12/15/2025
The Forgotten Plaza
I had a conversation with a city manager recently that’s been gnawing at me.
We were talking about public spaces, and it hit me how backwards our approach has become. Cities will throw millions at parks without blinking. Another baseball field? Sure. Another patch of grass with a swing set? Approved. But suggest investing public money in spaces that actually bring people together, spaces that create real community and economic value, and suddenly everyone gets squeamish about “public-private partnerships” and “return on investment.”
I’m not against parks. I love a good park. But let’s be honest. Most parks suck.
They’re afterthoughts. Grass, maybe some trees, a few benches that no one sits on. We check the box that says “green space” and call it a day. We build our fifth baseball diamond in a town of 15,000 people and pat ourselves on the back for “investing in recreation.”
Meanwhile, no one’s actually there. No one’s connecting. No one’s building the kind of social fabric that makes a place feel like home.
Go back through history, hell, go back to the beginning of civilization, and you’ll find the same thing in every thriving community: the plaza, the square, the agora, the commons. Places where people gathered. Where they saw their neighbors. Where commerce and conversation and community all happened in the same spot.
We had this figured out for thousands of years.
Then somewhere along the way, we forgot. We started separating everything. Public over here. Private over there. Never the two shall meet. We built parks that exist in isolation, disconnected from the actual rhythm of daily life. We created these sterile “green spaces” that people drive past on their way to somewhere else.
And now we wonder why people feel disconnected. Why they don’t know their neighbors. Why they don’t have roots in their communities.
It’s not a mystery. We stopped building spaces that foster those connections.
Here’s what kills me, why is it perfectly acceptable to dump public money into a park that generates zero economic activity, but somehow controversial to invest in beautiful public spaces that private businesses can utilize?
Think about the best public spaces you’ve ever experienced. The ones that actually feel alive. I guarantee you they’re not just empty grass. They’re places where cafes spill onto sidewalks. Where farmers markets happen. Where local businesses create reasons for people to show up and stick around.
That’s not a bug. That’s the entire point.
We need spaces people actually want to be in, year-round, in all seasons. A patch of grass doesn’t cut it in February. But a well-designed plaza with a great coffee shop, protected from the wind, heated in winter? Now you’ve got something. A public square that hosts markets, events, concerts in summer and has indoor spaces where people can gather when it’s cold? That’s a place that actually serves the community.
And yeah, businesses might profit from being there. Good. That’s called a functioning economy. That’s called sustainability.
We’ve created this false dichotomy where public investment must be completely separate from private benefit. But that’s insane. The best cities in the world blur these lines beautifully.
Public infrastructure that enables private businesses to thrive, which in turn creates vibrant spaces that everyone benefits from. The city builds and maintains the bones, the plaza, the streets, the lighting, the landscaping. Private businesses bring the life, the cafe, the bookstore, the brewery, the things that give people a reason to be there.
Everyone wins.
The city gets a space that people actually use. Residents get a third place that isn’t work or home. Local businesses get foot traffic and community support. Tax revenue goes up because the area is thriving. Property values rise. People develop real attachment to their place.
But we can’t seem to get out of our own way. We’ll spend $3 million on another underused park, but balk at investing half that in a public square that could transform a downtown and generate actual returns, both social and economic.
I’m not saying eliminate parks. I’m saying we need to be way more intentional about what we’re actually building and why.
If the goal is community, if the goal is connection, if the goal is giving people a sense of place and belonging, then we need to stop building isolated patches of grass and start building spaces designed for congregation.
Spaces where you might run into someone you know. Where you can grab a coffee and sit outside. Where kids can play while parents talk. Where the farmers market happens on Saturday and concerts happen in summer and people gather for festivals in fall.
Places that are beautiful and functional. Public and alive with commerce. Accessible to everyone and economically sustainable.
We did this for millennia. We can do it again.
But first we have to stop being so precious about keeping public and private in separate boxes. We have to stop measuring success by how much grass we planted and start measuring it by whether people actually show up, connect, and feel like they belong.
That’s the point of public space. Not the grass. The people.
Let’s build for them.
