is characteristic of the critical first steps needed to inform the creation of the “just” city.

We have reached a critical juncture in the U.S. Indeed, if the Black Lives Matter iteration of the long struggle for black liberation in this country has done nothing else, it has reminded us that the fight for a new, black-loving and just world is an ideological and material struggle. Our public ethos begets our public spaces. And we need unjust spaces no more.

Instead, we need neighborhoods where the value afforded to inhabitants is not based on the color of their skin, or presumed or actual gender expression and sexual identity. Integrated neighborhoods are beautiful expressions of community when, in fact, all members are seen as worthy of police protection or respect from business owners.

In my imagination, a safe and materially just black space is one where residents, whether homeowners or renters, are actually asked about the changes they’d like to see occur. Citi Bike representatives would knock on doors and assess residents’ levels of comfort and desires before placing hordes of bikes on street corners where car services would previously park in wait for residents en route to their jobs, the market, or doctors’ offices. I heard that particular complaint on my block.

In a “just city” residents can actually afford food at eateries and wares sold at businesses in their neighborhoods and, even more,  they are provided access to services so they too can create businesses in the very locales they reside.

I want to live in neighborhood where mostly white police officers do not see or treat me like a potential threat when walking home while my new white neighbors are offered respect regardless of their too loud parties or strong smell of marijuana coming from their direction. I’ve experienced or witnessed all of the above.

I imagine neighborhoods my physically disabled friends can maneuver through with greater ease. My South African wheelchair-bound mentee could not visit me in New York City because it would have been hard for him to make it through most of the city, including my neighborhood, without encountering a range of obstacles.

A safe and equitable space is one that centers the needs and desires of all residents regardless of race, gender, ability, income, or sexual identity. And in the cases when design and redevelopment revolve around those typically centered in the public imagination—characteristically white, sometimes heterosexual, nearly always abled-bodied people with wealth or access to other forms capital—the work must be recalibrated. Yet the only way these forms of erasure can be assessed is by ensuring the group assembled at the planning table is as diverse as the communities it aims to reimagine and rebuild.

The public and private sectors will remain complicit in the creation of inequitable communities as long as both benefit from the structural inequities that surface as a result of race, class, and other forms of stratification. And that is not just.

Darnell L. Moore
New York

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Why Design Matters

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
24. SchupbachMy vision for a just city is one where design and its power as a tool against inequality is leveraged for the benefit of all residents. As the director of design programs at the National Endowment for Arts, and one of the U.S. government’s primary advocates for good design, I spend a lot of time with mayors and other leaders advocating for the power of design. In the words of Charleston, South Carolina Mayor Joseph Riley, a mayor is “the chief urban designer” of his or her city.  Even so, most mayors require education on what design can do—and what it cannot do.

Why does design matter to the just city? 

Residents must be part of the urban design process. They must not only demand good design but also support and reward it.  History has shown good design does not happen without public input.
Design matters because design is all around us. Every object, place and many experiences are designed. Design is a problem-solving tool that transforms an idea into reality. Good designers take their creative genius, apply it to the most difficult problems in our lives and come up with solutions that are sensitive to people’s needs, efficient, and ultimately cost-effective.  A recent British government study showed that every one pound invested in effective design yielded 26 pounds in savings.

Yet there are forces of inequality that are outside design’s reach as a tool. A just city will have fairer tax and fee codes to balance community resources for all of its citizens. A just city will crack down on predatory lending and other detrimental banking practices.  A more just city will have better paying jobs to help lift people out of poverty. A more just city will listen to the #Blacklivesmatter protestors and look at policies to address the unjust penal and policing system.  None of those are design issues.  Still, design can play a role. Here’s how:

Creating a better public realm: Mayor Riley likes to talk about how every citizen’s heart deserves to sing in public spaces. These are the spaces in the city that all of us own—the places where we can mix and build understanding across economic and racial barriers.  It is vitally important that they are designed the right way, and often, they are not. How a building meets the street matters, the materials you use matter, and the scale and size of spaces and buildings matter. It has been proven that better designed streetscapes and public spaces typically have less crime, higher pedestrian activity and increased economic activity.  If done correctly, public space can also have multiple other benefits too, such as the Main Terrian park in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which cleaned up a polluted site in a historically disadvantaged neighborhood (environmental justice benefit) and has public art that encourages exercise (public health benefits).

Many people (and NEA grantees) across the country are dedicated to making better public spaces. I advise you to go seek out their suggestions. It is important you empower not only the designer in the creation of public space but also the public at the same time.

Maintaining infrastructure: The maintenance of the designed part of cities, the buildings and infrastructure, matters. It shows respect for the entire public when you respect the public space. A just city is well-maintained across all of its neighborhoods. At the most basic level, the public infrastructure needs to work. Public water systems impact public health. Street lights lead to safety. It is all connected. Dr. Mindy Fullilove urgently talks about how the aging lead pipes in historically underserved neighborhoods are poisoning the children and holding them back in educational ability—maintenance matters. Even where you put flood infrastructure matters. In Fargo, ND, the huge drainage basins they built in response to the disastrous flooding of the Red River tore apart some of the most disadvantaged neighborhoods. To fix this mistake, they have used NEA funds to work with artists and designers to rethink the spaces as community commons for the neighborhoods—spaces to gather and be active that can also flood.

Improving connectivity: Transportation is a design issue. It helps determine street life, walkability and much more. Because of the gentrification of strong market cities and the hollowing out of the inner core of weak market cities, many lower income people have moved to the first ring of suburbs, which are often poorly served by public transit. This trend means if they do not have cars, they are unable to easily access the economic centers of their community. Some cities are responding to this trend better than others. In Atlanta, there are stories of people taking Uber to the nearest bus line because it is not walkable. Whereas in Houston, the city is redoing all of its bus lines—literally throwing out the map and starting over – in order to better serve lower income residents. What it all boils down to is people need to be able to get to jobs, and not everyone can afford a car and gas.  If we want to create accessible cities with economic opportunity for all, we must design better transportation systems.

Zoning for progress: There may be no topic more important to urban designers and more impenetrable to the public than zoning. These are the laws that regulate land use in most of America. They must be modernized if we want to build thriving, inclusive neighborhoods. Too many communities try to work within outdated regulations instead of tackling the issue head on, or they use zoning as a way to keep existing power systems in place—regulating affordable housing out of communities, for instance. It is a tool that must be used carefully though, as evidenced by the recent backlash to the rezoning plans in New York City. The intention was to help the market build more affordable housing, but instead the plans have led to a gold rush of speculation of the existing properties and begun to price out longtime residents.

Engaging all residents: Residents must be part of the urban design process. They must not only demand good design but also support and reward it.  History has shown good design does not happen without public input.  Most of the design people I know who care about inequality are asking important questions right now: When does design matter to the civic engagement process? How can it give voice to the previously unheard or underserved? How can design help them take control of the development decisions in their own neighborhoods?  We at the NEA are working with field partners to expand on what we already know: designers can help residents see what proposed change could look like sooner rather than later through temporary or inexpensive installations, and design processes can help residents envision their own future in inventive ways.  I suggest you check out the work of the Kounkuey Design Initiative in the Coachella Valley in California to get a sense of what design can do to engage and give voice to residents. They are one of many designers working in this space.

Experiment: We all know that there is limited funding out there to support our cities. To combat this, be experimental.  Try small things.  There has been an explosion of “tactical urbanism”—a fancy term for small temporary projects—happening across the nation in which designers and others act on their own initiatives to solve urban problems. Parking Day is one example of such works—it’s when people create a temporary park in a parking space.  While some probably think these projects do not address the big issues needed to be addressed in a just city, I have seen many of them impact their communities in important ways, such as the Market Street Prototyping Festival in San Francisco, in which the Planning Office is using temporary experiments to learn about what works before they undertake a massive rebuilding of the street. We’re seeing experiments all over the place and in unexpected places—take the work of Emily Roush-Elliot, an Enterprise Rose Fellow working closely with residents of Greenwood, MS.  As a first step to engage this historically disadvantaged African-American community, Emily and her co-workers took a muddy lot and, using a few concrete pavers and some benches, created a small new park.  This space brought residents out of their homes to discuss housing and economic needs and set forward a whole series of activities that are chipping away at years of disinvestment and distrust. Inequality will die from a thousand cuts, not a silver bullet.

Don’t forget about beauty: Aesthetics are subjective, but good design is not. In 2010, the Knight “Soul of the Community” study investigated just why people move somewhere. It asked the question: “Great schools, good transit, affordable health care and safe streets all help create strong communities. But is there something deeper that draws people to a city—that makes them want to put down roots and build a life?” After interviewing more than 40,000 residents over three years, the top three answers for why someone loves living in a place shocked almost everyone—they are “social offerings, openness, and aesthetics.” Doesn’t a just city build the place that people want to love? Don’t all residents deserve beauty? Many people have made the case as to why beauty is a tool for justice—the most famous being Elaine Scarry in her landmark work “On Beauty and Being Just.” While it is a must read, I do prefer the TED talk of another author in this series, Theaster Gates, who, amongst other ideas, makes a great case for how beauty begets beauty; beauty is a positive beacon shining a light to show that change is possible, and hence beauty can change how people act.

Design Matters

Remember, design is a tool—not a solution.  It is imperative that when trying to build a more just city you remember the anthropological history of a place and understand what has shaped it up to this point. Any leader or resident or designer must dig into the history of a place and look at the policies that have shaped it. If you do that and use the tools of design the right way, I am convinced that design will matter, that engaging smart designers will help as we try to bend the arc of history towards just cities.

Jason Schupbach
Washington

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
19. Griffin_RE
When I think about the just city, it’s always black and white

I was born in Chicago the evening before President Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 into law. Growing up on the south side of Chicago meant that on an average day, I rarely saw or interacted with a person who didn’t look like me. All of my basic needs were met on the south side of Chicago—schooling, shopping, summer jobs, recreation and entertainment. My teachers were predominately black, and my classmates were 98 percent black. This environment did not make me feel isolated, segregated or unusual—I just felt normal.

I offer ten values as my initial metrics for designing for the just city.
Television was my only reminder that I was a “minority”. While I did not regularly see people who looked like me on TV, this didn’t stop me from deciding at the age of 14 that I wanted to be an architect—just like Mike Brady, patriarch of “The Brady Bunch.” By the time I entered college at the University of Notre Dame—and the field of architecture—my context became the exact opposite. For the first time in my life, I actually felt like a minority. And today, professionally, I remain a minority in my chosen field. I am the only African-American full-time faculty member at the City College of New York’s School of Architecture, and one of less than 300 African-American women to be licensed in the United States.

My just city is black and white because I grew up in a racially segregated city

I certainly did not realize how much of an impact Chicago’s urban form and spatial patterns would have on my perspective about cities. Nor was I aware of the profound impact that Chicago would have on my interactions with fellow urbanites and the work to which I would come to devote my career.

My work in architecture, urban design and urban planning spans several cities in the U.S., including Chicago, New York, Washington, Newark, Detroit and Memphis. All of these cities have similar racial patterns of segregation, and all have similar urban conditions, thanks to the impact of segregation on people and place. I would eventually come to know these urban conditions as the environments of social and spatial injustice. I now simply call them the conditions of urban injustice or justice. I define urban justice as the factors that contribute to our economic, human health, civic and cultural well-being, as well as the factors that contribute to the environmental and aesthetic health of the built environment.

There are three conditions of urban injustice that I always seem to confront in my work in cities—conditions that began to reach the height of national awareness at the time of my birth in 1960s Chicago.

The first urban injustice condition is concentrated poverty

On the ground, spatial segregation has created pockets of concentrated poverty in our cities that, in turn, have created spatial and social isolation of those cities’ residents. Over multiple generations, this isolation has had a devastating impact on family structures, social networks, educational systems and access to economic opportunity.

For example, in Newark, N.J., where I served as the director of planning and community development for newly elected Mayor Cory Booker between 2007 and 2009, nearly 50 percent of all the people living in the central ward of the city lived in poverty, a condition that has persisted since a federal slum clearance boundary was drawn around the same area in 1961 and which suggests multiple generations of concentrated poverty.

The second urban injustice condition is disinvestment, crime and the architecture of fear

In the mid-1960s, attempts were made to revitalize the center city through programs such as Model Cities, a federal program that brought funding for redevelopment into communities with the greatest social and physical deterioration. However, the civil unrest of 1967 deepened disinvestment, and the city’s reputation for high crime and political corruption limited its ability to attract widespread capital investment for many decades.

At the height of disinvestment and the federal programs designed to reverse this trend, including Model Cities and Urban Renewal, developers and institutions that felt unable to control the disinvested and crime-ridden environments around their land holdings directed architects to protect them from the adjacent urban decay via windowless recreation centers to keep children safe, elevated and enclosed skywalks from Newark Penn Station to the Gateway Center office campus that removed people from the dangerous streets, and a public community college constructed with uninviting, barrier-like building materials that created a fortress, protecting knowledge from the very public it was situated to serve.

And the third urban injustice condition is socio-economic division

From 2000 to 2006, while serving as deputy planning director under Washington Mayor Anthony A. Williams, I saw that spatial segregation sharply divided the city along the north-south axis marked by Rock Creek Park and the Potomac River, separating rich and poor residents by employment status, income and educational attainment. Fifteen years later, residents of color see that this dividing line is pushing swiftly eastward; they fear they will be pushed across the Anacostia River and, ultimately, outside the city limits.

My just city is also for women, children and people of color (or what the PolicyLink CEO, Angela Blackwell Glover, calls “the least not”)

At the center of these environments of urban injustice, I find an increasing number of women, children, immigrants and people of color struggling to stake their claim in the just city. National trends report that women are poorer than men in all racial and ethnic categories. Some 75 percent of all women in poverty are single, with over a quarter of these women being single mothers, according to the Center for American Progress. Nearly a third of all children in this country live in poverty, giving the U.S. the sixth highest poverty rate for children out of the forty-one wealthiest countries worldwide, according to UNICEF.

Since the start of the 2008 recession, more millennials and a widening spectrum of working folks previously perceived as middle-class are finding it harder to maintain the things we have always associated with a middle-class lifestyle: a decent salary that enabled access to affordable housing in a livable community and to services and amenities in proximity to one’s home or work. In 1967, 53 percent of Americans were in the middle class, classified as earning between $35,000-$100,000, but by 2013, only 43 percent of Americans fit this category, The New York Times reported in 2015.

And more recently, the televised exposure of the unspoken, underestimated, often disbelieved struggle for civil rights by a cohort of people based on their gender, sexuality and/or race reminds us that the good intentions put into law the day after my birth, and those since, have not yet been fully realized and/or continue to be challenged. Many people in this cohort do not have confidence in their right to ownership, inclusion and belonging to the public spaces of the city because of the frequent reminders expressed by those who presume to judge and challenge those rights.

But I am optimistic about cities—American cities, in particular—and our collective ability to facilitate and create greater urban justice for all.

I don’t want my just city to be just black and white

I am optimistic and, once again, inspired by television and pop culture. I watch the new show “Blackish” and enjoy how brilliantly it exposes the generational gaps between the parents, who are my age, and their children, as well as between the children and their grandparents. It reveals how middle-class African-American parents can afford to expose their children to a world that in many cases is broader, with greater global access to opportunity and diversity than our own upbringing, and without the baggage of racial limitations. However, at the same time, the parents—and especially the father—hold tightly to the racial lenses through which they grew up viewing the world, as well as the cultural self-identities we of this generation still desperately want acknowledged and integrated into the American cultural normative.

I am also optimistic because of my work as the founding director of the J. Max Bond Center on Design for the Just City at the Spitzer School of Architecture, The City College of New York. The Center is named after famed African-American architect, J. Max Bond, who was the cousin of civil rights activist Julian Bond, who recently passed away. Max Bond viewed architecture as a social art, one with a responsibility to design the built environment in a manner that expresses the cultural traditions, needs and aspirations of our society.

Inspired by his position and my own belief that design can have an impact on urban justice, both the Center and a graduate seminar course I developed of the same name aim to examine the unresolved issues of race, equity, inclusion, ownership and participation in urban communities; to create a clear definition of the just city; and to develop a set of evaluation metrics that assess the effectiveness of design tactics in facilitating urban justice. I have taught the class over four semesters with 45 students in total (five African-Americans, 10 foreign-born students, four openly LGBTQ students, 19 women and 26 men). Each semester, the students’ observations and discussions remind me of the black-white lenses through which I view the world, and have awakened my desire and need to broaden the prescription of those lenses and widen my view of the just city to incorporate other racial, ethnic, gender and generational perspectives.

In the end, I want more than a livable city, more than a sustainable city, more than a resilient city. I want more than equality, which doesn’t always account for the limitations, disadvantages, or, in some cases, the privileges that render the positions of some in the city unequal.

I want a just city where all people, but especially “the least not,” are included, have equitable and inclusive access to the opportunities and tools that allow them to be productive, to thrive, to excel and to advance through the social and economic ranks of social and economic

Within my work as a practitioner, educator and researcher, I believe I have tried to create places and spaces that promote greater urban justice. Over my career, I have worked on the redevelopment of the Anacostia Waterfront in Washington, where our aim was to direct the city’s growth in a manner that would include existing Washingtonians; I have changed land use and zoning regulations to support higher quality infill housing design standards; and I have created a comprehensive and integrated citywide framework for new neighborhood typologies and reconfigured infrastructure systems to support shifting demographics of Detroit. I believe my intention was to create a more just city, even though I would not have used this term to describe my intentions.

As a reflection on the impacts of these and other design and planning efforts with which I have been involved, I feel the pressing need to become more articulate about the specific impacts of my design work on facilitating my vision for the just city. To do this, I realized that I must first create a clear definition of what it means to have this just city. So, as I look to assess the impact of my past projects, and to work with greater clarity to continue my quest for equitable and inclusive access for all, I offer these ten values as my initial metrics for designing for the just city.

1. Equity – The distribution of material and non-material goods in a manner that brings the greatest benefit required to any particular community.

2. Choice – The ability for any and all communities to make selections among a variety of options including places, programs, amenities and decisions.

3. Access – Convenient proximity to, presence of, and/or connectivity to basic needs, quality amenities, choices, opportunities and decisions.

4. Connectivity – A social or spatial network tying people and places together, providing access and opportunity for all.

5. Ownership – The ability to have a stake in a process, outcome or material good, such as property.

6. Diversity – Acceptance of different programs, people and cultural norms in the built environment and decision-making processes.

7. Participation – The requirement and acceptance of different voices and the active engagement of both Individuals and communities in matters affecting social and spatial well-being.

8. Inclusion and Belonging – The acceptance of difference, the intention to involve diverse opinions, attitudes and behaviors, and the ability of spaces to engender integration, fellowship and safety.

9. Beauty – Everyone’s right to well-made, well-designed environments.

10. Creative innovation – Nurturing ingenuity in problem solving and interventions that improve place.

By offering these values, I know I run the risk of communicating a top-down proclamation, implying a city is not just unless it succeeds at these specific values. Quite the contrary—I believe it is imperative that each city or community decide for itself what values is should assign to become more just. I only insist that there be clear intention, expressed through a clear and collectively developed definition, so that when we achieve the just city, we will know it when we see it.

Toni L. Griffin
New York

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
13.Thompson-FulliloveIn 1993 or thereabouts I entered a contest for women to depict what they did on a particular day. That day, I went to meetings early in the morning at Harlem Hospital. I took photos of the abandoned buildings on West 136th, where I parked my car, and photos of a huge plastic bag in one of the stunted trees. Later, on my way back to my office on W. 166th Street, I stopped to take a photo of man who was selling nuts on the street in front of a burned-out building.  He smiled with tremendous pride—when I took him a copy of the photo a few weeks later, he grinned and said he’d send it to his mother so she would know he was trying to make something of himself. There were photos of the Stuyvesant High School students that I was mentoring for the Westinghouse Science Competition, and photos at home in Hoboken with my daughter Molly and some chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. We were reading Ian Frazier’s New Yorker article about plastic bags in trees. I didn’t win the contest, but the exercise etched what I saw in memory.

The extreme commodification of the land is leading to the destruction of human habitat. It is inimical to public health to sell off our neighborhoods and displace our communities.
Harlem had been devastated by decades of policies of disinvestment. Walking the streets was a painful experience because so many of the buildings had been burned out, and garbage blew in the courtyards and rats ran in and out. Working people were struggling to control the neighborhood, but drugs and violence were the order of the day. Most of my research was focused on describing the problems in front of me—filling out our understanding of a terrible statistic reported in 1990 by Drs. Harold Freeman and Colin McCord: that a black man living in Harlem had a shorter life expectancy than a man in Bangalesh, at that time the poorest country on earth. Some of what I wanted to describe was the historical process that had stripped this neighborhood of its life-giving qualities. I was describing an unjust city.

The more I learned, the more I realized that urban policies were playing a critical role in the neighborhood’s collapse.  From the stories people told us, I hypothesized that Harlem had collapsed from a series of blows, each one undermining and deforming the social structure, so that death and disorder replaced hope and social productivity. As my colleagues at the Cities Research Group and I deepened our explorations, we were able to name the terrible series of policies—urban renewal, deindustrialization, planned shrinkage, mass incarceration, HOPE VI, the foreclosure crisis and gentrification—that have and continue to undermine poor and minority communities.

We’ve grouped these policies together under the rubric “serial forced displacement.” Displacement traumatizes people and destroys wealth of all kinds.  Repeated displacement takes even more of the wealth and integrity of the weakened population. As St. Matthew put it, “even what he has shall be taken away.” Through the lens of the agony of Harlem, I learned the somber fact that policies that destroy some communities and neighborhoods are catastrophic for the health of those in the direct path of the upheaval, but they also endanger the health of the whole of the US, and through us, the whole world.

Let us take one example, New York City’s implementation of the mid-1970s policy of “planned shrinkage.”  This policy was designed to manage “shrinking population” in the city by “internal resettlement” of people from very poor neighborhoods and clearing the land for later use.  Planned shrinkage was implemented by closing fire stations in those communities.  This triggered a storm of fires: South Bronx neighborhoods lost as much as 80 percent of housing; Harlem lost 30 percent.

We can trace many lines of disruption that rippled out from these epicenters of destruction. The upheaval caused massive social disorder and a “synergism of plagues,” as Rodrick Wallace called it.  What no one knew when the policy was implemented was that a new virus—which we now know as the Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV)—was present in the very poor neighborhoods. HIV began to spread in the South Bronx and other NYC communities.  The crack epidemic took hold, accompanied by massive violence, family disruption, and further spread of HIV infection. Mass incarceration was the federal response to the drug epidemic, unleashing an era of imprisonment that had horrific consequences for families and neighborhoods.  By 2015, The New York Times reported “1.5 million missing black men,” many in prison and others who had died prematurely. Population fell, families fell apart, unemployment grew, church attendance declined, and trauma became a nearly universal experience.

Having hypothesized the downward spiral of community collapse, my team and I realized we had to start searching for ways to rebuild. We worked first with families, then neighborhoods.  But we learned that the fate of neighborhoods rested in the hands of cities. A great deal of our attention has been directed at learning what actions cities could take to counter serial forced displacement and to rebuild the much-needed social bonds.

In 2007, I went to my hometown of Orange, NJ, for a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the fight against school desegregation.  My parents, Ernest and Margaret Thompson, had led that fight. My father went on to organize for the political representation long denied to the African-American population, then 20 percent of the city. In 1958, he and others in Citizens for Representative Government created the “New Day Platform,” which advocated for education, youth recreation, representative government and a more beautiful city hall, among other issues. Their work led to a more inclusive democracy and better schools for all children.

While planning for the celebration of Orange’s desegregation, I learned that a local community development corporation, HANDS, Inc. was continuing the work my father had pioneered.  It was fighting to protect local housing infrastructure and to rebuild community in the face of serial forced displacement. I became so interested in the city of Orange that in 2008 I co-founded the free people’s University of Orange along with Patrick Morrissy, Molly Rose Kaufman, Karen Wells and others.

The University of Orange has participated actively in planning efforts in the city.  The UofO lead the development of the Heart of Orange Plan, which became an official plan in 2010, endorsed by the state of New Jersey Department of Community Affairs, making the area eligible for tax credit monies.  We have also invited architects and urbanists from Columbia University, Parsons The New School for Design, Montclair State University and Pratt Institute to work with us to understand the city. We have slowly developed a sense of the city’s potentials and its vulnerabilities.

Orange grew at the foot of the Watchung Mountains, a crossroads of east-west and north-south movement, in the heart of the Lenapehoking.  Its excellent water and good transportation made it a natural site for industry. Hat making boomed after the Civil War, reaching a peak of 4.2 million hats a year in 1892.  The new bourgeoisie equipped the city with a Stanford White library on a busy Main Street, a Frederick Law Olmsted Park and housing enclave, dozens of churches and synagogues, two settlement houses and a park-like cemetery.  The African-Americans and Irish and Italian immigrants were tucked into ghettoes, their children sent to inferior public schools, while the well-to-do created superb schools and tracks for their own children to prosper.  The city is so packed with the best and worst of American urban accoutrements that the University of Orange has developed a signature tour, called “Everything You Want to Know About the American City You Can Learn in Orange, NJ.”  Orange has the advantage of being a small city, so visitors can see all of this in 2.2 square miles.

But Orange now, like many other postindustrial cities, is worn-out.  Sixty-five percent of the largely black population of 30,000 is poor and working poor. Many residents have immigrated from other countries and they speak a wide array of languages. Orange is a city in search of a future. In New Jersey, such places are being converted by “transit-oriented development,” which means the unskilled workers are being replaced by those who commute to Newark—or more likely New York—to work in finance, insurance and real estate, the FIRE industries post-industrial cities have come to rely on. Orange lies just a bit west of Hoboken, Jersey City and Harrison, FIRE cities already remodeled as dense bedroom communities.

For the people who live in Orange, transit-oriented development would be the next turn of the wheel of serial forced displacement. But it would also mean a loss of the complex vitality of people and institutions. Urban bedroom communities are monocultures, a variation on housing projects, albeit with better amenities.

At the University of Orange, we’ve posed the questions: Can’t we take a more interesting path? Can’t we develop new industries? Can’t we help the workforce acquire skills so that they can compete for higher paying jobs and therefore hold on to their homes when the gentry arrive? Couldn’t we combine of the idea of the civil rights movement’s Freedom Schools and Edison’s concept of the “Factory of Invention” to make a “post-industrial city reimaging lab”?

Some exciting opportunities have opened up that are helping everyone in Orange explore these possibilities. The John S. Watson Center at Thomas Edison State College has helped a consortium of cities, including Orange, develop an economic development strategy that will entitle the cities to apply for new federal funds.  The Board of Education, with the support of nearby Montclair State University, has been able to develop community schools, including adult education.  The University of Orange helps to manage the Adult School, which includes courses for workforce development. The Worldwide Orphans Foundation is bringing its first US-based toy library to Orange, and will be training local people to be toy librarians. At the U of O, we are partnering with a local arts organization and a university to understand how the insertion of a highway in 1970 might be mitigated. This project is supported by Arts Place. What we are learning as we go is that building the just city takes all of us.

When I learned of a Robert Wood Johnson Foundation initiative focused on creating a culture of health in New Jersey, I convinced our local partners that we should apply for funding. The leaders of our “Healthy Orange” coalition will be expanding our connections to all sectors of business, industry and civic organizations and to all the ethnic and religious groups. Our leaders are insisting on engaging the current residents, which is critical in charting a path forward that is not another round of forced displacement. Instead of planning around this pattern of expulsion, we want to create a “plan to stay.”

This concept, first advanced by Catherine Brown and William Morrish, is the antidote to serial forced displacement.  Groups planning to stay are asked to answer two questions:

  • What brought you here?
  • What would it take for you to be able to stay?

These simple questions lead to the kind of complex interventions that have a shot at helping Orange become a healthy place. In the year ahead, I look forward to the work of Healthy Orange, as it brings all voices to the table to create a blueprint for action, continuing the long struggle for equity and democracy in our city. This is how we get to the just city in Orange and everywhere.

But I worry.  One night, in 2010, I was invited to speak in Harlem. I walked down St. Nicholas Avenue, and passed a brand new building.  A gym occupied its first floor and little white girls in pink tutus were doing ballet. I stood there slack-jawed, too stunned to even take a photograph. The old Harlem was truly gone.

It is not simply that I want to feel at home in my hometown—of course I do. Rather, I fear for all of us. The extreme commodification of the land is leading to the destruction of human habitat.  We are literally chopping the ground out from under our feet: it is inimical to public health to sell off our neighborhoods and displace our communities. The 1958 New Day Platform had it right. What we need for public health are ecologically-sensitive and equitable programs that support the whole city and give all of us a chance to live in a kind and beautiful place.

Mindy Thompson Fullilove
New York

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
1.-HodgesThere is a difference between equality and equity. Equality says that everybody can participate in our success and equity says we need to make sure that everybody actually does participate in our success and in our growth. A just city is a city free from both inequity and inequality.

Growth for the sake of growth alone cannot solve inequality and inequity. But solving such inequalities and inequities can spur growth.
We pay a significant price for inequities—in the billions in our cities, in the trillions nationwide. Growth is commonly pointed to as a solution, but growth for the sake of growth alone cannot solve these inequalities and inequities. However, solving these inequalities and inequities gets us growth.

Inequities make our cities risky business ventures. We don’t have the workforce that we need because we are not getting everyone into the workforce; we don’t have the consumer base that we need because not everyone can afford to consume. It creates an atmosphere where people are hesitant to invest because they don’t know if they’re going to have the consumer base or the workforce base that they need.

My city of Minneapolis suffers from some of the largest racial disparities in America on almost any measure: Employment, housing, health, education, incarceration—the list goes on. For example, while 67 percent of white kids graduate on time from Minneapolis Public Schools, only 37 percent of African American and Latino kids do, and just 22 percent of American Indian kids. When you consider that in just a few years, a majority of Minneapolis’ population will be people of color, this disparity is economically unsustainable, in addition to being morally wrong.

Minneapolis is in the midst of a building boom; cranes dot the sky as far as the eye can see. But growth alone can’t solve our equity problem. It’s not turning Minneapolis into a just city, because our current growth doesn’t include everybody.  Even though our overall unemployment rate has declined, the gap between white people and people of color remains the same.

The moral of this story is that if your boat is leaky or you don’t have one to begin with, the rising tide can’t and won’t lift you.

In our just city we must accept that inclusive growth is a better strategy than growth alone. Inclusive growth means that your life outcome is not determined by your race, age, gender, or zip code. Inclusive growth means we aren’t leaving any genius on the table. To achieve this, we need two things: universal shared goals about what we want for ourselves as a people and as a community, and the policies that will ensure that people get there.

What is a universally shared goal? There are a lot of them in America: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, for starters, or dignity for our senior citizens through a safe retirement (Social Security) and accessible, affordable health care (Medicare). Often, we don’t even have to voice shared goals such as these to know that we all want them.

As mayor, one of my jobs is to help make sure that everybody in our community shares our goals as a city and has a say in the goal. Residents must understand that there’s something in it for them. When there’s something in it for everyone, everyone wants that something—and inclusive growth offers something for everyone.

For instance, in my region of Minneapolis–Saint Paul, if we eliminated all disparities by 2040, our regional planning agency estimates that 274,000 fewer people would live in poverty, 171,000 more people would have high school diplomas, 124,000 more people would have jobs—and all of us would benefit from $31.8 billion dollars more in personal income. The same pattern holds true globally—the International Monetary Fund found that for every 10 percent decrease in inequality, the length of periods of economic growth increase by 50 percent. So if we reduce our inequalities, we will grow faster and for longer than if we had done nothing at all. In America, we could add $1.2 trillion to our economy by eliminating inequity. Inclusive growth should be a shared goal—and must be one, if we are truly committed to building a just city.

Inclusive growth requires that we tailor our policies. Let’s say we have a goal: We want everybody to be able to look over a six-foot fence to see a ball game. Folks that are over six feet tall are going to be able to see over that fence without a problem, but because I’m short, I’m going to need a box to stand on to be able to look over that fence.

If we are all invested in making sure that everybody reaches a goal, because we know there’s something in it for all of us—whether we are white people, high-income people, people of color, or lower-income people—then we need to tailor policies to make sure that that happens. The great news is that we have tools to help make this happen.

Education spurs growth—and according to the Federal Reserve, there is a 15-17 percent return on investment for education in early childhood. It is one of the many reasons I started my Cradle to K initiative, which is focused on getting kids aged zero to three the brain development they need so they don’t begin their education at a severe, and often times insurmountable, disadvantage. The initiative is working on closing the word gap, parent involvement, early childhood screening, and improved mental health services.  Now if you couple that with access to affordable childcare, which allows parents to participate in the workforce, and if that childcare becomes child development-centered childcare, you get a win: parents participate in the workforce, and kids get the development-centered childcare that will help them succeed. We can all support that.

In Minneapolis, we are also spending a fair amount of time on removing obstacles that keep people from participating in the workforce and in shared success. For example, we are participating in initiatives like President Obama’s TechHire to make sure people have the right training for the jobs that are available.

Another priority is connecting people to jobs. The data shows that investment in transit creates 31 percent more jobs than investment in roads and bridges, so we are focusing on transit as tool for growth. In Minneapolis and Saint Paul, $2 billion dollars’ worth of private investment was generated around our light rail green line before it even opened in 2014. Transit not only gets people to jobs, but bring jobs to people. That green line light rail serves some of the poorest neighborhoods in Saint Paul, and that development is going where that development is needed most. It’s a tailored strategy that is getting us to our overall goal: people being able to participate in growth.

Entrepreneurship, too, spurs growth. Another one of our universal goals is to dismantle Byzantine barriers to investing in small business. Our Open for Business Minneapolis initiative has completed a stem-to-stern review of all the regulations governing small businesses in Minneapolis to make sure that we’re eliminating the obstacles and we’re getting rid of the roadblocks like unnecessary background checks for specific licenses and increasing the number of inspectors serving the city. Taking this kind of action is good for anyone who wants to invest or develop in our city. It reduces obstacles for everyone. But it especially reduces obstacles for, and spurs investment among, entrepreneurs of color and immigrant entrepreneurs—which spurs growth for everyone, because we know that entrepreneurship in immigrant communities and communities of color is growing far faster than white entrepreneurship.

When it comes to creating a just city, cities alone can’t do it, counties alone can’t do it, the federal government alone can’t do it. We all have to be working to build the relationships and partnerships with advocates, business leaders, federal and state delegations to make sure that we have the same universal goals and that we’re working together to get the ships sailing in the same direction. Building true partnerships across sectors and communities is the hardest thing we have to do, but it’s also the most powerful.

As Mayor it is my job to have the vision. But visions are worthless if you can’t build coalitions necessary to make them realities. Every day I work hard to bring people to the table, to make sure that all voices are not only being represented but heard. I also strongly believe in leading by example. I personally aim to set the standard for inclusive growth. My office is a living testament to what we can achieve.

We are not going to be able to grow our way into equity, but we can leverage equitable strategies to achieve growth. And once we achieve that, we will have a just city.

Mayor Betsy Hodges
Minneapolis

 

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.

Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
See the full list of Essays
Introduction, Toni L. Griffin, Ariella Cohen and David Maddox Tearing down Invisible Walls Defining the Just City Beyond Black and White, Toni L. Griffin In It Together, Lesley Lokko Cape Town Pride. Cape Town Shame, Carla Sutherland Urban Spaces and the Mattering of Black Lives, Darnell Moore Ceci n'est pas une pipe: Unpacking Injustice in Paris, François Mancebo Reinvigorating Democracy Right to the City for All: A Manifesto for Social Justice in an Urban Century, Lorena Zárate How to Build a New Civic Infrastructure, Ben Hecht Turning to the Flip Side, Maruxa Cardama A Just City is Inconceivable without a Just Society, Marcelo Lopes de Souza Public Imagination, Citizenship and an Urgent Call for Justice, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman Designing for Agency Karachi and the Paralysis of Imagination, Mahim Maher Up from the Basement: The Artist and the Making of the Just City, Theaster Gates Justice that Serves People, Not Institutions, Mirna D. Goransky Resistance, Education and the Collective Will, Jack Travis Inclusive Growth The Case for All-In Cities, Angela Glover Blackwell A Democratic Infrastructure for Johannesburg, Benjamin Bradlow Creating Universal Goals for Universal Growth, Betsy Hodges The Long Ride, Scot T. Spencer Turning Migrant Workers into Citizens in Urbanizing China, Pengfei XIE The Big Detox  A City that is Blue, Green and Just All Over, Cecilia P. Herzog An Antidote for the Unjust City: Planning to Stay, Mindy Thompson Fullilove Justice from the Ground Up, Julie Bargmann Elevating Planning and Design Why Design Matters, Jason Schupbach Claiming Participation in Urban Planning and Design as a Right, P.K. Das Home Grown Justice in a Legacy City, Karen Freeman-Wilson Epilogue: Cities in Imagination, David Maddox
10. GoranskyThe purpose of this essay is to share some considerations about the meaning of “just City” from the perspective of a lawyer dedicated to the reform of justice administration and, in particular, to the design of systems that promote, encourage and facilitate the approach of justice for the people. This historically means not only a change in the rules and culture but also a change in the design of the spaces in which justice is administered.

A just city is only achieved when its inhabitants have a sense of belonging, respect for the rights of others and for the place in which they live.
It is also written from the perspective of a city dweller from Buenos Aires, a city in which more than 3 million people live, and where 1.2 million cars and 1.2 million people in public transportation arrive every day from the suburbs. Traffic and traffic violations are one of the most serious problems and affect our everyday life in a dramatic way.

The guiding principle of these reflections is that a just city is only achieved when its inhabitants have a sense of belonging, respect for the rights of others and for the place in which they live. In no other aspect is this clearer than in transit, in which the disregard for the laws brings enormous cost not only in human lives but also can easily become a very heavy burden in everyday life, in which aggression and lawbreakers are the norm. For example, in Argentina it can be said that traffic rules are not respected and more than 7,000 people die each year in traffic accidents, and more than 120,000 are injured in varying degrees. This is one of the highest rates of mortality from traffic accidents and is significantly higher when compared with the rates of other countries in relation to their population and number of cars.

When I think of a just city there are some general issues that arise and are central to its development. First, is the need for an equitable distribution of resources among all the people and neighborhoods, in accordance to fairness.  Fairness does not necessarily mean equal amounts of money everywhere but an adequate amount of resources to ensure that people from all parts of the city have the same opportunities to enjoy the benefits of community life, including access to education, health, safety, justice, etc.

On the other hand, is important to assure the participation of all inhabitants in the management and administration of the city. A just city always has different ways to encourage its citizens to participate in the discussion of the problems that affect them and in the process of decision-making. Therefore there are accessible public spaces designed to appeal to neighbors and to foster community life.

In particular, a just city is a city in which everyone respects the general rules of coexistence, where respect of others and the environment is a shared value. This means some basic things, like speed limits and throwing trash into trashcans and much more complicated matters.

What is important though is that people follow the rules of the city because they recognize the city and its rules as theirs. This is why is so important to have a system that allows people to move around in a friendly environment, otherwise we will have a dangerous, aggressive and corrupt city — corruption starts with small bribes to transit agents.

A just city is also a place where everybody lives safely and the rights of all are respected. That means that ensuring security should not come at the cost of disregarding privacy and intimacy. With accessible new monitoring technologies, the boundaries between privacy and security become complicated. While having a camera on the dashboard of every police vehicle seems like a good idea, the over-extension of surveillance should be at the center of the debate between politicians and inhabitants if we are going to build a just city. Sometimes better lights, more illumination, are all we need to make ours streets more secure and to invite people to walk around at night.

And a just city is conceived and designed for their people to have a simple, economic and fast access to the different areas of public administration. In particular, those responsible for the administration of justice: police, courts, prosecutors, defenders, prisons, etc. The design of each court, each police department and each place of incarceration deserves special attention to ensure that they serve their purpose. For example, the courts must allow the public to sit comfortably and see the way justice is done; the places of incarcerations must assure the dignity of the prisoners; the police departments needs places where victims of crimes can be properly heard, protected and assisted.

Very often judicial buildings are chosen and designed by lawyers formed in systems where justice is kept away from the people. Consequently the buildings are located and designed to meet the needs of those who administer justice and not to those who need justice. Often these buildings and offices are true labyrinths inaccessible for regular people. For example, in Buenos Aires, the Federal Building is far for everything and there is nothing around it — no place to meet people, to have a coffee, is dangerous at night, etc. Buenos Aries’ Justice Palace is a complicated labyrinth were visitors routinely get lost. Only a few years ago an NGO won a case that ordered ramps be built for disabled people entering the building.

In a just city, justice is at the service of the people and with that purpose there is a network of public transportation that communicate all the public services with the different areas of the city, has understandable signs to facilitate the access to the different offices, and has systems that enable the access of people with different capacities. That is why is so important to decentralize the courts and the prosecutors’ offices. Years ago I was in charge of a unit that lead programs in connecting the prosecutors with the community, in the reorganization of the Prosecutors Institution and in the launch of the first-ever decentralized prosecutors office in Buenos Aires. The main goal of all these projects was to strengthen the idea that justice is a public service and to work with people of other disciplines to design institutions that fulfill the needs of all.

And last but not least, a just city is a city that chooses to remember and share its history with the generations to come and exhibits its past in memory sites, in public places in which, at the same time, democratic values ​​and human rights are promoted. In Argentina there are many places where we can learn about what happened during the dictatorship that ruled my country from 1976 to 1983. Clandestine centers of detention where people was detained, tortured and killed are now museums or memorial sites that allow us to know what happened and to say that this will never happened again, never more.

Mirna D. Goransky
Buenos Aires

The Just City Essays is a joint project of The J. Max Bond Center, Next City and The Nature of Cities. © 2015 All rights are reserved.