A Meditation on Place
MONDAY, APRIL 21ST | 11:00am
Notes from BLK South Staff Meeting
Lately, I’ve been sitting with the idea that our well-being is deeply tied to the well-being of our neighborhoods—not just in theory, but in our bodies, our mental health, our dreams. If my neighbors aren’t okay, then I’m not okay. That simple truth has been shaping how I think about our work at BLK South.
The neighborhood isn’t just a space where we do things—it’s the ground from which we live. It invites us into a deeper kind of solidarity, one that isn’t only project-based but life-based. It calls us not only to ask, What do we want to build here? but How do we want to live here—together?
That question of “how do we want to live?” feels like the real invitation. It’s a shift from transactional development to transformational presence. It’s about creating life—real life, with people, in place.
I’ve also spent time reflecting on the role of Community Development Corporations (CDCs). I came across a stat that there are over 4,000 CDCs in the U.S. today, many of which focus heavily on affordable housing. That number stuck with me—especially the fact that over 90% report being engaged in housing development. It got me thinking: maybe there’s something there for BLK South...
Because housing isn’t just about shelter—it’s about dignity, memory, and rootedness. It preserves the character of a neighborhood. It protects elders who have lived through waves of disinvestment and displacement. And it gives younger generations something to inherit, something to build from.
I’m learning that one of the challenges with CDCs is that sometimes the boards aren’t technically representative of the community, and in practice, the power dynamics tilt toward professional staff. It makes me wonder how we might ensure that any initiative we lead—especially around housing—stays genuinely community-led.
As we think about future projects, I’m feeling more and more drawn to the possibility of a housing initiative that resists gentrification, preserves historic homes, and tells the story of the people who lived—and still live—there.
There’s a lot more to process, and I know I’ll be following up with others from our recent meetings. But for now, I’m holding this: our well-being is tied to the land, the homes, and the people we live beside. And if we can keep that at the center, I think we’ll be on the right path.
Standing in front of Dr. King’s home in Montgomery, AL (Nov. 2024)
