Planners are People Too
“Regardless of how great a design you have, regardless of how great an idea you can come up with, so long as the baseline remains what it is, you’re always going to have a problem with the design…And the baseline is one that’s mired in racism and classism and, you know, economic terrorism…And so until you shift the baseline to something that is closer to what it ought to be…then every design case you come up with is still going to have the same issue.” — Wendell Joseph
This summer, I had the opportunity to intern with Boston’s Planning and Development Agency (BPDA) designing community engagements. It was one of the most fruitful and instructive experiences I’ve had while at MIT’s Department of Urban Studies and Planning and my first venture into local government. I left the internship experience with some existential questions about democracy.
For starters, I wonder whether democracy always needs to be so confrontational. Most political discussions in the U.S., whether about the budget or taxes or a new development, become one side versus another. Is this necessary? Is there a way for constituents and members of the public to meaningfully express themselves to and with public leaders without a heated and charged debate?
On the one hand, these charged conversations in democracy are about survival. Some of the most ardent and passionate activists and advocates are those groups of people who have been most burned by our history and system. It’s unite or die. A lot of activist action is against expressions of power, whether wielded by the local government, developers, bankers, or others.
Illustrating this, on July 31, I helped the BPDA put on an outdoor summer workshop on neighborhood character in Glover’s Corner. It was intended to be a light-hearted and creative engagement meant to capture neighborhood and community perspectives on urban design–scale, height, and density, for instance. We got a lot of good feedback and ideas on our boards, and yet, ever lurking among the great designs and thoughts were persistent fears: gentrification and displacement.
These are fears about who has power. Fears about who will be denied an opportunity to choose. Fear that the interests of money will overpower the interests of a neighborhood or everyday people.
It’s ironic, because on the other hand, most of the public servants and city planners I met are mission-driven and sincerely value equity and justice. Most planners ended up in the field not because they want to turn a large profit, but because they want to make meaningful change in their community or world. These servants volunteered to be on democracy’s front lines.
And we’re burning them out. Public servants, planners, and the activists who want to bridge local government and community interests have become the punching bag of our democratic angst. They straddle the professional responsibilities of representing a heavy-handed institution with a personal commitment to amplify community concerns.
This is what Wendell Joseph was getting at in the latest podcast episode. The kinds of public processes and infrastructure we need in this country have to be founded on trust. They need ongoing relationships and not fragmented arguments. Not only that, but we need a forum where wounds can be allowed to heal.
Back to my question: I don’t think democracy has to be confrontational. But it does mean confronting and challenging our collective histories, traditions, and struggles. The truth is that our democratic outlets are failing both people at the margins and the planners and activists fighting for meaningful change. Until we have the space in which to grapple with our lasting legacies and today’s troubles, our democracy will continue to languish.
Originally published at themove.mit.edu on September 13, 2018.
