At a recent event in the Station North neighborhood, I found myself leaning over two strangers – the three of us peering onto a sidewalk lit by blue and red flashing lights and covered in police tape, indicating the newly defined crime scene. Over the pounding music, I instinctively shouted, “dammit, Baltimore!”
“I know, right?” they both responded in unison.
And at that moment where a plate glass window separated blood spatter from dance party, I couldn’t help but think that something in the great scheme of city planning had failed.
It was an annual party of artists ringing in the Chinese new year. Over two hundred people of diverse cultures, professions, races, and ages, and my greatest concern up to that moment had been whether or not my unattended Patagonia jacket would get stolen (it didn’t). A little after midnight, two younger white males, who were not on the guest list, got into an argument. One stabbed the other, and the police refused to let us leave the building. I found myself more shocked at the reaction to the stabbing than to the stabbing itself. The mass reaction was to shrug off the incident, take a breath, and keep dancing. The violence was a run-of-the mill-event – just another side-plot in the script of the evening. In this city, acts of violence in certain areas have become the norm.
As my city planning mind thought over the incident, I found myself distressed at the proximity of the two events. On one side of the glass wall you found a talented group of seemingly trustworthy people – reveling, meeting strangers, wearing plaid and blazers. On the other side of the glass was an environment where violence was regarded as a sensible method of conflict resolution. This event drove home the importance of all-inclusive planning – it isn’t just about space; there’s something deeper that changes action and behavior.
As Baltimore development spreads upward and outward from the CBD, many neighborhoods are regarded as ‘transitional,’ where new blends with old. New developments rest mere blocks away from boarded-up homes and vacants. Early investors know that transitional neighborhoods are risky in the sense that they’ll get better, more stable, and more safe – but they aren’t there yet. In the greater world of neighborhood analysis and community development we often focus on social injustice by comparing opposite ends of the spectrum: rich vs. poor, city vs. suburb, Westside vs. Eastside. In the neighborhoods of transition, however, statistical indicators of household poverty and crime often average out. There is still plenty of social distress; there just may not be enough to get it on the map as a statistical outlier.
Planners fix these things as we are able – we are responsible for the spatial placement of elements that engage others in a meaningful way, in a way which provides identity and pride. But as demonstrated by this violent incident, there’s a missing piece needed to help fix the culture which lags behind the construction. You may be aware of the increasing energies gathering in Baltimore. Facilitated by conferences like Ignite, TedX, and CreateBaltimore, hundreds – yes hundreds – of Baltimore citizens are starting to listen to one another and raise the collective awareness of what’s going on. They’re making connections to add the elements of their own profession to the projects of another. The silos are breaking.
That deeper reading can help all of us turn our attention to the problems that seem so intractable, and the resulting horrors that seem to have become so mundane. Planners are often quick to point to standard markers in creating a safe and prosperous neighborhood:
- “The retail really helped keep that place alive.”
- “That place provided lots of new jobs.”
- “That neighborhood has a really good school.”
But we need to push further, to ask deeper and more powerful questions that take the social context into account:
- Why do people in a retail-anchored area have extra dollars to spend and extra time to go shopping?
- How have the newly-employed people been trained to take advantage of these new opportunities – and can they get to and from work efficiently everyday?
- How are the neighborhood’s parents so supportive, encouraging and involved in their childrens’ lives, making sure they attend school each day?
Taking our initial observations one step further helps us to read a city more completely and through a more powerful lens. Rather than shrugging off that stabbing as just another crime in Baltimore and turn back to our up-and-coming party, we need to ask how poor education, mental illness, work-related stress (or the stress of having no work) may have contributed to that terrifying act of violence. When planners stop looking at a window as merely a question of north or south exposure and start exposing themselves to the complexities of what we see through it, we’ll all start seeing more of the light.
