the folks who used to smoke weed under the glass atrium benches now tend to hang out by the fountain on the side of Blackwell house. It's a strictly worse situation because now the smoke is closer to the playground areas where kids play.
Thank you for sharing that observation. It’s remarkable how the movement of people—even by just a few feet—can change the emotional and sensory landscape for others, especially where children are involved.
I often think of public spaces like a patchwork quilt: each square holds its own character, but how they're stitched together affects the whole. Your comment brings into focus a shift that, while subtle, carries real consequences.
the folks who used to smoke weed under the glass atrium benches now tend to hang out by the fountain on the side of Blackwell house. It's a strictly worse situation because now the smoke is closer to the playground areas where kids play.
Dear George,
Thank you for sharing that observation. It’s remarkable how the movement of people—even by just a few feet—can change the emotional and sensory landscape for others, especially where children are involved.
I often think of public spaces like a patchwork quilt: each square holds its own character, but how they're stitched together affects the whole. Your comment brings into focus a shift that, while subtle, carries real consequences.
Benches are the most available civility the public has to be comforted. To take them away is cruel.