My first memories of nature are from the Arnold Arboretum in Boston. I would eagerly join my aunt on her daily walks at the Arboretum. Here, I learned the calls of robins and chickadees and discovered the sweet smell of blooming lilacs. I would spend hours exploring every nook and cranny in the Arboretum. I still remember the warm, friendly smiles of strangers whose faces gradually became familiar. 

The Arnold Arboretum offered everything in one place: a colorful sea of flowers in the spring, big hills perfect for sledding in the winter, and trails for hiking and bicycling year-round. And the best of it all? It was 281 acres of nature free for everyone to enjoy. 

To the public, the Arnold Arboretum is the historic botanical garden of Harvard University, housing more than 4,000 different tree species from all over the world. To me, the Arboretum was all of that and more — it was also a natural playground and my special hideout from the pressures of growing up.

A piece of the Arnold Arboretum in Jamaica Plain, Boston, MA. Photo by author.

As I grew up, I came to understand the importance of identifying with public places and people in my community. This is a topic that has become important to place-making, which involves community members, city officials, landscape architects, and urban planners working together to create equitable public spaces. Place-making re-imagines public parks as productive community spaces that promote people’s health, well-being, and social belonging. 

One example of a successful place-making project is in Watts, a lower-income neighborhood in Los Angeles. There, residents helped transform a long-neglected and polluted lot into a neighborhood park. With support from the Trust for Public Land, a public-private partnership, residents organized community workshops and provided their input for the park’s design. After six years of planning and strategizing, the residents’ visions for Serenity Park became a reality. 

The park includes an accessible walking path, playground, skate park, exercise equipment, and sheltered picnic areas. Ronald Kartoon Antwine, a Watts resident and former gang member, could not be prouder of their work. “We have a safe haven for kids. We have greenery, which produces oxygen [and] brings a sense of peace.” Although small in size, Serenity Park is a huge victory for Watts residents and a monument to their collective hard work in creating a safe, welcoming place for everyone in the community to enjoy. As Antwine says of the park and his community, “We have prevailed.”

Watts Serenity Park before construction. Image courtesy of the Trust for Public Land

Watts Serenity Park after construction. Image courtesy of EPT Design

Sometimes, however, public parks can bring unseen consequences to local communities. Take the High Line on the west side of Manhattan, New York. The linear multi-use “greenway” park was built on a former elevated railway, intended to transform the once “blighted” West Chelsea district. Now it is filled with luxury condos, restaurants, and art galleries. 

Researchers worry that The High Line is leading to green gentrification, a trend seen in other greenway parks like Chicago’s 606 trail and Atlanta’s BeltLine. Since its completion in 2014, the park has driven a 35% increase in adjacent housing values and generated over $2 billion in private investment surrounding the park. The park attracts more than 5 million visitors per year. 

“Abington House on the High Line,” a 312-unit luxury rental building along the High Line. Image courtesy of Brenton Gibbs.

Visitors walking on the “High Line,” an elevated greenway park in New York in 2015. Image courtesy of @ZinCo

The High Line in the 1970s. Image source: Flaming Pablum

While both the High Line in New York and Serenity Park in Los Angeles have rehabilitated abandoned urban lots, it is clear that the High Line was designed to attract tourists, not serve the neighborhood. The story of Serenity Park shows that public parks can be powerful tools for building community, but place-making strategies must be implemented from the start of the park planning process.

To me, the Arnold Arboretum perfectly demonstrates place-making in a public park, through its free educational programs and guided tours to connect people with nature. It has given my family a sense of serenity and belonging since immigrating to the United States. The Arnold Arboretum will always have a special place in my heart. 

The fact that the Arboretum is, as horticulturist Brendan Keegan says, “free to the public makes it uniquely able to educate Bostonians on the important roles plants and animals play within our broader urban community.” I completely agree. 

Special moments at the Arnold Arboretum: