Former Editor-in-Chief Ryan Avent writes a weekly column about neighborhood and development issues.
Early this year, I took advantage of one of our strangely mild January days and went on a short walk with my dog. I was tossing a ball for the little guy on an ugly square of WMATA-owned scrub near the Brookland Metro station, when a fellow resident of the neighborhood came by and encouraged me to defend the grassy lot from the onrush of Development, which was sure to leave me and my dog with no place to roam. The neighbor is not alone in his opinion that empty land near Metro is important; parts of the community have become quite worried by the prospect of dense, transit-oriented growth around the station, and particularly the potential loss of that block of weeds and gravel, which is euphemistically called Green Space in anti-development circles.
These days, as the tree limbs sag with the weight of new leaves and the evenings grow longer and warmer, pup and I focus our wanderings on the streets around the Turkey Thicket Community Center, along with the rest of the good people of Brookland. We walk there to watch the rugby team practice and the kids kicking soccer balls, to say hello to the other strollers and dogwalkers and see if there are any tennis courts empty (there never are), and to meet and greet the other people who share our little corner of the city. It’s a damn fine way to spend an hour before sunset. And over at the little piece of scrub land — the Green Space — commuters walk quickly by to get home, the better to throw on some comfortable shoes and join everyone else at Turkey Thicket.
Not all open space is created equal–not even close, as it turns out. While last century’s planners made a fetish of openness and green in city environments, thinkers like Jane Jacobs pointed out that many of the openest and greenest spots were also the emptiest and saddest. Green is lovely, but in a growing city wasted land is extremely costly.
The point should be especially clear in Brookland, where the thriving residential community has had difficulty inspiring a diverse array of retail and entertainment options. Part of the challenge to retailers is the neighborhood’s low population density. Much of Brookland consists of single-family homes, and the areas zoned for greater density — such as that near the Metro station — remain underdeveloped, with pieces of scrub Green Space and decaying industrial lots. Dense development around the station would add pedestrians and life to the commercial corridors, without threatening the quiet character of the leafy streets east of 12th Street, and yet some residents oppose such growth, demanding the protection of openness. And still, the outdoor activities concentrate themselves at Turkey Thicket, while the empty lot here and the grassy waste there go ignored.
Photo by Terecico.
