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The greenway is play space
By Brian McGrory, Globe Columnist | July 11, 2006
The Boston Globe, MA
July 11 2006
Why hasn't anyone thought of this already? Right next to the Armenian
genocide memorial park that Big Dig officials plan to build on the
new Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway, we can locate a massive exhibit
about the Irish Potato Famine.
And next to that, a memorial park for Serbian genocide victims. Why
not be contemporary and throw in a monument to the Darfur genocide?
And perhaps something nearby to remember all the Kurds who were gassed
to death in Saddam Hussein's Iraq.
Then we'll need to set aside a block or two in memory of the tsunami
victims. And don't forget all the Americans who died in Hurricane
Katrina.
I mean, hey, we have this new, big, open space in downtown Boston, so
we might as well use it to address past world travesties and current
inequities, and amid it all demonstrate the tragic vagaries of the
human condition. Right?
Wrong, very wrong, and here's why.
Because this wasn't what our new park was supposed to be. It wasn't
supposed to recall tragedy. It wasn't supposed to add to our famous
civic guilt. It wasn't supposed to clutter our psyche, pit one group
against another, and force us to ponder so many universal wrongs that
we're sadly unable to change.
In other words, this park isn't supposed to be our collective
conscience, but our civic playground, not so much a sanctuary of
quiet contemplation as an inviting front lawn designed for urban
celebration. It's a place to go for a takeout sandwich on a wooden
bench or a glass of cold lemonade on plush grass or a mere moment of
tree-lined sanity on the edges of a concrete forest.
This park isn't meant to be profound, but uplifting, not so much the
National Mall in Washington as Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen. It's
not a site for whispers but for laughter.
Why?
Because we need it, that's why. Because we deserve it. Because
for 15 years we've dealt with construction dust, traffic gridlock,
Jersey barriers setting off ever-changing detours involving illogical
one-way streets. Because we were promised a sunny, upbeat park, an
easy path to the North End and the waterfront, a little refuge from
the concrete strains of urban life. And we ought to get it.
Can't we just once build something nice in this town without one
group battling another, without someone claiming discrimination,
without everyone holding out their hands demanding what they believe
is rightfully theirs? Can't we just open a good park?
I have nothing against the Armenians, just as I would have nothing
against any other ethnic group that will inevitably insist on building
a memorial on this very public place. In fact, the Armenian group,
to its considerable credit, has raised millions of dollars to fund
and maintain their park. They've developed a beautiful design.
They've worked within the process that's been presented to them.
The Turnpike Authority, worried over how all the parcels on the
greenway will be funded, is leaping at the idea that someone, anyone,
is promising to pay for and keep up one of the most critical sections
of the park. For Matt Amorello, it's an item to cross off the list.
But no group -- not the Armenians, not anybody else -- should be able
to buy their way onto hard-earned public ground.
Yes, their cause is a good one. Yes, they've done things the right
way. Yes, their heart-wrenching and fascinating history is worthy of a
truly remarkable memorial. So now let's find a place where it belongs.
For starters, everyone might look toward the South Boston waterfront,
to the Fan Pier development being planned by Boston's Joe Fallon.
Under law, he's required to include a certain amount of green space
in his sprawling project. Being a good businessman, not to mention
a friend of the mayor, he may well be appreciative of a fully-funded
park.
And leave the greenway to the people, all the people, as a place to
celebrate life, not to ponder death.
By Brian McGrory, Globe Columnist | July 11, 2006
The Boston Globe, MA
July 11 2006
Why hasn't anyone thought of this already? Right next to the Armenian
genocide memorial park that Big Dig officials plan to build on the
new Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway, we can locate a massive exhibit
about the Irish Potato Famine.
And next to that, a memorial park for Serbian genocide victims. Why
not be contemporary and throw in a monument to the Darfur genocide?
And perhaps something nearby to remember all the Kurds who were gassed
to death in Saddam Hussein's Iraq.
Then we'll need to set aside a block or two in memory of the tsunami
victims. And don't forget all the Americans who died in Hurricane
Katrina.
I mean, hey, we have this new, big, open space in downtown Boston, so
we might as well use it to address past world travesties and current
inequities, and amid it all demonstrate the tragic vagaries of the
human condition. Right?
Wrong, very wrong, and here's why.
Because this wasn't what our new park was supposed to be. It wasn't
supposed to recall tragedy. It wasn't supposed to add to our famous
civic guilt. It wasn't supposed to clutter our psyche, pit one group
against another, and force us to ponder so many universal wrongs that
we're sadly unable to change.
In other words, this park isn't supposed to be our collective
conscience, but our civic playground, not so much a sanctuary of
quiet contemplation as an inviting front lawn designed for urban
celebration. It's a place to go for a takeout sandwich on a wooden
bench or a glass of cold lemonade on plush grass or a mere moment of
tree-lined sanity on the edges of a concrete forest.
This park isn't meant to be profound, but uplifting, not so much the
National Mall in Washington as Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen. It's
not a site for whispers but for laughter.
Why?
Because we need it, that's why. Because we deserve it. Because
for 15 years we've dealt with construction dust, traffic gridlock,
Jersey barriers setting off ever-changing detours involving illogical
one-way streets. Because we were promised a sunny, upbeat park, an
easy path to the North End and the waterfront, a little refuge from
the concrete strains of urban life. And we ought to get it.
Can't we just once build something nice in this town without one
group battling another, without someone claiming discrimination,
without everyone holding out their hands demanding what they believe
is rightfully theirs? Can't we just open a good park?
I have nothing against the Armenians, just as I would have nothing
against any other ethnic group that will inevitably insist on building
a memorial on this very public place. In fact, the Armenian group,
to its considerable credit, has raised millions of dollars to fund
and maintain their park. They've developed a beautiful design.
They've worked within the process that's been presented to them.
The Turnpike Authority, worried over how all the parcels on the
greenway will be funded, is leaping at the idea that someone, anyone,
is promising to pay for and keep up one of the most critical sections
of the park. For Matt Amorello, it's an item to cross off the list.
But no group -- not the Armenians, not anybody else -- should be able
to buy their way onto hard-earned public ground.
Yes, their cause is a good one. Yes, they've done things the right
way. Yes, their heart-wrenching and fascinating history is worthy of a
truly remarkable memorial. So now let's find a place where it belongs.
For starters, everyone might look toward the South Boston waterfront,
to the Fan Pier development being planned by Boston's Joe Fallon.
Under law, he's required to include a certain amount of green space
in his sprawling project. Being a good businessman, not to mention
a friend of the mayor, he may well be appreciative of a fully-funded
park.
And leave the greenway to the people, all the people, as a place to
celebrate life, not to ponder death.