2024 RISING STAR IN COMMUNITY BUILDING AWARDEE, FARRAKHAN SHEGOG!

Congratulations to Farrakhan Shegog, President of Young Voices with Action, recipient of our 2024 Rising Star in Community Building Award!

The Rising Star in Community Building Award recognizes a person who:

• Demonstrates strong dedication to and passion for community building work.

• Exhibits leadership, vision, and a commitment to action and results.

• Shows promising potential to catalyze outstanding impact in community building policy, investment, and/or community change.

• Works to challenge the status quo in the St. Louis region.

Farrakhan Shegog’s community work really began in 2012 when a close friend of his lost her life to gun violence. It was around this time that Farrakhan made two decisions: first, that he would finish his Bachelor of Science in his friend’s honor, and second, that he would found Young Voices With Action, an organization which builds community power and leadership capacity among young people in St. Louis. When Farrakhan realized just how many young people in the community were without access to the resources and opportunities needed for a high quality of life, he was inspired to take action to build those opportunities himself.

From his efforts with Young Voices with Action, to organizing marches, to the founding of #BlackWallStreet314 which brings together around 100 Black vendors each summer to celebrate Black culture and to support Black businesses and residents alike, Farrakhan works towards a holistic vision of a future in which the community can recirculate “dollars, ideas, skills, talents, and passions.” Farrakhan’s work asks, “What if the entire community was a safe space? What if the entire city of St. Louis or St. Louis County was a safe space?” Through education, engagement, and empowerment, Farrakhan’s work encourages young people in the community to continue to reinvest in the community by building a space where young leaders can thrive. “Our communities are dictated by the leadership we have, and also by how we respond to that leadership.” Farrakhan’s transformative work serves as a source of empowerment for young people to get involved in shaping the future of St. Louis and truly challenging the status quo.

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Farrakhan at our 12th Annual Community Development Family Reunion event on April 25th! 

INTRODUCING CBN'S NEW PARTNERSHIP COORDINATOR!

We are thrilled to announce that Megan Arnett has join the CBN staff team as our Partnership Coordinator on July 5th!

The Partnership Coordinator will be working directly with our membership to build their capacity to deliver impactful place-based initiatives in their community. This position is responsible for building relationships with the private and public sector to achieve equitable community building efforts, strategically steering and supporting the growth of place-based organizations in the St. Louis community, providing technical assistance to member organizations, and creating and facilitating marketing communication activities that increases awareness to the community building efforts in the region.

Please help us give Megan a warm welcome. Here’s a little more about her:

As a long-time resident of the St Louis Metro East region, Megan Arnett has been driven by an unwavering commitment to social justice and an unshakeable belief in the power of community engagement. She understand that true change can only be achieved through collective efforts and meaningful partnerships. By leveraging her expertise and passion, she strive to empower communities to unlock their full potential and create lasting positive change. Megan’s educational background includes a Bachelor's degree in Sociology and a Master's degree in Sociology and Integrative Studies. This educational foundation has equipped her with a comprehensive understanding of community dynamics and the complex interplay between individuals and their environments.

Before joining the CBN family, Megan served as a Professor of Sociology at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, educating and inspiring the next generation of community leaders. Through her academic position, she has develop a deep appreciation for the power of knowledge and its ability to drive meaningful transformation within communities. Throughout her career, Megan have actively engaged with diverse community partners and resources, utilizing a community-centered approach to address individual and community-based needs. This experience solidified her belief in the transformative power of community engagement as a catalyst for positive change.

In Megan’s spare time, she enjoys exploring nature, advocating for social causes, and spending quality time with her family and friends.

2023 Transparency & Trust Awardee, Dana Malkus!

Congratulations to Dana Malkus, JD, Associate Dean for Academic Affairs and Director of the Entrepreneurship and Community Development Clinic at Saint Louis University School of Law, recipient of our 2023 Transparency & Trust Award!

The Transparency & Trust Award recognizes a person who:

• Works with honesty and openness and isn’t afraid to be vulnerable, especially when things don’t go as planned.

• Co-creates work with the people and partners they serve and works to build shared trust so that all at the table feel supported and valued as part of the process.

• Embraces mistakes and weaknesses in the open as opportunities to learn and grow.

Richard Rothstein had been working on the book The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America when Michael Brown was killed. He didn’t have it done yet, but so much happening at that time aligned with his research. So he put out an article in 2014 called The Making of Ferguson: Public Policies at the Root of its Troubles. And when I read it, I found it really compelling because there’s a lot of deep research on St. Louis and segregation here. He weaved together much of St. Louis’ long history, explaining how we got to where we are. Well, a few paragraphs in the piece talk about the Shelley v. Kraemer case and racially restrictive covenants. He tells the story about how there was a neighborhood group called the Marcus Avenue Improvement Association that tried to enforce the covenant and that they were sponsored by the Cote Brillante Presbyterian Church, which at the time was an all-white congregation in an all-white neighborhood. In that case, the covenants were struck down. After the decision, the neighborhood experienced a lot of change and white flight. The church closed. Eventually, it came back to life as a new congregation. And when I read about the association and the church, it was really striking to me because I didn’t know that piece of the case. And it was overwhelmingly sad to see that the church had been involved in that way.

Dana: I Googled the church, wondering if it still existed, and that’s how I found Reverend Clyde Crumpton. So I emailed him, told him about the class I teach at SLU Law, and how I thought it would be helpful if my students could see the church, hear the story, and see the Shelley House to make it more real rather than just reading about it in an article. So we came several years ago and we’ve kept coming most semesters since. Rev. Crumpton talks to my students about the neighborhood, the church, and his involvement, and it’s a really powerful eye-opener. Many of my students are from St. Louis, but they don’t know the history. Even for the ones who aren’t from here, the story of St. Louis is, unfortunately, the story of many cities all over the U.S. So it’s relatable whether you’re from here or not or you practice law here or somewhere else. I’m a law professor. And part of why I think it’s important for my students to understand this history is because if you’re going to be working in community development, you have to understand your client, a bit of the background, and how we got to where we are today. It deeply saddens me that the Church is segregated and that it has been throughout its existence in the U.S. I am part of the Church. And it bothers me that the problem of segregation even affects the Church. That it was involved in enforcing racially restrictive covenants is wild but true. It’s important we face that.

Rev. Crumpton: We, the Black community, were not surprised that the Church supported the Kraemer family. Even today, the Church is divided among conservative, liberal, and racial lines. One of the reasons I applaud Dana’s work is because she continues to expose some of those divisions. And a lot of them are fabricated for the potential to control the public and the narrative of the nation. In addition to her classroom and coursework, I’m glad she’s given me and her students more exposure to the Shelley vs. Kraemer case. It’s also a segue to where we are today, socially and ethically, and touches on the importance of having our story told. Bringing Dana and her class in helps us tell the story. And the more you tell the story, the more you know the story.

One of the reasons I applaud and am so happy to have met Professor Malkus is because she’s helped us understand better and better tell our story. This is also social studies, psychology, and biblical — when people are aware of their ancestry, there’s a responsibility to that ancestry to teach it, to protect it, to build their lives on it. And with that comes pride, self-esteem, and value. A lot of that’s missing from our community, which as a result, in the streets of St. Louis, we see on the 5, 6, and 10 o’clock news. And I’m saying, in order for us to change that behavior and mindset, we need to teach them who they are, from where they’ve come, the responsibility that is within their history and culture, and why they’ve been deprived of it to formulate the behavior we see. To prevent us from teaching that, we now have legislation that says we can’t teach Black history because it’s Critical Race Theory, which it’s not. But, behind that, what’s being said is, “We want to continue to control the narrative, Black community.” We want to keep you oppressed, we want to keep you ignorant, we want to keep your behavior the way it is because we don’t have to come in and lynch you no more. You can kill each other. We have just tricked you to believe you are your own enemy and not your brother’s keeper. From a biblical standpoint, who do we trust? God or legislators?

Dana: We learn through stories. A lot of the work I do with my students involves legally forming neighborhood groups like the one Rev. Crumpton is involved in. So we’re the lawyers that do the paperwork and help our clients understand how to operate. Because to get access to funding and resources, you’ve got to be able to check some of these boxes. So as lawyers, we provide help with nonprofit formation and help groups know how to function so they can fulfill their missions. Still, it’s important that my students understand, from the community side, the purpose of the groups we help legally form is to create a vehicle for taking collective action and building on assets. We help build a structure to make that happen, not to tell the group what they need to do or judge what they need to do but to help allow them to do what they need to do. Coming here every semester, I hear the Shelley vs. Kraemer and the church’s story, and it helps me remember what we’re doing. We’re transactional lawyers, so we don’t go to court. But our work isn’t simply about drafting or filing documents. Yes, those are lawyering tasks. But to be a good lawyer you actually need these other pieces. You need to understand your client.

Rev. Crumpton: What Dana’s brought to us with her students has been so valuable. Learning all about how we can operate as a nonprofit… We had the name but needed to register with the State. And the attorneys helped us to continue our formation by meeting with us biweekly over the past few years. Even though they change students every semester, the process continues. It’s a learning experience for them as much as it is for us when it comes to our effectiveness in how to better serve this neighborhood. This relationship from the beginning has evolved and transitioned into more than just a Shelley vs. Kraemer thing. It’s moved into hands-on work that’s action-oriented. It’s really a blessing.

When the students and I come here and it’s not raining, we walk down the street to the Shelley house and almost every time there will be people also walking or sitting out on their front porch and Rev. Crumpton knows every one of them. He’ll say hi, they’ll have a brief conversation, and he’ll introduce us. That makes me tear up because it would be easy for the neighbors and Rev. Crumpton to see us as outsiders and not welcome us in. They would have every reason to do that, so I’m just really thankful they don’t. My clinic works a lot with vacant and abandoned properties because they’re a big challenge for our region. The work we need to do to deal with this challenge happens through neighborhood organizations, so my clinic helps strengthen those groups. The perception of neighborhoods that experience a high degree of vacancy is that the neighborhood is empty or abandoned or people don’t care. And when we walk down the street and everyone comes out to talk, it’s an antidote to that. It’s a reminder that a neighborhood is made up of people. And it’s the connections between people that really matter. That’s why having strong neighborhood groups is so important because, legally, it’s the way neighbors can take collective action.

We’re not trying to rewrite the story, we’re just trying to get the truth be told. The rest will take care of itself. Kingsville developed because the area where our church sits was part of Kingsway East and the Greater Ville Neighborhoods. Hence the name. So Professor Malkus and her student lawyers helped us form the Kingsville CDC. We are still an organization. We organize. And we have structure. We also needed to form our identity, to better address our mission to improve our neighborhood and be able to function legally. It has helped the church be the church and be more intentional with our neighbors and neighborhood. Kingsville started from the church. Before COVID, we were meeting once or twice a month. For example, we have a community garden. Some neighbors wanted to start it, they thought the property belonged to the church, so I just said okay. We started gardening and found out the land belonged to the City. We negotiated a price and now we own it. That helped the church members help out the neighbors. One of the responses from the neighbors was, “You church folks aren’t so bad after all. We usually see you come and go on Sundays and you’re good folks.” So that's the relationship. And the church is doing what it’s supposed to be doing. Within the last year, we were also able to reactivate the church bells. They sound every hour from 8 AM to 8 PM. So I asked the neighbors, “What do you think about the bells?” “Aww, man, that’s awesome. It helps us realize the presence of the church.” And that establishes pride in the neighborhood. This isn’t just a church. It’s an active well-maintained church. And a component of the neighborhood.

What are some of the obstacles you’ve had to work through together?

Rev. Crumpton: Making biweekly meetings. We have different schedules and are involved in activities. The Kingsville leadership team has jobs. Some people have moved but remain active. Others are business owners and stay busy. Still, others don’t want to leave their house since COVID. So it’s difficult to get everyone to a morning meeting.
Dana: That highlights a bigger point which is challenging in almost all the work my students do with neighborhood groups and nonprofits and it has to do with privilege. If you’re fortunate enough to have time, maybe you can volunteer more easily. A lot of people don’t have that privilege. And oftentimes the same people seeing the needs and who have the energy and drive to see changes are people working full-time jobs or more already. They’re also most likely already taking care of someone or doing something in their community. They are doers and they are doing. So it’s a challenge, but one I use as a teachable moment for my students because you can’t come in as a lawyer expecting the client to bend to your schedule. We’re here to help the client. So sometimes that means thinking creatively about how and when we have meetings. What information do we need and how do we get it? Helping the students think through that is an important lawyering skill because whether you are doing pro-bono work or you go on to work at a big law firm and charge a lot of money, being able to get around barriers and figure out how to keep a thing moving forward is an essential skill.

Every semester, I have eight students who work in pairs and each pair has two to four clients they are responsible for. About a quarter of our work is working with small businesses and entrepreneurs. When we’re talking about community development, the lawncare and beauty shops are important to the fabric of a place. So we work with businesses like that who can’t afford market-rate legal services but need legal help with formalizing. Another quarter of what we do is with other kinds of nonprofits that might be working across the City, City and County, or State. And then the other half of our work is representing particular neighborhood groups like existing CDCs and neighborhood associations that need help updating their bylaws, understanding what they can and can’t do, or entering into an agreement of some kind. And some of that work also includes forming new entities and helping them get off the ground. Overall, we are working to increase the capacity of neighborhood groups. Neighborhoods are stronger when they can act collectively. So we want to support the structure for residents to be able to work together. The St. Louis Vacancy Collaborative created a map to show where neighborhood associations and other groups exist so we can see what’s being done and what can be done. And we’ve made progress on building the whole ecosystem.

I am thankful to have the job I have because I get to work with students all the time. They go on to do great work after they graduate and they pop back up. Part of how we keep this work going is to bring others into it to work on it together. And then we can better avoid the temptation to think that somehow it all depends on me. What you want to do is set up structures and systems that keep going no matter who is there. Building trust and doing the work is slow. The more I have done this work I just see trust as foundational to everything else. I don’t see how you can move forward on things without having trust. When we talk about community development especially, there’s so much history that is the basis for a lot of distrust. And acknowledging that, understanding it, and being able to sit with it can go a long way toward building trust. From a legal perspective, structures can also make trust happen a little better. For example, in places where there is not a lot of existing trust among residents— you know, “My block is not getting as much attention as yours and the community garden should go here…” — there can be some division and difficulty moving toward collective action. And in the paperwork of these neighborhood associations, we can build structures that reduce some of those barriers. So we can set up rules, like if there are eight board seats, then two people from each quadrant will be elected for representation. Sometimes I’ll suggest things and neighborhoods aren’t there yet. That’s okay. It’s that slow work we often see that doesn’t happen quickly sometimes.

In academia, you spend a lot of time reading things, talking about ideas, proposing solutions to problems — which is all good. I enjoy doing that. But I think this neighborhood, this church, this place is a concrete reminder. It reminds me of why we’re doing this work and that building trust is possible and worth doing. It’s slow work. And there is a richness here. Some of it for me is also just that I’m fascinated by history, especially stories about people, and there’s a lot of that here. That adds a layer of richness you can’t get from just reading an article or a book. It also reminds me that relationships are really important. As a lawyer, you can get caught up in filing paperwork, completing tasks, or drafting things. But you can’t forget that it’s the relationships that matter and that’s how things really get done. So I appreciate the reminder when I come here.

- Dana Malkus, JD, Associate Dean for Academic Affairs and Director of the Entrepreneurship and Community Development Clinic at Saint Louis University School of Law

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Dana at our Community Development Family Reunion on April 20th!

Together We Are Stronger: Inclusive Economic Development to Move the STL Region Forward

Jason Hall, CEO of Greater St. Louis Inc., sits down with Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew to share the work he and his organization is doing to bring together the business community to help drive economic growth and create opportunities for all with a focus on inclusive growth.

This is home. I grew up on the Illinois side and then came back. I’m a lawyer. I was practicing downtown. I had just come out of the closet and had been in St. Louis for less than 12 months when Missouri was the first state to have a ballot initiative banning same-sex marriage. Our civil rights were on the line, so I started to get more politically active. I was in my 20s and had all the energy in the world.

I was volunteering for Jay Nixon’s campaign when he ran for governor and he said he wanted to get young people involved in his administration. The Great Recession had hit and my mentors at the law firm I was at were like, “You’re not gonna miss much. If you want to do public service for a while, have fun and go help the State.” So I did. And I loved public service. I was part of a team that committed to creating more jobs and opportunities in communities across the State. In the end, I wasn’t yet ready to return to practice law because I saw the need to improve economic development in St. Louis, particularly, around the emergence of the entrepreneurship movement. So I joined the St. Louis Regional Chamber. I was there for several years focused on expanding support for entrepreneurs, but it became clear a new platform was needed to carry the work forward.

I quit my job, helped organize civic seed capital from a few institutions and foundations, sold my house, and got an apartment to have some financial flexibility in case things didn’t pan out. I just put all my eggs into a basket around January 1, 2017. I’m a first-gen high school graduate. I don’t come from money and I didn’t have a lot of personal resources at the time. It was a real risk and I felt alive. Like many entrepreneurs I’d worked with in my economic development career, you have to believe in something so much that you’re willing to make it work and create value. My team and I didn’t know what this group was going to take on precisely, but the focus of Arch to Park was to connect emerging development we were seeing in the heart of the City closely tied to the rise in entrepreneurship.

At the time, the major civic catalyst was John Dubinsky — the founder of Cortex, a co-founder of BJC HealthCare, and a former trustee of Washington University. He was a young wiz banker and looking to do something else civically that expanded on the core principles of Cortex. John and I visited other cities to see what they were working on, how they organized, and how they were getting stuff done. And we started taking on more work and partnerships when COVID hit. Well, we ended up supporting our healthcare and public partners in standing up with the Pandemic Task Force and with weekly press briefings. And it was eye-opening to say, ‘When it really matters, the business community needs to function as one in partnership with the public sector to get things done.

One of the early projects Arch to Park got involved with, alongside 20 or so community groups, was economic development. And the metro narrative was, how do we tell a better story about our people and the economy? How could we get the energy starting to build in the urban core to be a national story? No single organization had the budget to do it. There was no unified messaging or movement around those issues at the time. So we all agreed to work together. STLMade didn’t exist yet, but Andy Taylor liked that all these groups were working together. So he put some seed capital in to say, let’s try to discover a people-centered narrative to show the economy of St. Louis without being technical or jargony or just showing pictures of buildings. It became about people telling their stories.

Everybody assumed St. Louis was viewed negatively nationally. But, in doing focus groups, a national perception analysis showed people didn’t even know they were supposed to have an opinion of St. Louis. It was pretty humbling. So, doing all this community engagement work, it was clear people wanted a way to talk about St. Louis and bring some of that growth and vitality forward in a unified way. Then on one March 14th, for #314Day, we launched STLMade at Cortex with Venture Cafe to bring people and small businesses together and over 1,000 people showed up! It was just awesome and so important at the time because it was this grassroots and grasstops get-together. St. Louis can get pretty segmented that just getting so many different people in a common space was special.

This was one of those moments of hope that our generation of leaders is doing differently. In our minds, we needed a day in March, 3-14 happened to fall on a Thursday that year when Venture Cafe would have meetups, so we wanted to have that day on the calendar. We ended up discovering Young Dip and Tatum Polk, whose early work as the founders of #314Day had not yet been widely covered in the press. So, we stopped, paused, listened, and weren’t afraid to say, “We didn’t start it, but we’re trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s work together and support each other towards this goal we all believe in together.”

That’s how their story became part of the #STLMade narrative. We projected the 3-14 Day logo on the Science Center planetarium during the first year of the collaboration and when Young Dip saw it, tears came to his eyes. 3-14 Day became an even more powerful movement and it’s been on display.

What does 314 Day mean to you?

To have a day in this region intentionally set aside to focus on what unites us rather than divides us — that is powerful and critically important. The unexpected element was that it’s become a week on the calendar focused on small businesses in the region, too. People have come up with unique recipes and special discounts. It’s become this day to remind people that entrepreneurs, small businesses, restaurants, and all these St. Louis local businesses — they make us who we are. Our story is best told through people and it’s effective to tell it through the lens of story. Over the past 100 years, there have been about five pushes, #STLMade being the most recent, and the only one we can find that really does center on the people here in St. Louis. The others were building or project-defined, but this one is about telling a story through a broader fabric that might not otherwise be told. And people could relate to it. People understood at that time they were seeing pockets of economic energy in the region but they didn’t know how to connect it, struggled to talk about it, and most often felt connected to it when it was their neighborhood, church, and small businesses that they give their business to. We leaned into that and stay true to it today.

If you want to transform economically and have inclusive economic development, you braid DEI work into it. So many groups try to represent businesses, but how do they all collaborate? Those two things you see in how the community is moving today. There are several manifestations of that and it’s a testament that sometimes you have to go slow to go fast. For example, the partnership between this City and Arch to Park convened a table to plot out the future of the opportunity around geospatial in a community-centered way. The National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA) was embarking on its new headquarters, which we saw as a catalyst for a much larger economic development effort in St. Louis. It made its decision to build its headquarters in North St. Louis — the largest headquarters in the history of the City — and it was an opportunity. We had inspiration from the work in the biotech sector, but the neighborhood into which the NGA was moving is very different. The Danforth Plant Sciences Center was on fresh dirt in Creve Coeur. The social and historical context of North City in St. Louis required us to say, “Let’s not just be leaders in the industry, let’s use the growth in that industry and link it to racial equity and community development.”

The GeoFutures Coalition was formed to map a regional agenda to become the leaders of the geospatial industry. When you look at the plan we put together, we were told it was the first metro, industry sector growth plan to center racial equity from the start. And we did that in several ways. First, anybody who had a role in shaping the steering committee’s plan had to go through a two-and-a-half-day intensive anti-bias and anti-racism training. Second, we challenged ourselves to put community development and other perspectives around the table with traditional economic developers which created new tension points that led to a stronger plan overall. And, third, we worked with Harris-Stowe State University, which historically had not been included at the beginning of key civic decisions. 

We’re not waiting for the NGA to open in 2025 to seize this moment and implement the GeoFutures Roadmap plan. You can’t drop almost $2 billion into a neighborhood and not change. It’s going to change. The question is, will residents get to participate and do it in an organized way? And with respect to the racial equity component, fast forward to today, Harris-Stowe is now the only Historically Black College or University in the country to have a national education partnership with the NGA. With a shortage of Black talent across tech, we’re working on addressing the systems that created that and expanding opportunities. And working with City and business leaders, St. Louis is now host to a national program for HBCU students across the country to come here and immerse themselves in a discovery process over the summer about what opportunities exist and what they can do to prepare to be a part and even get certified for geospatial careers. We challenged ourselves to say it is too late if we start addressing race and social dynamics after the ribbon is cut on the new NGA.

The thought exercise we often repeated is, “What do we want to say is true when the facility opens rather than after the fact?” We didn't want kids growing up in North City either to say, “I see construction, but that has no relevance to my life.” Community non-profit partners have now organized a full K-12 pipeline going into schools to start exposing young students about what geospatial is and foster inspiration in this exciting new tech sector.

“It’s important to drive people to take action. We want to create enough oomph so people run in that direction and not in the other. Geospatial is an example and we can do it in other industries, too.”

Being a first-generation high school graduate, I realize access to opportunity is everything. I always said, “if I ever have a shot to make a difference, I wouldn’t forget where I come from and I’d stay deeply dedicated to that work.” We live in a country where opportunity is not equally distributed yet. We may not get it perfect in our lifetime, but that’s not the test. The test is, are we affecting the arc of that and are we leading by example? I really believe that leadership has consequences. And I’d like to think our staff, volunteers, and community partners are creating a groundswell where that will put St. Louis on a new trajectory, particularly coming out of COVID. History will prove that there’s a unique opportunity to drive change during those big disruptions. We’re doing something nationally significant here in St. Louis. Oftentimes, in this region, when it comes time to compete for catalytic federal investments we end up beating each other up and competing with ourselves at the expense of winning. I was really proud of this region when we got it around one proposal, it came directly from the jobs plan, we already baked the DEI piece into it, and at the centerpiece of that proposal was North City.

Of all the things you do in the community, what comes easy to you and what is really difficult?

My difficulty is patience, just because this region is staring down a very dangerous decade. If we don’t grow, we’re going to fall from the 21st to closer to the 30th largest metro by 2030. So I feel this sense of urgency and burden every day that the time is now. But I have to balance that intensity. I’m a scrappy kid from Granite City. Finesse is not always my strongest suit. I’ve tried to balance how to use my intensity in a way that is more balanced while not losing sight of the ambition St. Louis needs to embrace now. What comes naturally is taking risks. There have been several — the fight for Medicaid expansion, that was one when I was just frustrated. We denied Medicaid expansion to the people of this community even after voters statewide approved it. We have to take some risks and be uncomfortable from time to time. We have to fight for what’s right. It’s okay. I’m willing to stick my neck out there a little bit. That’s what we have to do.

- Jason Hall, CEO, Greater St. Louis Inc.

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Jason at our 11th Annual Community Development Family Reunion event on April 20th!

2023 Resident Leadership Awardees, Cynthia & Delores McCrea!

Congratulations to the Cynthia & Delores McCrea, co-founders of Vandeventer Neighborhood Community Healing & Meditation Garden and Veteran Women of Influence, recipients of our 2023 Resident Leadership Award!

The Resident Leadership Award recognizes a person who:

• Has shown incredible volunteerism and involvement in their community and/or community initiatives.

• Goes above and beyond typical resident action to sit on boards, head committees, and/or encourage the engagement of other residents.

• Works to challenge the status quo in the St. Louis region.

Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew met with Cynthia and Delores to learn more about their passion for community work. Here’s some of what they had to say.

Cynthia: I was 14 when I left St. Louis, came back for my senior year, and then left again after graduation. I stayed away from Missouri for a long time while serving in the military and living in California and Boston. When I returned in my late 30s, I drove a U-Haul home with all my things and my vehicle behind it. And as I came into the City, I was wondering, “Why does the neighborhood look like this? This neighborhood needs some beautification!” I usually come down Taylor and cut straight down to Cook Avenue. And when I got ready to drive through, I was like, “Whoa, Ranken closed the street off.” I spoke with my parents to hear about what was going on in the neighborhood and asked if they had an active block captain or if any of the other streets had one too. Then I asked, “Can we have a block party?”

Since Mom has been in the neighborhood for a long time and gone to so many of the meetings, she knew a lot of people. She introduced me to the alderman and they were both telling me all the names of community activists in the area. Another alderman took me under his wing, had me in community leadership classes through UMSL, and helped me get a Proclamation from the City of St. Louis. Then I started holding neighborhood meetings. I don’t really like to network, but I’m sociable. I’ll set up an event in a heartbeat and then be behind the scenes doing all the grunt work. You know, admin things. My mom is the one who’s the mouthpiece. She’s great at that! So she’d call people to bring them out to the meetings and socialize.”

Delores: It was surprising my daughter took an interest in the neighborhood. She sees beauty in so many things and is so creative. I love that about her. So I was glad to help.

This one older man came to a neighborhood meeting I planned and was like, “Who are you? You’re a spy! We don’t know who you are?” So there I was trying to bring everybody together and people were telling me, “This is the Vandeventer Neighborhood.” Then other people were calling it the 18th Ward. I was so confused. So I decided to do some research on the neighborhood. I went to meetings like “Weed & Seed” and “Federation of Block Units” put on by organizations and neighborhood associations that have a strong history, know each other well, and work well together.

So then I’d go to meetings and say, “Let’s bring the 18th Ward together.” And people would say, “No, we’re the Vandeventer Neighborhood.” “Alright, well let’s bring the Vandeventer Neighborhood together.” “No, we’re the 18th Ward.” Or I’d hear, “We already have our own neighborhood association.” I just wanted to meet folks who wanted to see a better-looking neighborhood.

I started to wonder, “Does MY neighborhood have a community organization where folks come together? Is there an 18th Ward Association?” I was told, “No, but there’s a Vandeventer Neighborhood Association.” “Well, how can I go to those meetings?” “Oh, nobody does that. It’s owned by such and such.” So we went to this guy’s house who was 90-something and I introduced myself: “Hi! My name is Cynthia McCrea and I’m a block captain on Cook Avenue. I would love to get the Vandeventer Neighborhood Association up and going again.” He said, “I tried, but everybody was just so angry. No one could come together. There was so much arguing. Anyway, I moved over here now and I’m not giving up the Vandeventer Neighborhood Association’s 501(c)(3).”

So I created the Vandeventer Neighborhood Community Development Corporation’s Facebook page and we brought back block captains in the neighborhood and began participating in the National Night Out. With Mom’s help, every year since 2010, we started getting large food and beverage donations and blocked off the street to have get-togethers with roller skating, movies, or dancing. We didn’t care which block you lived on, we were trying to get all the residents together. We’ve had a band and a DJ and gave away baskets of food from Earthdance Organic Farm. Every time, people were like, “Yeah!”

Delores: I’m happy Cynthia came back to St. Louis because she’s a great help to me and she was a great help to her dad. And we as a community are meeting again. Now it would be nice if the neighbors met more frequently so we can all keep caring about each other and grow. That’s what a community is supposed to do. Way back, we used to have block parties. No shootin’, no cussin’. We all knew each other.

📷| Photos courtesy of Cynthia McCrea | The Vandeventer Place Gates located in Forest Park where they continue to be admired.

I lived in Boston for 10 years and only came back to St. Louis maybe once. My ex and I purchased a four-family flat in a low-income, Latino neighborhood by the wharf. So I was doing a lot of community service as a board member for a beautification project, putting together fences and painting. Who knew I was becoming a community activist? I was just trying to make my neighborhood look pretty because I had to come home to it every day. I wanted to come home to something like they do in Disney. *In a high-pitched singing voice* “Ahhh, it is bea-u-ti-ful. Everything is shiii-ning! Birds are tweee-ting! I’m smiii-ling!” That’s the land I was envisioning — where the flowers are dancing with you and it’s nice, peaceful, and picturesque. Don’t we all want that?

Well, when I first moved to Massachusetts, I lived in Cambridge for a bit while working at MIT. I was taking care of one of my professor’s houses while they were on sabbatical. They lived in this little cottage and it was so cute how they had it fixed up. Everyone on the block had cottage houses with gorgeous front yards and backyard gardens. I loved their home and garden tours. And I remember seeing white people walking down the street at one or two in the morning and was like, “Oh, this must be a safe neighborhood,” if you get my drift. That was my first time seeing gentrification.

Nowadays, in the Vandeventer Neighborhood, we have many nationalities of people riding up and down the streets on bikes and young men running in their uniforms training to get ready as athletes for the season. Cardinal Ritter College Prep was doing fundraising runs up Cook toward Ranken for a couple of years. And Transformation Church nearby had folks doing prayer walks at 5:45 AM around the neighborhood. Fast forward to COVID, there was a lot of violence, shootings, and young men doing doughnuts on Cook Avenue. I was getting phone calls from neighbors asking how to stop the behavior and who we could call. I thought, “Well, I am a block captain, but we need others who can recruit co-block captains. It’s about all of us.” So, us neighbors are still getting it going. And how did that come to be? The garden. Now it’s wonderful seeing folks walking up and down this street again, stopping by to see what’s going on and saying hi. People are even coming over to ask how they can create a community garden.

I can see directly over to the corner lot from my upstairs bedroom window. The grass was so high you could hide in there without having to bend down. I was like, “The heck with this!” So I went online with the Land Reutilization Authority (LRA) to see if I could get that property through a Garden Lease Program. I saw the lots were available, so I went through Brightside’s Neighbors Naturescaping to show them my plan. I drew a map of three lots together and made four entrances to the garden. Saint Louis University removed a bunch of trees. And from going to the Missouri Botanical Garden, I loved seeing their pincushion circles with cacti and wanted something like that, too. We’re going to have hydrangeas on the outside. And, you know, people aren’t used to hydrangeas in this neighborhood. Why should we have a vegetable garden? Because the yard is so long and big enough. My grandmother always had a vegetable garden with spearmint. So when the grass was cut, it was a lovely smell. *Singing* “What a looov-ely Diiis-ney-laaand to be in!” It really is.

How does it feel to see all the work you and your daughter are doing in the neighborhood?

Delores: It’s about time. I feel invigorated because I love change.

Cynthia: I thought, An English tea garden with a fountain would be amazing in the garden. And a stumpery, dry creek bridge, and labyrinth would add the right touches because it gives residents the opportunity to meditate and enjoy some beautiful sites. We planned to have a human chess board with chess tables in the garden, too. Perhaps then we can have chess tournaments along with the St. Louis Chess Club. I remember at eight years old, our parents took us to Hershey, Pennsylvania, and I never forgot about the large human chessboard there. My brother and I had a blast.

We have plans for a mushroom garden to place all up and down the wood in the stumpery. I wanted bees, too. Why can’t we have some bees? So there’s a bee garden. And a pollinator garden. We have a sensory garden to touch and smell plants. Oh, and I always wanted to have a Little Free Library, so I called around and last year we received one from C.A.R.E. (Change & Action for Racial Equity in St. Louis). Then SLACO hosted the Little Free Library build and paint event. Our neighborhood has some awesome neighbors and things are kicking off more now I’ve got to live around prettiness and like the old cartoon, Smokey Bear says: “Give a Hoot! Don't Pollute.”

I want the community garden to be sustainable for years and years, so here’s how folks can participate. Option one, you can adopt-a-garden by maintaining it with a team. Option two, you can sponsor a space if you don’t have a team. Or, option three, you can maintain a garden space with your own team. We have sponsorship opportunities to provide and install fences, a tool shed, ornamental grasses, and water pipes to get water instead of using the nearby fire hydrant. There are also adopt-a-garden opportunities for the treescape area, hydrangea garden, pollinator garden, stumpery garden, human chessboard area, and English tea garden. A lot of elderly folks here would like to come into the garden so they need flat, ADA-accessible pathways to walk. Currently, they just admire it from the sidewalk. We could also use a sponsor for more signage so people know what plants are in each area.

Everything I do is a start, but I don’t have anyone with the rest of the experience I need with my little bit of knowledge to help blow things out of the park beyond phase one. People always tell me, “You’ll be alright.” And I’m wondering, “How did you get so far along when I’m still down here?” Nope, I can’t take care of all of this by myself. People come to the garden, help for a second, and get a feel for it. I keep thinking the right person will come along who can help me. And then someone does, they get overwhelmed, and leave. That’s happened like 20 million times.

What’s your vision and how’s it feel to make the impact you have made?

Will we be remembered for it? What will happen? Will the neighborhood get it together? Will neighbors actually come together and create a plan?

- Cynthia & Delores McCrea, Co-founders of Vandeventer Neighborhood Community Healing & Meditation Garden, Vandeventer Neighborhood Facebook page, and Veteran Women of Influence

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Cynthia and Delores at our Community Development Family Reunion event on April 20th!

2023 Lifetime Dedication in Community Building Awardee, Tom Pickel!

Congratulations to Tom Pickel, former Executive Director of DeSales Community Development, recipient of our 2023 Lifetime Dedication to Community Building Award!

The Lifetime Dedication to Community Building Award recognizes a person who:

• Has demonstrated a long-standing commitment to community building work.

• Has exhibited leadership, vision, and a commitment to action and results.

• Has catalyzed outstanding impact in community building policy, investment, and/or community change.

• Has worked to challenge the status quo in the St. Louis region.

Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew met with Tom to learn more about the work and love has for St. Louis. Here’s some of what Tom had to say.

I lived in the City of St. Louis all my life. After college, I thought I’d do something to get involved with the development and improvement of the City and realized I didn’t want to work for a public agency long-term or in a big bureaucracy. An opportunity came along at a small CDC and then at DeSales Community Development. Lo and behold, the executive director left and I was appointed to her position. I thought it would be a two-year gig, but that was in the early ’90s, and it was a challenging time for the City and that neighborhood. There was a severe economic recession and in areas like Fox Park and Tower Grove East, which saw improvement in the ’80s, there was a sense of backsliding causing them to lose momentum and progress. That’s when the organization decided to get involved in generating investment in neighborhoods and rehabbing vacant buildings to provide affordable housing. Ten years after that, we formed Fox Grove Management to manage our own properties.

At about that same time, we were approached by the Missouri Botanical Garden to manage the McCree Town Redevelopment Project, which is now Botanical Heights. The management company grew, we got involved in more projects, and in the last decade, we put a new emphasis on programs like youth sports and other activities to support more community building. So I thought I was going to move on to bigger and better things and I did. I just stayed within the same organization. I worked with DeSales for 35 years. I still love the field and I don’t fish or golf, so I’ll find things to keep myself occupied.

What’s an early memory of successful community development work that’s inspired you?

People go to Botanical Heights today to eat at places like Olio and send their kids to City Garden Montessori, but 20 years ago it looked nothing like it does now. It was enlightened self-interest on the part of the Missouri Botanical Garden. They couldn’t just pick up and move. So they said they were going to do something to invest in the area, they raised funds, and they did it. It didn’t happen overnight, but it wouldn’t have happened without an intentional sponsorship on the part of the garden. And there are many other stories like this one as well. People may not remember the name Ralston Purina, but they were behind the LaSalle Park redevelopment starting in the ’70s. Washington University Medical Center Redevelopment Corporation in the West End and later in The Grove, which used to be the Rankin Neighborhood and then the Forest Park Southeast Neighborhood. And that neighborhood languished for a long time. What people regard as this great success of The Grove now with lots of restaurants, businesses, and apartments wouldn’t have happened unless WashU and their redevelopment corporation said, ‘We’re gonna invest, raise capital to improve these areas, and make it happen.

I thought you might ask why I wanted to meet here. For most of my life, I’ve lived within a block of Forest Park. I’m in the park multiple days per week and this building has some fondness for me and my brothers and sisters because we remember coming here on hot summer evenings. For a time, there was an ice cream stand here, we’d watch the sun go down, and the fountain at the foot of the hill would change colors at night. I was so fascinated as a child, like, ‘How does that happen?’ The park was this big adventure land. Sometimes after dinner, we’d cross Skinker and try to find an intact wooden golf tee. But if we found a golf ball, that was such a treasure. Then, as I got older, I’d explore with friends on our bikes. If we made it all the way over here to this side, we were really far from home! Our mother passed away in 1987 and our dad in 1997. So we sold the house west of Skinker and used the proceeds from part of it to make a contribution to Forest Park Forever. We have a little insignia on a donor board near here in memory of our parents. Another reason, more than anything, is that this park is a world-class asset for the city. It’s consistently rated one of the top urban parks in the country and we ought to appreciate that. But it wasn’t always that way. Back in the ’60s, ’70s, and early ’80s, Forest Park was rough. The streets were full of potholes, buildings like this had deteriorated, and there just hadn’t been the investment. Well, Forest Park Forever was founded as a nonprofit, dedicated to raising hundreds of thousands of dollars to make the park what it is today and provide an endowment for ongoing maintenance. That’s why there are 10,000 people in the park today. But we need to keep investing in our city and our assets like Forest Park.

📷| Sara Levin - Picture of “DeSales’ Success+Succession” Event with DeSales and Fox Grove Management Staff

Have you had any recent good memories that stand out from the park?

Actually, I didn’t want a retirement party. But I thought, ‘You know, 35 years and a change of leadership… That doesn’t happen very often.’ So I came up with a theme for what we called ‘Success and Succession’ to talk about DeSales as an organization, what it’s been able to achieve, and also mark the change in leadership. So we had a luncheon with our staff and about 160 friends of the organization and people who supported us along the way.

It’s really hard to build something up, but easy to tear it down. Can you tell me about a time when this was true for you?

In the early ’90s, we did a strategic plan and realized in the process that we needed to get involved in housing development to restart that pipeline of investment coming into neighborhoods. We identified the Low Income Housing Tax Credit, which was not widely used at that time, to raise capital and got involved in the affordable housing business. Well, at that time, there was a board member who was very influential on the team and adamantly opposed us getting involved in housing development. He thought that was something the private sector should do. But, more of the board saw it my way, so to his credit, he came to me one day and said, ‘Tom, you’re taking this organization in a direction I don’t agree with. But I don’t want to stand in your way. I’m going to step down.’ I didn’t always get along with the guy, but I gave him credit for that. And that experience played into my thinking as I approached a turn in leadership.

I came to the conclusion that when it was time for me to hang it up, Becky Reinhart’s the person. Having her already on the team expedited the decision. The board named her as my successor and we have utter confidence in her. Well, I told all of them that I didn’t want anybody working in my shadow, because I’ve seen it. Like, if I was on the board, questions would come up, discussions would come up, everybody would have their say, and then they’d all turn to me like, ‘What does Tom think about this?’ I don’t want to be that guy. So I’ll be helpful in any way I can. But the future is theirs, it’s not mine.

Crime, whether real or perceived, it’s an issue that we just can’t dismiss. I’ve got the perspective of seeing what’s been done when it comes to investing in St. Louis and progress is possible. This city has so much going for it. We’re sitting in the middle of one of the biggest assets we have, and there are a lot of others. A lot of native St. Louisans are pretty cynical about the City and the metropolitan area. That’s why I especially love working with people who come here from out of town because they get it. St. Louis has the bones of a bigger city and the convenience and appeal of a mid-size city. It’s easy to get around and there are so many cultural events and institutions to enjoy. Decline is not inevitable. This experience shows that if you’ve got the opportunity, means, and will to get something done and solve problems, it can be done. So I don’t have a lot of patience for native St. Louisans who are down on the City. To newcomers, I like to share my favorite description of St. Louis and that is that it’s the westernmost eastern city and the easternmost western city. It’s the southernmost northern city and the northernmost southern city. And I think that’s true culturally, architecturally, socially, and racially. For good or for bad, it’s all of it.

Of all the hurdles you’ve come up against in your work, what is the most important lesson you’ve learned?

When I think of my first boss who hired me out of college, he ran the St. Louis Land Clearance for Redevelopment Authority and was a real leader in the field at the time. During my first week on the job, he took me out to lunch and said, ‘Tom, the first thing you have to learn in this business is patience. Nothing happens quickly.’ And that is certainly true because in community development we’re trying to do hard stuff. If it was easy and people were making the money, everybody would be doing it. So it’s challenging. It takes a lot of money, resources, and getting people to work together on a common goal. And it takes raising capital and getting projects built. It’s a long-term commitment. I’m more of a tactical, as opposed to a strategic, planner. In an area like Fox Park 30 years ago, it wasn’t hard to determine where the toughest blocks and most vacant buildings were. You didn’t need to do a study to figure out where to put the money. What’s a little more challenging for me is putting the financing together and all the layers of capital needed to do a project. We can come up with the vision and negotiate to acquire property. Real estate is a people business. Meeting the owners and getting them to play ball with us is what’s the most exciting to me. And then putting the plan together to have an impact. Twenty years ago in Fox Park, you wouldn’t have seen a mom walking her child in a stroller down the sidewalk. But over time, you now see bikers and runners and people walking all the time. On weekday mornings, the little kids from SouthSide Early Childhood Center take a walk down Russell Blvd. and they all hold on to this rope as they walk with their teachers. If my spirits ever need a boost, seeing that does it.

What’s a ripple effect you’re proud to leave in the community development realm?

Communication among groups and between groups from the south city and the north city that didn’t happen 30 years ago. That’s one of the reasons I’m proud to have helped start Community Builders Network. To facilitate communication and information sharing and mutual aid. I’m proud at DeSales that we began a relationship with Northside Community Housing to manage their properties. I’ve always regarded it as more of a collaboration between two like-minded organizations with similar missions rather than a conventional manager relationship. And that wouldn’t have happened 30 years ago. We’re certainly not past that in the City, but we're more on our way to having a harmonious, mutually respectful community development sector to serve the St. Louis region.

- Tom Pickel, former Executive Director of DeSales Community Development

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Tom at our Community Development Family Reunion on April 20th!

2023 Lifetime Dedication in Community Building Awardee, Rick Bonasch!

Congratulations to Rick Bonasch, Director of Technical Assistance at Rise Community Development, recipient of our 2023 Lifetime Dedication to Community Building Award!

The Lifetime Dedication to Community Building Award recognizes a person who:

• Has demonstrated a long-standing commitment to community building work.

• Has exhibited leadership, vision, and a commitment to action and results.

• Has catalyzed outstanding impact in community building policy, investment, and/or community change.

• Has worked to challenge the status quo in the St. Louis region.

Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew met with Kerri Bonasch, Rick’s wife, to learn more about Rick and his passion for the community. Here’s some of what Kerri had to say about Rick and his life’s work.

Rick and I often talked about how we had a wonderful life here together. There were always things to do. St. Louis has problems, but every city has problems. It's the people who matter. The people are what makes St. Louis special and unique. We had so many nice things happen to us here. We came to call them ‘St. Louis Moments.’ Like, when we were deciding if we were gonna move here and we went to a game. I remember I went to put money in a meter, but I didn’t have any quarters. Somebody came up to us, and I asked for change. They responded, “Ah, don’t worry about it. Here are four quarters. I got a ticket here once.” Another time, we wanted to go to a Cards game and funds were low so we were gonna buy bleacher seats. I was kinda crabby that night until someone came up to us saying, “You look like you need tickets,” and they handed us two box seat tickets. Things like that happen all the time here. When Rick got sick, our neighbors gave us at least two meal trains, mowed our lawns, and scolded me once I tried to mow the lawn — I needed to because he was in the hospital a lot and I had a lot of pent-up energy. This is the first time I’ve ever lived alone. Neighbors have raked the lawn, shoveled snow, fed me, and even offered a little prayer service at our block party in his remembrance three days after Rick passed away. It was a testament to the community spirit in our City. Some of the people he worked with still come to visit. And all the cards people wrote and the donations to RISE and the music program at St. Gabriel…. Rick used to play guitar and give lessons. He never charged. He just asked that his students donate to a music program of their choice.

📷| Courtesy of Kerri Bonasch

Rick got in a car accident when everything went south. The doctor said it had nothing to do with it. But he had to catheterize himself and from the day of the car accident until he died, for four years, he had a bladder infection. The doctor kept doing the same things but expecting different results. Let this be a lesson to somebody. And the lesson is to get a second opinion. We had a big fight about it, actually, but he didn’t do it. He liked and trusted his doctor. It turns out, my husband had an aggressive cancer. During the pandemic, when they finally did find it, he got COVID, so his chemo was delayed. Then when he could get chemo, it didn’t work. It was January 10th, 2022 when the doctor did a biopsy but never called us with the results. The care he got after he was diagnosed was unbelievable. I just finally wrote to the oncologist to say thanks.

The doctors at Missouri Baptist did everything they could. When the chemo didn’t work, we had to wait six weeks — one for his body to recover and because the hospital didn’t have enough staff. During that time, his cancer doubled in size and then they couldn’t remove the tumor because it was close to his blood vessels. They called our son and I to a conference room about 45 minutes into the surgery to tell us. We opted for radiation and the tumor shrunk. In July and June, we thought maybe we’d have a chance. But then it spread and went to some horrible places. Rick suffered immensely, but he was a warrior. Every time he got radiation, that took care of it. But, finally, it got in his bones. It’s hard to watch someone you love die. But you’re part of an honor guard walking someone you dearly love home.

It was a peaceful death. Our son came home and was with us through the last days. We played music. We talked to him about our favorite memories and how much we loved him. All his friends came. It was sad. I drove Rick by the Doorways project he had been working on. He knew this project wasn’t just about places to live, it was building community and he was really happy about that. He knew it was gonna be finished. After his memorial service, some people said, “We didn’t really know what he did. Now we do.” When you say “technical assistance,” people think it had something to do with computers. It’s a shame his work had to stop. But sometimes your work is done.

Although Rick was born in Michigan, both he and I grew up in California. I’d lived for a time in Cincinnati and already knew I liked the Midwest. After our first visit to St. Louis, we were amazed at how green it was and how nice the people were. And it was the river, the architecture, the living history we fell in love with. We lived here from 1986 to 1989. Our first apartment was in Creve Coeur — Broken Heart, Missouri, is what I called it — and we’d find ourselves in the car, driving through the City like, “Look at this. Look at that.” It was all the things there were to do: the Botanical Garden, the Zoo, the Great Forest Park Balloon Race, and the Fourth of July under the Arch. Rick actually got into architecture school at WashU with scholarships but decided not to do it. We went back to California, but I’d still visit St. Louis in spring when the trees get this green sheen. And then there was the beauty of fall. And all of the festivals. Then there are the cathedrals. We’d go into these churches and they’re like something you’d see in Europe.

When we talked about moving back, I didn’t want to live in California anymore. Our jobs were there, but there were hours spent in traffic, our rent was astronomical, Rick was often away from home driving hours spent in traffic. After seven years of marriage and finding out I was finally pregnant, it wasn’t sustainable to be on the west coast anymore. It was time to make a change. So one day we were driving home listening to the radio and we heard people were starting to move to Idaho and Colorado. I said, “You know, we don’t have to go back to St. Louis. But if you were gonna go somewhere, where would you want to go?” I didn’t know whether to hit him or to cheer when he said, “I want to go to St. Louis.” A few months later, we were here again, found our first house on Neosho, and never looked back. So many good things have happened to us here.

“Halloween and Mardi Gras in St. Louis were his favorite holidays.”

📷| Courtesy of Kerri Bonasch

Rick’s dad would have his wisdom teeth pulled without novocaine, and Rick was as tough as his dad but in an immense amount of pain. Still, he worked up until two weeks before he died. He didn’t want to stop. I made a workstation for him in the basement and, thanks to COVID, he was able to work from home. When he couldn’t get down the stairs anymore, we moved his computer into the living room. He’d go to meetings via Zoom and if a signature was required, a colleague brought it for him to sign. But, in the end, we were filling Rick with so many drugs. You know, you tell people “it’s okay to go” even though you really don’t want them to. But when it’s no longer any way to live, it’s what you say. Rick’s last two weeks were when it really got tough. Rick started hospice on a Friday. By Sunday night, it was clear the end was coming on faster. In those moments, it was really just about being together. But our son and I knew and still feel his legacy.

For the eulogy my son wrote, he said, “When describing St. Louis to people from out of town, Dad always lit up with stories of neighborly acts of kindness, community acts of solidarity, and underdog scenarios of people from the biggest small town coming together to form parts of the bigger whole.” The other night, I was telling a friend, I knew Rick was that kind of man and that’s why I married him. If something happened to someone, we’d come together and it didn’t matter who they were. He was always doing community development, helping to rebuild neighborhoods versus ripping them apart. There was an opportunity here to do well by doing good. It became ingrained in us. Our anniversary would fall at the end of September, so I’d go visit friends, but he would work around the clock to finish those tax credit applications with the rest of the RISE crew. He had a strong sense of duty and community service. All for one and one for all.

- Kerri Bonasch for Rick Bonasch, Director of Technical Assistance at Rise Community Development

We hope you can join us to celebrate the legacy of community builders like Rick at our Community Development Family Reunion on April 20th!

2023 Collaboration & Coalition Building Awardee, Land Bank Coalition!

Congratulations to the Land Bank Coalition, a St. Louis County’s partnership to restore productive use to problem properties led by MO State Representative Kevin Windham and Legal Services of Eastern MO’s Rachel Waterman and Peter Hoffman, recipient of our 2023 Collaboration & Coalition Building Award!

The Collaboration & Coalition Building Award recognizes an initiative that:

• Demonstrates incredible commitment to working through partnerships, even when it’s more challenging than “going it alone.”

• Forges new connections that bridge gaps between people, organizations, and places that don’t normally interact with each other in the St. Louis region.

• Shows up for others and participates directly in their work; does not only ask or expect that partners and collaborators come to them.

• Approaches difficulty and conflict with understanding, compassion, and an open mind.

Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew met with Kevin, Rachel and Peter to learn more about their work with the Land Bank Coalition. Here’s some of what they had to say.

What is land banking and how did you all come to work together?

Kevin: It’s important for a neighborhood to have vibrant homes, but it’s also important to have young folks walking to school and walking past homes that aren’t vacant and dilapidated and that have neighbors in them. That’s been known for a little while. This hasn’t happened overnight. And there’s been groups of neighbors and even outside speculators who have tried to come in to revitalize these communities. But at some point, it becomes a bigger problem and you see the system needs to be overhauled. A lot of these problems won’t be curtailed unless the government intervenes.

Rachel: A land bank is a governmental entity that serves as a holder of last resort, typically for properties that went up for a tax foreclosure auction, received no bids, and then needed somewhere to live. And that’s what Kevin asked us to look at in St. Louis County. The County has a different way of dealing with tax-delinquent properties — an administrative system, in lawyer speak. And the effect is that a lot of properties accumulate tax debt indefinitely without a good way to clear the title so they can be brought back to market or redeveloped. So properties get caught in a vicious cycle under the systems used in the County and throughout most of Missouri. Other states and cities use land banks to solve this problem, and those problem properties that don’t sell at auctions end up in a land bank where tax debt is cleared. So it’s kind of where they go to be repurposed.

Peter: When white flight happened, the core of the City hollowed out. And it’s only been in the last couple of decades, with continued sprawl out west and aging populations and aging housing stock, that there’s been a need for the County to come up with some system to help recycle vacant and abandoned properties. Most of our program’s work has been in St. Louis City, so this has been our first foray into working with stakeholders in the County. For us, it was an exciting opportunity to do something that fits within the work we were already doing but can also have an impact across the region and the State. So, at the request of Representative Windham, we worked together with the community to brainstorm ideas, look at best practices across the country, and try to draft legislation to reflect that.

What’s been illuminating to you with the work you’re seeing happen?

Rachel: My favorite thing about the St. Louis County Land Bank Coalition meetings is the community education component we provided — making abstract legal issues concrete for people who experience the impact of those systems every single day. As legal aid lawyers, we think a lot about foreclosure and due process and notice all of these legal and constitutional things that are part of these systems, the outcome of which is lots of vacant and abandoned properties in the City and the County. And we’ve worked hard to make those concepts accessible to the coalition which is advocating for the legislation, as opposed to something that just the lawyers understand. The thing I’m most proud of is that everyone who joins our calls can now have a conversation about these legal concepts, why they matter, and why they might produce that vacant house next door.

Kevin: To bring that to fruition a bit, we came up with an awesome video that’s been one of the highlights of my time with the group especially because I got to listen to Ruth Ezell bring to light the work of the coalition. Having somebody I personally admire do the voiceover for that video was pretty cool. In five minutes, this animation helps people understand what was once a 100-page bill and is now under a 50-page bill. It’s hard enough to explain the concept in just a few minutes, but through this project, it’s explained in such a succinct way. Visually, it also allows people to see a house go from vacant and abandoned to what the judicial process looks like and then how the property becomes someone’s new home again. If you think of vacant homes in the region, what if they went through land banking instead of sitting dormant?

📷 | Pictured above are Kevin in front of his grandmother’s house, with his grandmother, and of the two abandoned homes that were in front of her house. Photos courtesy of Kevin Windham.

Kevin: My grandmother moved into her house here in Hillsdale in 1969 and it was the apple of her eye. Across the street, there were two dilapidated homes and, before she passed, that’s the last thing she’d see on her street when she’d walk outside. That is not a success story, but it’s something we as a group don’t want to happen. It’s bigger than policy. It’s something many people have to see in their neighborhoods every day. This neighborhood’s pretty tight-knit. There are a lot of neighbors here from when I was growing up. I have a picture of the homes when they were here and one of them had a tree growing through the middle of it, which shows how long they had been sitting there. Over a decade. Eventually, the homes were removed and nothing’s been built there since. That’s another step in how we think about land banking — the community input to say what they want in a space beyond empty lots. I don’t think it’s uncommon from a lot of other neighborhoods on the North Side. There’s still a ton of pride here. Even though some properties in the neighborhood are going downhill, you’ll see homes right next to them that have brand-new siding or that are undergoing renovations.

Rachel in front of the land where the two vacant buildings used to be in front of Kevin’s grandmother’s house.

Rachel: The reason this work is important to me is that housing policy and community development is where we still see so much racism in society today. Where Kevin’s grandmother’s house is located was about a mile from where I grew up. Same school district; right down the road. My parents still live in their house in a thriving, healthy neighborhood, which is pretty mixed demographically. Yet, Kevin’s grandma’s neighborhood, which is almost entirely Black, saw so much disinvestment and decline. All of these neighborhoods were a beacon of the American Dream after World War II, where families could buy their first house, like small single-family starter homes. And it tells a story about America with how our families’ neighborhoods were treated differently based on who moved into them.

Kevin: We didn't know each other growing up. And when we started on this project together, I had been elected about a year before ever having known Rachel lived in the Normandy area. It really hit me that we grew up that close to each other. It’s something I even thought about on the campaign trail. The Delmar Divide in our neighborhoods is kind of like Lucas and Hunt Road. Pasadena Hills is one of the most affluent Black neighborhoods in the County, and it’s still an unreachable dream for some folks who live on the other side of where they’re living on Lucas and Hunt. Reflecting on that and the Community Builders Network award we got, I started thinking of how a house is more than just a house when it comes to community and how I learned about what a home means. The women in my family taught me the value of a house when building a family and climbing up in socio-economic status. Then a bit deeper, my dad is in the housing industry. And a lot of men in my life taught me the value of building a home when building wealth. I’m just grateful to them and Legal Services of Eastern Missouri for helping me bring that back to my community with this new land banking policy.

Why did it take all of you coming together to make the St. Louis County Land Bank Coalition happen at this time?

Peter: Everybody knew there was a problem. We had municipal leaders contact our office like, “We understand your team works on vacant property issues.” I had one mayor unfurl a map on his desk of all the vacant properties and ask, “What do we do about these?” Well, every house is going to have a different story for why it was abandoned. Part of this is knowing that story and having a tool to fix each scenario to get that property back to productive use. You need tools to solve each problem property. A case-by-case intervention was not going to get the community the outcome it deserves.

Rachel: People have been talking about land banking in the County for a long time. One of the first questions folks would ask is, “Why hasn’t this happened yet?” This has happened thanks to Representative Windham and his leadership. Until now there hasn’t been anyone to bring a broad coalition together to try and make changes at the state level.

Peter: It’s really his leadership and the whole coalition that will ensure that this is a success. If the legislation is passed, it’s just the first step because then there’s all this implementation that needs to happen. And it’s important that it’s not just technical experts that understand this, but community leaders, people who live across the street from these houses, interest groups, rehabbers, and small developers. All of them need to know about this land banking tool and how it works so they’re involved in shaping it. Lawyers have blind spots, too. Sometimes we’re just looking at the four corners of a document and don’t understand the unintended consequences of a certain line. So Representative Windham bringing everybody together to respond to the drafts created a more informed and thoughtful end result.

Kevin: Yeah, the timing wasn’t right. But then people came together. We all had common interests in land banking and trying to revitalize neighborhoods via housing. Virtual meetings during the pandemic turned out well for us with attendance and getting a wide range of folks to join. And they stayed on the call for two years to get to the point of making the legislation. We got grants from the Center for Community Progress for technical assistance, and we received grants to make the land banking video. We even took part in a national conference and now people who attended that join our calls every two weeks.

Peter: If the coalition is successful, maybe this could mean that Missouri can be a model for something positive. Maybe other cities, states, and regions can learn from this coalition approach to vacant properties.

- State Representative Kevin Windham, Missouri House of Representatives, and Peter Hoffman and Rachel Waterman, Neighborhood Advocacy Attorneys for Legal Services of Eastern Missouri

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Kevin, Rachel and Peter at our Community Development Family Reunion event on April 20th!

2023 Growing in Equity & Antiracism Awardee, Erica Williams!

Congratulations to Erica Williams, Executive Director and Founder of A Red Circle and President of North County Community Betterment LLC, recipient of our 2023 Growing in Equity & Antiracism Award!

The Growing in Equity & Antiracism Award recognizes a person who:

• Demonstrates a deep and honest commitment to transforming work being done in the St. Louis region so that it is more equitable, just, and antiracist.

• “Walks the talk”—goes beyond verbal commitments to ask hard questions, embrace and push through discomfort, work to rectify inequities where they exist, and take action.

• Actively works to dismantle systems of oppression.

Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew met with Erica to learn more about her and her work. Here’s some of what Erica had to say.

I live in the City of Florissant and was working at a law firm in Clayton when Michael Brown Jr. was killed in Ferguson in August 2014. Even though I’m a Black woman who was active in my church and neighborhood, that event spurred an awareness in me that I hadn’t always centered my life around racial equity. I had Black pride and was raised in a very Black-centric household: “Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud!” But I never thought I should be doing more for Black people. I was focused on raising my family. I’m married. We have five children and one grandbaby — a dog. So making sure they were straight was my main concern. 

My husband and I both grew up in North County. We moved to what we thought was a pretty good school district. I wanted to be somewhere my kids could have the same experiences we did. But the North County where we grew up is a lot different now. There are fewer stores, restaurants, and places to go for entertainment. We used to have a movie theater and Chuck E. Cheese and ShowBiz Pizza. We didn’t have to go as far as St. Charles or South County like we do now to take our kids to do basic things like that, but now so much has closed over the years. And with things closed, people moved away, which created disinvestment. It eliminated money in the region and you can see that not only in buildings, streets, and schools but in how people feel about themselves.

When people go outside and see green grass and flowers and their families going to work in the morning, it creates a sense of worth that they also have to do well because things are well in front of them. If you go outside and places are closed and vacant and potholes are in the street, it’s like, “Why should I even care? Why should I do things required for good citizenship? If you all don’t care, why should I care about homework, coming to school on time, or voting?”

So when Michael Brown Jr. was killed and they left his body in the street for four hours, I had a son in middle school. A bunch of us parents went to the school to welcome the kids back because the start was delayed a week since protesting and rioting was happening and the district was concerned about safety. During that interim, a bunch of moms and I got together and made posters that said “Welcome back!” and “You’re safe here.” That, for me, was the beginning of looking into what it means to pay attention to racial equity.

My family and I went to a bunch of protests. We didn’t go to West Florissant because that was a little more action than I cared to be a part of. But we did go to North Florissant across the street from the police station. I took my elementary and middle school kids. They got to hold signs, see what was happening, and learn why they couldn’t go back to school yet. And this put me on a path to paying attention to disinvestment.

Living in Florissant and working in Clayton, I never really saw what was in the middle. I just drove on the highway, so I wasn’t paying attention. Once I did though, I started to realize how what happened in Ferguson was not a one-shot thing. It was brewing under the surface. And Michael’s death, the subsequent treatment of his body, his family, and the response by people outside of the community were very telling. Okay, people went and broke windows. They probably shouldn’t have done that. But I understood the angst. It was the name-calling and using the term ‘thug’ that bothered me. We have four sons and one daughter.

At the time, we were members of a predominantly white Evangelical church. One of my sons was on the praise and worship team. He has long dreadlocks and he’d be on stage singing and shakin’ his locks, gettin’ excited about the spirit. My husband also played the drums there. And the church members’ response was, “How come people are destroying everything? They’re tearing up their own community.” I was like, “Wow, that’s what y’all care about, not about this 18-year-old baby? His mom? None of that? But you have something to say about these buildings?” So that changed my relationship with that church. I stuck around until I formed A Red Circle.

I’m pretty active on social media and the tone of my posts started changing a lot. People were afraid of me. My friends and I were in a bible study and all the members were Black on purpose so we could have space to be ourselves. And they were like, “Erica’s becomin’ militant! She gonna form a new Black Panther power.”

“And it’s called A Red Circle!”

“That’s right! That’s what we do.”

My cousin and a friend of hers who is Jewish formed a mom’s group to help their Black and Jewish children communicate better. It was cool! And inspiring. And through that group, I learned the term redlining. I was in my doctoral program, writing papers, figuring out what I wanted to do. I began reading For The Sake of All by Dr. Jason Purnell and restrictive deed covenants and the Shelley vs. Kraemer Supreme Court case along with other cases that followed because St. Louis was really intentional about segregation and where they put their resources. And I started to see the shift from North City to North County and South City to South County. Growing up, we didn’t go into the City much except to go to the Zoo or Busch Stadium or to see family. Then I was in my car one day driving east towards Kingshighway down the Delmar Divide and things became more visually apparent for me.

So my little bubble burst and my eyes were open and I began to pay attention to stuff. I went to this anti-racism get-together at a church in Florissant and I just knew, “We need to fix this. The first thing we need to do is figure out the what and then the how and what’s needed.” And it kept coming back to this lack of investment — in schools, neighborhoods, grocery stores. So when I formed A Red Circle, just thinking about all those components needed for a healthy thriving community, it formed a circle in my mind. And, because of racism, those are the issues that came to be, but we all bleed red.

I started looking at who was doing what, where, and how they were doing it. And I began noticing patterns. There were a lot of nonprofit resources in North City with a few in North County. And there were a lot of restrictions to getting services and support. Like, you have to live in this particular spot and be in this income bracket. Well, just because you live in some zip codes doesn’t mean you’re fine and well. In fact, during the pandemic, we were serving families with groceries, hygiene products, and things of that nature and we had to add some zip codes because no one was helping people in those regions. We’re talking Maryland Heights, Overland, Bridgeton. And we didn’t check income. If we got a call saying, ‘We need help,’ then they needed help. We trusted that people knew what they needed.

We had a plethora of issues I wanted to tackle, like that felony box on job applications. Oh my goodness, I learned there’s a lobbying group that’s just against that. We also wanted to tackle payday loans which have support all around the world with those triple-digit interest rates. Hearing there’s a politician supportive of the whole payday loan industry was a disappointing eye-opener. A lot of families in North County are led by single Black mothers who now make 55 cents to every dollar a white man makes. It used to be 62 cents and it went down. So what does that mean for households that still have to pay the same cost as everyone else for bread and diapers? Families are trying to make those little dollars stretch. So there’s just so much I’ve been learning over the years about this work and how stuff takes time and how it’s hard to make some movement.

While I was still working as a paralegal, full-time mom, wife, and a little active in the church, I decided to try this nonprofit thing. I was driving in the neighborhood and I was driving a long time before I saw a grocery store. I started wondering, “Where do people get food? What about a salad?” I made a post about it and someone replied, “QuickTrip.” I was like, “And that’s acceptable?” That told me what some think of people like me and people who live near me. So I was figuring out how we wanted to do a whole bunch of things, but it was going to take an army and a whole lot more money than what we had. I thought of five focus areas to begin with: employment, education, holistic living, policy, and the arts. And the center of all of that is food.

Of course, there are challenges. Funding is number one because I am a Black woman and lead a nonprofit. I’ve come to realize how the industry is very white female-dominated. It’s their jam. I was not prepared. You think of nonprofits and it’s like, “How nice! Everyone must be helpful and loving.” Not always. There is competition within territories. Thankfully, I’ve been able to join in some cool coalitions, collaboratives, and partnerships to find like-minded people who have little to no ego, want to get stuff done, and see communities they love flourish and thrive. Getting with those people has been a breath of fresh air.

STL Mutual Aid is one of those groups. I met Julia Ho when she advertised an event happening at the Thomas Dunn Learning Center in South City. A Red Circle’s work is in North County and we wanted to get the word out. We prepared some healthy refreshments to take and she said to keep track of the meals we were giving away so we could get reimbursed. So we made some healthy things with fresh produce, brought it, and cooked it. We were just gonna come down and give away food, but she actually reimbursed us. I was like, “Okay, you’re about what you're saying.” We started learning about each others’ work and then A Red Circle joined Solidarity Economy St. Louis to meet more groups.

The next year we worked together on CommonBound, an international conference hosted at Harris Stowe. I led a tour from the university to North County so folks could check out our work and I took them to my friend’s garden. Turns out, people pay for that. They paid to buy a ticket and the proceeds went to A Red Circle. What a fascinating world. And a super cool model. So we went to Canton where Michael Brown Jr. was killed. I showed them the plaque. They took pictures. We had a moment of silence. Some then prayed and some cried. It was so impactful. And it was hot out that day. People got to sweat and work and help my friend get her garden going. Until then, I had never been in a space like that. I came from banking and law. So from there, we started to figure out how to keep doing with what we started.

I was working with STL Mutual Aid when we started a group called ReBIRTH — Reclaiming Black and Indigenous Roots, Tradition, and Healing. It was Black and indigenous people getting together through a cultural lens. Like, let’s get food to people in a way that aligns with our cultures, not just about a rich person giving us something. It was a coalition between Solidarity Economy St. Louis, Native Womens Care Circle, A Red Circle, and other groups. We were going to do things like skill shares to teach farming and how to start businesses. Whatever skills we had, we were helping each other. So if you wanted to do something, you didn’t have to find someone and pay them to do it. You could just do it. We’d go to each others’ events. The first meeting was so much fun. Julia brought Taiwanese food. The native women cooked native food. I probably brought chicken. It was gonna be the best. And then…COVID.

When COVID hit, I had a plethora of diapers because we were getting ready to work with Jamaa Birth Village to help them get healthy food and cook for them to make sure they were having healthy babies. So we just decided to start getting the resources out. And the more we did, the more people were calling us: “I hear you’re doing such and such. I know a family in Florissant who needs groceries.” The first family we delivered to, the dad didn’t speak English. I don’t speak Spanish, so I was using Google Translate and we were emailing and texting. He gave me a list of what his family needed, so I dropped it off. We were doing safe porch drop-offs. So I typed in my phone, “Your groceries are on your porch.”

We started getting more phone calls and that’s when I knew I had to create some structure around this thing. Funders started giving money. Emails came in like, “I hear you’re giving out groceries. Do you need money?” At first, I was just buying things. I had a table in my living room and things at Julia Ho’s place. Eventually, we brought stuff here to the office because it was overflowing everywhere else. Then we got this second space in this building.

We started getting calls beyond groceries that people needed other resources, too. They needed to talk to someone because they were stuck in their house and lonely. They needed to find a doctor. Their bills were piling up and the electricity was getting cut off because they couldn’t work. So we raised more money. We got federal funds from St. Louis County through the CARES Act. And we were able to hire people and we got volunteers who helped coordinate and do inventory. It was exciting. But eventually those funding streams petered out.

Our intention in starting A Red Circle was to work on long-term systemic change. We wanted to impact the food system to get people investing in the region with stores. So we started growing food. I became a master gardener. I started growing food at this one church. We had three garden beds and I helped other people with their beds. I needed space to grow. Me and a college student were canvassing and she had a health survey on her laptop. We’d knock on doors and talk to folks about food. Where do you get your food? Are you happy with the food in North County? What would you like to see? And the results showed people wanted a farmer’s market.

So we opened the Healthy Flavor Community Garden & Market where we have food that we grow and other farmers can bring theirs. The ladies in the church’s kitchen told us to come to come back one Sunday to meet the pastor. So I went, sat at the banquet, we ate, and I told the pastor what we wanted to do. He said, “I have the perfect spot for you.” They have a picnic area with a pavilion and concrete, so we opened our market there, partnered with others, and started gardening some more. The YMCA gave nutrition classes and people would get a voucher to get food if they went.

Vegetables are good, but you can’t just have bland food. You gotta have flavor. So we grow a lot of greens and lettuces and chards as well as garlic, onions, herbs, and all kinds of yummy things to make good salads and stir-fries. We sell food from May through October, we do nutrition education, we do exercise and cooking demonstrations. One of our workers makes Chinese food. Another makes a salad with watermelon, cucumbers, and feta cheese. People were like, “I would have never put these together.” If you sell good products, you can sell your products there because we want to create commerce for people who make stuff and want to do stuff. You know, I’m just gonna find a way to make it happen.

In 2019, my nonprofit raised over $100,000. I was like, “Look at us! We’re legitimate. We’re a real nonprofit now.” Awards are great. People are paying attention, but it’s hard for this work to translate to the ground. I just want to see my community thrive. We’re trying to raise the demand for fresh produce. When you’re in a region that has a lot more junk food and processed foods, the palette changes. People are used to eating canned or frozen vegetables, not necessarily fresh ones. So people may not buy the latter and fresh costs more. So we kind of wet people’s whistles. People know about collards. Beet greens were a hit last year. Tatsoi is like a heartier spinach we’ve grown. Tokyo bekana is our farmer’s favorite crop to grow in St. Louis.

Every year has had its challenges. When I was still working at the law firm, I did what I could to grow A Red Circle. But I realized it would take a lot more than just my spare time. I needed to make connections, learn about stuff, and figure stuff out. In 2017, someone asked, “So how much you gonna pay yourself?” “I can pay myself? Oh, okay.” Then, 2018 was my first full year running the organization — growing a board, establishing a presence, making connections, figuring out who’s doing what and where and how we can be a part. In 2019, it was cold at the garden and market, so we came inside and served chili while giving people their vegetables. We’d have people come in to do voter registration, read books for the kids, or give art kits to families to bring home and do together. We leverage whatever we can.

When Michael Brown Jr. was killed, I couldn’t believe people were treating the Black community like they did. I began channeling that anger into this more productive use of my time and not just complaining on social media. And people responded with, “You’re right. Good point. We should get together. Let’s do this. Let’s have coffee.” The first time someone invited me for coffee, I was so confused. But I just wanted to pick their brain on how to get some action going on a community that has so much vacancy. So I left work at 2 o’clock, had coffee, and we talked. By September 2017, I ran out of PTO. My job was like, “Where are you going?” I finally told them, “I’m leaving. I founded an organization that I have to work full-time now.” One of the attorneys cried. My role ended up getting split among four or five people. But here, we can use more help, I tell you. We could easily triple our staff and not change anything about what we’re doing. Just do it more efficiently.

I don’t think I’ve accomplished a lot. But sometimes when I’m not in the space with people who think like me, it is surprising that we have so far to go. When I’m with my people, we all see what needs to be done and work to get it done as much as we can. Then there are other folks who don’t hang around people like us and everything is still so brand new. We had a group come to Good Food Friday from one of the places we bank with. So our banker brought her colleagues to work with us. None of them live in North County and probably never went there before and one of the ladies asked, “So where are the grocery stores around here?” “Ah, you noticed!” So any of the terminology — the new, the old, the current — none of it had come across her desk. Food — fill in the blank — desert… justice… swamp… apartheid. None of it. She just figured every neighborhood looked like hers where you can just get in your car, go down the block, and shop. So we continue to raise awareness about issues like that.

I was talking to our insurance agent when making out our application and he was so surprised to hear pre-K and kindergartners getting suspended from school. That’s another example of the stuff we see that we’re trying to raise awareness about to get funding to support. Not only am I doing the work that needs to be done, but I have to bring in this anti-racism piece to educate you on why this is needed. I was at a seminar one day and they were talking about community gardens. One lady said, “They are not cute and fun. They are necessary because we don’t have stores. All we have are 7-Elevens and liquor stores and convenience stores. They are an act of resistance.” So that’s the work I do, but it’s not necessarily the work I’m funded for. I’m funded to buy tools and supplies for the garden. And we have to plant a garden to teach about nutrition.

My tactics for addressing racial equity are more the tangible pieces of it — the things people can see, feel, and taste. I’m not trying to talk to you to make you feel good like you learned something but then get to go home to your nice neighborhood and not ever have to get uncomfortable, do anything like shift power or money, or put investment into a space. When we say racial equity, we mean helping a majority Black community rise and the people who live in that community rise. Because racial equity is not just for Black people, it’s across the board. It means everyone is treated how they deserve to be treated because they are human, not because I’m Black and I need more help or I’m white and I have more power. There are white people in this community, too, and we’re gonna work with everybody. We’re not gonna treat someone better or worse because of their race. We’re gonna make sure that with whatever we’re doing, and if we need to put a little extra over here or over there, that’s what we’ll do. Because equity is that gap. I always explain it to people using a housing example You owe this much, but you’re house is worth this much. That gap is the equity. So if you’re looking at the way laws were, perhaps Blacks couldn’t buy or own. Okay, well, that’s now illegal. But you never did anything to close that gap when it was legal.

What advice do you have for other organizations or businesses that proclaim but don’t practice equity?

They need to close. Straight up. They either need to get out of the way or support the organizations that are practicing equity work. Because they’re in the way. The funding space is already competitive enough. Some days I’m writing grants for groups that fund children and animals. Why am I gonna put kids in competition with puppies so someone can decide which one to fund? Fund one or the other. If you’re applying for funding for an anti-racism class, just charge for the class. Or, if you really want an audience to learn about racial equity, partner with us and we can teach it in the garden while we work.

Even grant funding is inequitable. Every time I fill out an application, it says the grant is competitive. Okay, so you’re having me compete with people who have full-time development staff, data staff, and employees who can execute logic models. We’ve been written into a couple of larger grants with organizations who aren't located in North County because they need the presence for their DEI whatever. One organization that has a lot of money admitted that they tried to do work they weren’t qualified for and got funding whereas we got denied three times by the same funder. The other group may have been more well-staffed and resourced, but they couldn’t get the work done. We have a small staff, reports are turned in on time, you’re gonna see what needs to happen happen, and we’ll get it done.

I spoke at the 2019 Racial Equity Summit about inequities in the nonprofit funding structure. I served on the committee of one funder to help them streamline the process, because you can’t do this work on top of everything and struggle to figure out how to write these grants. So I’ve learned, I gotta be careful of how I structure partnerships in the future. We’re a smaller group. We’re newer. I’m a Black woman. I don’t want to come across as, “Erica doesn’t want to collaborate. Erica’s hard to work with.” All collaborations are not good collaborations. There are funders who want to push them. But you can’t have collaboration without cooperation.

Can you share a story that’s been heartwarming to you about someone you’ve been able to help?”

One of the first families we were able to serve was in our education advocacy program and they had a kid in the third grade. His teacher was brand new out of college and not sure how to deal with his personality. He was in danger of being suspended because he wasn’t listening to what she was asking. So I became his education advocate. I went to his school and went to bat for with him, trying to figure out why he wouldn’t listen. Turns out, he was bored to tears. He was smart. And he would finish his work, ready to do the next thing, but his classmates were stuck on the assignments, so he’d get a toy and do other stuff. I was able to help his teacher find him more challenging work. I was able to help bring in more activities he could do at his desk. I met his mom and she was grateful from having to do a lot of juggling as a single mom.

Anyway, his brother ended up in our program with another volunteer. But, in my kid’s class, I remember seeing a student reading upside down. Her family couldn’t find resource support for her, so we were able to get her a reading specialist. And this is all volunteer on our end because I know how to budget. And as more families learned about our program, we were able to get more and more kids tutoring, mentoring, and household needs so they could focus on school and not be in danger of being suspended. Plus, while all this was happening, we were working on the policy side with lawmakers in Jefferson City to change how suspensions were being handled. That way we could limit suspensions for these little bitty kids and get families the things they needed.

The work I do is validating. After Michael Brown Jr. was killed and we went to those protests, I really began to think. My plan was to get people interested in developing in North County from an economic development and business perspective. But going to those protests, seeing other people, talking to them, and hearing their stories got me thinking about things through a racial equity lens. This is my community. This is my home. I don’t want my kids to have to move away because we don’t have anything here. I know people who would love to do this kind of work full time, but they still have their 9 to 5. So they’re hustling on weekends and evenings and doing things to buy a little food for someone or help whoever get whatever they need. Well, I’m gonna keep doing this, hiring people, and providing medical insurance for them to work here. The more I think about it, there’s a lot that I am doing. So that’s my story. I’m stickin’ to it.

- Erica Williams, Executive Director and Founder, A Red Circle, and President, North County Community Betterment LLC

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Erica at our Community Development Family Reunion event on April 20th!

The Holistic Impact of Community Development by Beyond Housing

Chris Krehmeyer, President/CEO of Beyond Housing, sits down with Humans of St. Louis storyteller Lindy Drew to share the work he and his organization has done in the last thirty years to bring about equitable community change in North St. Louis County. Beyond Housing is a nationally recognized community development organization dedicated to strengthening families and transforming our under-resourced communities to create a stronger, more equitable, and prosperous St. Louis, once and for all.

How can I be at the same job for 30 years? How the hell did that happen? Wasn’t I just 30 years old? We’re sitting at the corner of Page and Ferguson in the City of Pagedale in, what I think, is the heart of the 24:1 Community, which is the boundary of the Normandy Schools Collaborative. One of the biggest memories I have sitting here is with my long time friend and business partner, Mayor Mary Louise Carter, who passed away a few years ago. We’re sitting in Carter Commons, named after her, and I just remember the early days of community work here and how adamant she was that her community was going to get better. She held everyone accountable. “If we’re gonna do it, we’re gonna do it right and do it well.” We started with building some homes around here, but nothing happened and she grew frustrated. She asked if Beyond Housing could come in and build homes and I said, “Sure.”

Since then, we’ve built over 100 homes and rehabbed 200 in the community. We opened up the Pagedale Family Support Center where we do state-licensed after-school programs, summer programs, and a variety of other things. And as we kept asking folks, “What else?” they said, “We haven’t had a grocery store around here since the 1960s. Back then, I knew nothing about economic development other than when someone explained to me what a food desert was, I could tell the area was one. So I told the mayor, ‘We’ll see if we can do that.” She looked at me like I was crazy. But I said, “Why not?” Just the visual change now is stark. I get people saying, “I drove through and was like, what the hell’s going on there?” But if folks don’t come in the dining hall and buy enough of these businesses’ food, they’re not gonna make it. So if you believe in it, come here.”

A lot of times I get asked, “Isn’t this intersection great?” And the short answer is, “Yes.” This intersection is loads better than it used to be. When we started, there was a long-vacant Glaser Drugstore that was falling down and had been closed for decades. Next door was a scary bar. Across the street was Jo-Built Torq Converters. There were two single-family houses and a vacant lot. There was a Chinese restaurant, a banquet hall that had no banquets, a tiny non-denominational church, and a terrible used car place. So we were able to purchase all of it, knock it down, and rebuild this intersection based on what the community said was important to them — a grocery store, housing, access to financial services, a place to sit down to eat, a cinema, and a health clinic. This community gave us direction. We worked hard to figure out how to raise the capital to make it happen. Today we’re moving on with the community to focus on the next intersection and the next and the next.

I know how much work is left to do, so it’s hard for me to celebrate. I tell people that from my office in Pine Lawn, I see people walking to and from Barack Obama Elementary School and they’re my motivation because I know us adults aren’t giving them what they need to live their best lives. We’re still failing them. So I’m unwilling to get off the throttle. With everything we’re doing up here, I’m confident we’re doing the right thing, but it’s not at scale. It’s all nice, but it’s taken me a decade to do this. And we can’t stop here. And it can’t just be us. We had no intention of doing all this ourselves. We just started thinking others would join us. And we need more capital. We’re a wonderfully philanthropic region. I just think the money goes to the wrong places. We need institutions like the Zoo and Forest Park and Washington University. They’re all important things to be a vibrant region, but not to the exclusion of communities and neighborhoods a stone’s throw away. So how do we convince folks to stop sprinkling money around and have the courage to do things differently?

📷| Courtesy of Beyond Housing. Fields Foods ribbon cutting, March 23, 2023.

We’re trying to disprove the belief that things like all these venues can’t work in community. It’s not easy. Look, we got a lot of problems. But by having a grocery store here, nobody’s starving. People have access to good, high-quality food, at a good price. Before, we had a Save A Lot here for 11 years. Fields Foods now opened and it's their seventh store. The way we structured the transaction is that we’re not charging the store any rent. If we did, the math wouldn’t make sense for the owner who’s got to make money. We didn’t ask him or the bank or food shops or any of these businesses to open up here and not make money. We have to disprove the thinking that these businesses can’t work. But what the owner of the grocery store agreed to do is share profits with us. So if they’re profitable, which I’m confident they will be, we’ll share in the financial benefits to that end. We can’t have a West County financial model and assume it’s going to work here. Again, people see movies, people got to eat — so we’re pressing the envelope on what’s possible.

Field Foods in Pagedale almost ready for its grand opening.

I’ve heard this perception that the movies must not be any good because it’s in “this” community. “I’m gonna go to the Esquire or the Galleria.” “Well, have you been to the 24:1 Cinema? Go there. And if we don’t do a good job, call us out. But if you haven’t been, then go.” Look, if we don’t — in this region and in broader society — invest in people and places that have been left behind, we’re all going to continue to struggle whether it’s in St. Louis or elsewhere. With systemic racism and the negative impacts it’s had and the other reasons places have been left behind, there’s this deterioration, abandonment, decay, and all this negativity that continues with that downward spiral. So we need to recognize everything is interrelated and interconnected and we need to intentionally try to turn that around. If all we did as an organization was spruce up this intersection here, it’d be good, but it’s not sufficient enough to turn this place around. That’s why we’re building and rehabbing and have community health workers and staff embedded in schools. Working in the jobs space and on community infrastructure with city leaders, if we don’t do all of that and see how issues and opportunities for growth all tied together, we’re going to continue to fail. Like we have been. In all my work over the decades, there’s nothing we can point to that says there is a community-level change of significance. We’ve spent an untold amount of money on poverty alleviation and where are we at? The answer is we’re not much better than we were 30 or 40 years ago.

What did you think you’d grow up to be when you were younger?

I wanted to play the saxophone like John Coltrane, but I had no musical talent. Then I wanted to play center field for the Mets or the Cardinals. My folks are from St. Louis, but my dad was in the service, so we moved a lot when I was young. We lived in Germany and in New Jersey and came back here when I was in fourth grade. But I didn’t know what I was gonna do after college. Students ask me now, ‘What was your career trajectory?’ and it was to get a job to pay rent. I had no grandiose plan of what to do. I got a degree from Washington University, but what was I gonna do with it? My dad’s an engineer, not by education but by work. My older brother was an engineer by education and now by work. And that gene just flew right past me. My job was to hold the other end of stuff and get my dad a beer.

So when I was in school thinking about what I was gonna do, I took a bunch of classes. Business was kind of boring. I wasn’t dedicated enough for law. Well, I stumbled into an urban studies class because it started late morning, early afternoon. It sounded like I could get a good grade in that. Then when I started the class, I thought, ‘This is kind of cool.’ I worked five years to pay for school in addition to the sizeable loans I had to take out. And when I got my degree and all my debt out of school, I couldn’t find a job. My dad was like, “Told ya so.”

I did internships at the City of Webster Groves and the City of University City and landed a job at the Housing Authority of St. Louis County in 1986 where I made $16,800 starting. I was like, “Cool. I can pay rent.” The first three years I worked in the Section 8 department and every day I saw about 10 families, typically single moms, looking for a place to live. So I’d take their check stubs and birth certificates, put them in our system, give them a list of everyone who accepted Section 8, and say, “Good luck.” And every day I’d hear their stories.

For folks who fly through this intersection or have never been here, what are the changes that were made that affect the everyday person who uses it?

The visual changes are the big dramatic pieces. You’d roll through here and probably wouldn’t remember much. It was pretty nondescript: abandoned, vacant, underutilized. Nothing would stand out because there wasn’t a lot going on here. Once we started knocking stuff down and seeing new things coming out of the ground, things changed. For example, we made the grocery store building all brick instead of out of fake siding to make a statement. The community needed to know they get to have the good-looking stuff. All the buildings are fronted to the street intentionally. We didn’t want parking lots in front, so it was all about what is here. I’m not a big fan of one-story strip malls. The world has enough of that. So, again, it was a sense of a look and feel. We planted trees and flowers, we narrowed the roads, and there’s green space next door to the Carter Commons to do pop-up events. People want to have fun stuff in their community because they deserve to have gathering spaces and pride in where they call home. The community said there was no place to have entertainment, so we did an analysis of if the community sees movies. And, sure they do, but they didn’t have anywhere nearby to go.

So the grocery store model was, we’ll build the store and someone else can operate it. Well, we can build a building. But we called all the movie theater operators in St. Louis and nobody wanted to run the cinema. They asked where it was gonna be, we gave them the address, and they said, ‘Good luck.’ So we’ve been operating it for about eight years. Tickets are $6.50-$9.50 — the most affordable prices in town. The first show was a James Bond film. The level of excitement for the movie theater was greater than the grocery store. And this is also a doctor desert, so we brought health care here. We brought sit-down restaurants and a community kitchen. And we didn’t want to have a lot of social services here. This was meant to be retail to build a vibrant community at a major intersection.

I walk around these buildings all the time and talk to my employees: “How are you doing? How’s work? How’s the family?” Be present and make sure people know you care about them. You know, I’ll pick up trash around the buildings and people say, “Who’s the guy in the suit? What’s up with that dude?” The whole idea of trust-building is never-ending. I never once want people to think, “They can do whatever they want now because they’re Beyond Housing.” No, there are still expectations this community has for how we interact with them and how we do our work. We are imperfect. We’ve made mistakes along the way. I’ve apologized a number of times in public because we didn’t do things the right way. So my hope is when it is time to leave the organization, I’m leaving it in great hands. And I’m gonna walk away and not look back, because the new leader needs to do their own thing and doesn’t need me anywhere near here.

When you meet someone new, how do you explain St. Louis?

There’s the generic, “it’s a small town that occasionally feels like a big city.” Many years ago, a mentor of mine said, “We’re good at polite mediocrity.” Because we don’t want to offend anyone related to tackling the hard stuff and we’re willing to keep kicking the can down the road. So, until we have the regional courage to think about what our problems are and how we are going to solve them in a different way, we’re gonna continue to fade relative to everyone’s perception of St. Louis. Folks are doing things, and it’s not enough. It’s not amplified, nor is it coordinated. We need regional leadership to compel change to happen in a different way than what we’re doing today. And don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of great things happening. And we need to keep doing those things and more if we want to create a stronger St. Louis for everyone.

I get weary of the same old tired conversations about crime and public education and, and, and… In Pagedale, there are indicators of progress. The average sales price of homes per square foot has gone up 338% and, in that same window, crime has gone down 42%. Great trend lines, but not good enough. There’s always more to do. I am hopeful. We’ve been working on it all these years. It’s just about telling a different story. When I talk about the work, I don’t talk about the 24:1 footprint, because that makes it feel small. ‘Where is that? Why would I care about that?’ So I talk about the St. Louis region. Even though some think it’s just a St. Louis City problem. No, it’s a regional problem. And we think we have a model that with enough investment can be replicated. There’s nothing we’re doing here that can’t be used all across the region or even the country. It’s the same methodology — strengthening individuals and families, transforming the physical environment, and creating change at the systems level. And, do all these things in relationship with the community with their voice driving our actions. And I promise, there’s going to be some combination of education, jobs, housing, economic development, and health. Do the work. Get it done. And try to make a difference.

— Chris Krehmeyer, President/CEO of Beyond Housing

We hope you can join us to celebrate community builders like Chris at our 11th Annual Community Development Family Reunion event on April 20th!