Why did Detroit residents refuse free trees? "It’s not that they didn’t trust the trees; they didn’t trust the city."

This is required reading. Team Gahan won't, so the rest of us should.

Why Detroit Residents Pushed Back Against Tree-Planting, by Brentin Mock (CityLab)

Detroiters were refusing city-sponsored “free trees.” A researcher found out the problem: She was the first person to ask them if they wanted them.

 ... The residents Carmichael surveyed understood the benefits of having trees in urban environments—they provide shade and cooling, absorb air pollution, especially from traffic, increase property values, and improve health outcomes. But the reasons Detroit folks were submitting “no tree requests” were rooted in how they have historically interpreted their lived experiences in the city, or what Carmichael calls “heritage narratives.”

These are the stories that people from all walks of Detroit life tell themselves and each other about why city conditions are the way they are. The heritage narratives that residents shared about trees in Detroit were different from the ones shared among the people in city government and TGD.

A couple of African-American women Carmichael talked to linked the tree-planting program to a painful racist moment in Detroit’s history, right after the 1967 race rebellion, when the city suddenly began cutting down elm trees in bulk in their neighborhoods. The city did this, as the women understood it, so that law enforcement and intelligence agents could better surveil their neighborhoods from helicopters and other high places after the urban uprising.

The city was chopping down trees at a faster clip at this time. And the city was flying helicopters over their homes at one point—to spray toxic DDT from above on the trees. However, the government’s stated reason for the mass tree-choppings was that the trees were dying off from the Dutch elm disease then spreading across the country. These were competing heritage narratives of the same event—the clearing away of trees in the 1960s. The two narratives are in conflict, but it was the women’s version, based on their lived experiences, that led to their decision to reject the trees today. It’s not that they didn’t trust the trees; they didn’t trust the city.

“In this case, the women felt that [after the race rebellion] the city just came in and cut down their trees, and now they want to just come in planting trees,” said Carmichael. “But they felt they should have a choice in this since they’ll be the ones caring for the trees and raking up the leaves when the planters leave. They felt that the decisions regarding whether to cut down trees or plant new ones were being made by someone else, and they were going to have to deal with the consequences.”

Yo, Warren: "Unless a city prioritizes basic service, people will not want to build roots in it."

In a perfect world, political functionaries charged with basic infrastructure would be delighted to learn of eyesores ripe for cleaning, as with mattresses dumped within eyesight of Break Wind's intended upscale millennial pizzazz, but when informed of this on social media, Warren Nash advised against encouraging the sort of person who would bring this to his attention -- after two weeks of it moldering there.

Imagine the immediate reaction had it been suggested that the mattress was a public art installation.

If the notion of human rights embraced health and safety, then basic infrastructure is one guarantor of rights and freedoms. Have you ever heard Nash, Adam Dickey or other local paragons of "democratic" propriety talk about such a topic, even once?

The Not-So-Secret Secret About Growing a Healthy City, by Anna Clark (Next City)

It may not have as much placemaking pizzazz as a new bike-share or downtown arts district, but unless a city prioritizes basic service, people will not want to build roots in it. From safe drinking water to solid public schools, brass-tacks urbanism is the not-so-secret secret about growing a healthy city ...

... Reese and Sands are not arguing against all the innovations in today’s urbanism, per se, but they do suggest that projects like riverwalks and casinos are isolated initiatives that can’t make up for a city’s inconsistent trash pickup or broken street lights. Compare it to an old house: New windows and a fresh coat of paint are great, but it won’t compensate for a sinking foundation and ragged roof.

Might the New Albany Parks Department annex the former Tiger Stadium's artificial turf?

Thankfully, spring training games begin in less than three weeks.

While reading this essay, which places a beam of sunlight on controversies attendant to the use of artificial turf, I couldn't help remembering the mayoral debate at Silver Street Park's sumptuous indoor training facility, and warnings that women in heels weren't allowed on the playing surface.

Dude.

The Plan for Detroit’s Former Tiger Stadium Ignores History—and Potentially Safety, by Michael Betzold (The Nation)

... Historic preservation is almost always a losing cause in Detroit, because city leaders would rather obliterate the troubling past than honor it. This attitude made a new ballpark an easy sell, since African-Americans have passed on stories of mistreatment at the Corner through several generations. Walter Briggs, the auto magnate who expanded the stadium after the Tigers’ first world championship in 1935 and owned the team into the 1950s, was notoriously racist, and the team didn’t integrate for a decade after Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color barrier. To add to the insult, the greatest Tiger in history is Ty Cobb, the outfielder known today not only for his outstanding career in Detroit but also for his penchant for violence and racism. (A recent book tries to redeem his reputation and soften that caricature, but the truth about Cobb remains murky.)

History is a messy and contentious thing. And, in Detroit, it’s too often a battleground. But it’s unwise and unfair to cover up the complex past of Michigan and Trumbull.