The United States has a historically fraught relationship with green spaces. In the name of Manifest Destiny, the Homestead Act (and other legislation) forcibly displaced indigenous communities across the continent to benefit settlers who would turn that “wilderness” into America’s “heartland.” Then, as the government began to reckon with its history of environmental degradation, it displaced these communities of farmers, liberated Black families, and remaining indigenous populations to preserve so-called “virgin territor[ies]” with the establishment of National Parks. On land that was neither virginal nor the federal government’s property, the United States uprooted thousands of families to create some of the first parks in America. Entire communities were destroyed so that Yosemite National Park, Central Park, and many other green spaces across the country could be “preserved.”
Through gentrification, modern green spaces continue to threaten displacement of the same urban populations they seek to serve. Many large American cities like Dallas severely lack accessible, urban green spaces and are recently beginning to work on remedies. While parks in highly-urbanized cities theoretically offer benefits to park goers, we need to break centuries-old cycles of displacement to truly provide for the most important populations: the existing residents of these communities.
Urban green spaces are a double-edged sword. On one hand, there is no denying that access to parks increases individual and community health. Increased physical activity outdoors is proven to improve mental health issues like anxiety and depression, as well as lower cortisol and stress levels. According to the UN, access to nature is also shown to decrease the prevalence of noncommunicable diseases like cancer and heart disease. Meanwhile, the presence of parks within communities helps provide storm run-off areas to decrease flooding, increase air filtration, and generate shade from increasingly hot temperatures. On the other hand, the presence of such beautiful and sought-after green spaces in the midst of large cities increases property values and creates prime locations for new high-end residential and commercial developments. This makes living in these communities incredibly expensive for existing residents and detracts from the existing culture of the neighborhood.
The High Line in New York City’s Chelsea neighborhood is a prime example of the inequality surrounding urban green spaces. This elevated railway turned “linear park” was built in a community where people of color represent nearly one-third of the population. Yet visitation statistics from 2014 (five years after the park opened) suggest that nearly 83 percent of all park-goers were white. Furthermore, most park visitors are tourists, not residents of New York City. While the park is an economic success due to the emergence of businesses and apartment complexes adjacent to the High Line, it fails to provide usable green space to the community around it. The working-class families in these neighborhoods are those most at risk of not going outside and getting proper physical activity, and remain at risk because they do not feel like the park is for them.
Granted, the High Line is considered a trailblazer in a recent trend of converting abandoned infrastructure into urban parks. With that in mind, more recent projects in places like San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Atlanta have been far more attentive to community voices in the neighborhoods they are building in. San Francisco’s Presidio Tunnel Tops is a trailblazer in this regard, and while it may be too soon to consider it a success, its attention to community voices and accessibility looks promising. Still, in other areas, local input does little if there are no financial or legal protections to ensure affordable housing for the original residents. That is why back in 2016, two members of Atlanta’s BeltLine board of directors quit over equity concerns. They feared that although the project was reaching out to surrounding neighborhoods, they were not taking concrete steps to protect affordable housing in those communities.
Issues with equitable development become especially critical in cities like Dallas, where there are very few accessible urban parks. Meanwhile, new development projects coupled with explosive population growth already threaten to gentrify many neighborhoods across the Metroplex. In 2022, the Trust for Public Land, which seeks to ensure equity in the outdoors, ranked Dallas 53rd in the nation on their annual ParkScore report of cities with the best access to and quality of public parks. While the original proposal of a massive park around the Trinity River in downtown Dallas was approved by public vote in 1998, setbacks have continued to delay its completion. Now that solid plans are finally being drawn up for parts of the Trinity River Project, concerns of community stability are at an inflection point: this is where the city of Dallas will decide whether to protect people or property development.
The Trinity River Project seeks to turn over 10,000 acres of floodplain and the largest urban hardwood forest in the country into a massive corridor of parks. Not only is the land enormous, but it also runs straight through South Dallas, a region of the city where many neighborhoods have historically been neglected by local officials and developers alike. Redlining, over-policing, and lack of investment from the city into the parks and public services have done irreparable harm to the community in South Dallas. Creating a large nature corridor 11 times the size of Central Park right through South Dallas and next to downtown has the potential to improve millions of lives in the most marginalized communities in the city.
One of the biggest roadblocks to actually turning this land into usable green space is that any new development around the river must be approved by the US Corps of Engineers who manage the levees around the riverbank. While the Trinity River Project was supposed to be a focal point for the Corps in the early 2000s, hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Harvey have necessitated turning attention and resources towards other cities like Houston and New Orleans. Now that millions of new dollars are flowing back into the project, action finally seems to be on the way.
The first major installation of the Trinity River Project is expected to be the Harold Simmons Park along the riverbank near Oak Cliff, a predominantly Black and Hispanic neighborhood. The completion of this project—which would provide residents with pristine outdoor facilities right in their backyard—would be a major step in the right direction for the city. Developers associated with the park, however, are already discussing plans for new restaurants and businesses along the corridor instead of simply focusing on making nature accessible to urban residents.
Dallas has approached the same fork in the road that so many other cities have navigated. Whether they choose to listen to community voices, incorporate local businesses and organizations in the planning process, protect affordable housing, and ensure green spaces are accessible to everyone will impact Dallas communities for generations. While the future of the park and its surrounding communities is unclear, hopefully Dallas resists the urge to give in to the demands of private corporations and instead relies on community input and concerns. Green spaces should first and foremost be preservations of nature and points of community building, not focal points of new construction and development.
As someone who spent eighteen years growing up in Dallas, I wish I had more access to pristine urban parks. Now, heavily developed cities like Dallas, Los Angeles, and Atlanta are finally embarking on an array of different environmental projects. These developments are an opportunity to not only serve urban residents, but also to break centuries-old cycles of green-washed displacement. It is time for our public officials to resist corporate interests and set a new precedent for the equitable development of green spaces in America.