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| Opportunities & Exposures: Philanthropy | |||
| How Does the Garden Grow?
Peter Harnik 11/01/2004 |
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One of the great joys of living in a city is wandering to the nearest park for a concert, a picnic or just to smell the roses. In contrast, a truly depressing experience is peering into a run-down park space where garbage and graffiti are the only signs of life. That is why civic-minded philanthropists will often think of funding a new park or upgrading an existing one when they ponder ways to give something back to the cities where they have lived or made it big. Anyone who has contemplated becoming a financial savior to a city park should know, however, that funding is only part of the story behind the fact that some city parks are improving dramatically while others continue to deteriorate. If a park system lacks sound administration and an organized vision, we might as well scatter our money on the ground. In the 1920s and 1930s, every American city had at least one safe and beloved park, immaculately kept and extravagantly staffed at taxpayer expense. However, that was in the decades before America’s attention shifted to the suburbs. After World War II, city parks began a relentless decline, along with the cities themselves. The world imagined New York’s Central Park as some kind of no-man’s land thanks to nightly talk show banter about muggings. Finally, in 1980, a remarkable landscape historian named Betsy Barlow Rogers decided a line had to be drawn: If Central Park was not saved, two great neighborhoods—the Upper East Side and West Side—would collapse along with it. She formed the Central Park Conservancy, a nonprofit organization that manages the park under contract with the city’s Department of Parks and Recreation. Thanks to a Herculean effort and a sensible agreement with the city, the conservancy has been able to raise more than $200 million, and the park is once again an unparalleled oasis in a concrete jungle. The agreement with the city guaranteed that the parks department would maintain its baseline funding and maintenance level, while conservancy philanthropy would go toward capital improvements and major restorations. The success of the Central Park experience has stimulated the creation of similar conservancies in Atlanta, Pittsburgh, St. Louis, Houston, San Francisco and elsewhere, as well as spurring important gifts from both large foundations and individuals. Battle in Seattle Not all private philanthropists have seen their efforts bear fruit, however. Paul Allen, the cofounder of Microsoft, was a major donor in the 1990s to a proposed park and residential development called the Seattle Commons. An interlocking set of political obstacles—including opposition by some property owners, a mayor who flip-flopped on the idea, a simultaneous battle over a controversial stadium proposal and some voter suspicions over Allen’s motives—conspired to bring down the proposal, which lost by only 1,700 votes in a citywide referendum. Anyone considering park philanthropy should ask three questions that will help ensure success. First, does the city park agency provide clear and complete annual financial records of how it spends its budget? If the agency is not fully accountable and transparent, there is a strong chance that a gift will get lost in the city’s general fund. Do not donate the money to the park agency, but rather to a private nonprofit park fund that will work with the city but carefully steward the money. If such an entity does not exist, the best gift to the city might be to start one. Second, does the
park agency want what you want? Was there a public process in which residents
had input into the planning? Ultimately, all city park decisions rest not with
the donor but with what the public desires and needs. Nothing leads more quickly
to negative headlines than the perception that a wealthy individual is trying to
use a major gift to buy goodwill from the city or rework the park in his image.
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