Comments on: The Architecture of Our Psychological Health

By: Robyn Stegman

Robyn Stegman — Mon, 21 Oct 2013 16:54:46 +0000

Even though there are a lot of boarded up row homes doesn’t mean that those places aren’t full of life.

Sure, the narrative you see is boarded up row homes, crime, poor health but that’s not the only narrative of those communities. I’ve had a chance to go and meet some residents of Middle East this past week and I would say there is definitely vibrancy there. Both Adam’s and Lindsay’s article makes me think of Detroit where narratives of urban blight and crime live right on top of narratives of Detroit’s hay day and those communities still left today. Adam’s example about the house is a great example of this – your favorite places and least favorite places often times lives together.

Should we tear down plantation houses because of the long history of slavery? I see few arguments for that. Every historic place is home to an abundance of narratives. So which narrative wins out?

When you destroy those homes, you can never get that positive narrative back. You are instead imposing a new one, one that often times does not include the community that was there before. At least from what I’ve seen in Baltimore when developers plow down row homes, it isn’t for the communities who already live in those areas. We’re not talking about destroying “institutional memory,” when we tear down row homes, we’re talking about destroying communities and destroying a tie to that place.

Adam makes a good point in this piece – “Certainly not in isolation, but if it buys/rents you a decent place on an attractive street in a part of the city with strong civic engagement, then you’ve probably got a head-start on happiness compared to someone who lives sandwiched between abandoned buildings, has to rely on an unpredictable bus system to get to their job, and lives in one of only a half dozen occupied homes in a three block radius.”

Destroying row homes doesn’t solve the fact that our transportation system isn’t serving those in poverty, those in communities that don’t have a strong voice to advocate for options. Destroying row homes displaces the few people left in the community advocating for change. Those remaining in row homes are also not going to invest in the properties they have for fear that their home too will be knocked over for a new development.

Certainly we need to address the serious problems of vacancies in Baltimore but I think we need to do that by celebrating and helping the communities already there. The strong positive narratives that rarely see the light of day in this city. Instead of paving over and starting anew.

By: thegoodplan

thegoodplan — Mon, 21 Oct 2013 15:34:38 +0000

I remember spending a bit of time in a South African township and talking to residents about how many of them have the opportunity to move out of the physically removed, low lying, dry dusty area. The residents told me that they wouldn’t want to leave. This was their home- this is where their families are. That said, these places were occupied, full of life, colorful. Far removed and poor, yes, but alive. The places I pointed to aren’t full of life- they’re deserted and dead. There isn’t the sense of ownership needed to make a place live again. I’ve been in quite a few slums where there’s vitality and good and happiness, too – so there’s a factor of ‘person’ that we’re leaving out. There are health issues associated with each (high density v. low density). So Adam, I wonder, what do we do in a place where people are poor, happy, and unhealthy? Do we forcibly remove them to a new place where there is clean water, grocery stores, and an intact sewage system? In which case is the psychological damage worse, even though the actual scientific health is better?

By: Adam Conway

Adam Conway — Fri, 18 Oct 2013 15:09:47 +0000

A fair point, and should have clarified that I don’t believe for a second that health, wealth, or housing status are simple inputs to happiness or other beneficial outcomes (the “better” one is in each category, the “better” you will be as a person is an equation that is flawed in it’s makeup).
Instead, I am thinking more in terms of the nature vs. nurture equation. Apparently genetic makeup predisposes us about 75% of the way, but nurture’s 25% are heavy hitting percentage points. The outcomes are anything but guaranteed- evidenced by wealthy drug-addicted dropouts and professors born in squalor- and I am not proposing that any home or neighborhood that doesn’t meet an arbitrary standard be bulldozed.
However, from a population health standpoint, understanding the impacts of the built environment on the people who live in it can be a valuable tool for designing and delivering the supportive services you mentioned and advocating for improved transportation infrastructure, street cleaning, zoning decisions, and so forth. Too often these kinds of decisions are made with an eye exclusively for economics, or exclusively for crime reduction, or something. The design of neighborhoods, especially in an old city like this one, make it challenging to envision something different, because it might mean taking away or changing the historical context where people live, work, and play.

By: Hasdai Westbrook

Hasdai Westbrook — Fri, 18 Oct 2013 14:37:01 +0000

Love your take on psychological topography, Adam. One thing I think is missing from this discussion, though, is that many people who live in areas and buildings we would consider “distressed”, derelict and depressing form strong emotional attachments to those places because, after all, they are home. We shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this and let our do-gooding/improving impulses get the better of trying to appreciate complexity. Certainly many of the things you say are true and we should make an effort to improve infrastructure and the built environment for everyone. But even project towers – places we would assume are only dens of misery and despair – can be places not only for nostalgia but profound connection, connections that structure existence. I’d compare it to a way of thinking that apparently is making the rounds in social services (so I’m told by people in the field) that it’s sometimes better to keep a child in a household that would generally be considered unsuitable or even abusive while providing the necessary support, rather than immediately remove them because even a tormented bond is crucial to child development and well-being, and tearing children away can be even more disastrous. A troubled place can also be a cherished place.