Afternoon at the Capitol: The Congressional Recognition Reception

NRPA Congressional Recognition Reception

 It was St. Patrick’s Day, so how fitting that we would get held up on our post-lunch walk to the Capitol by the Irish Prime Minister’s visit.  We all stood waiting on the presidential motorcade to cross the street for the Congressional Recognition Ceremony that afternoon, and as we waited, we enjoyed the March sunshine and took in the mix of tourists, protesters, vociferous street preacher, and impatient Hill staffers.  The street was buzzing with murmurs about what the President’s schedule had been and when the motorcade would pass through. 

It had been a long time since I had been in Washington on a regular work day, and I remembered part of what I’d loved about the city as a fresh-out-of-college paralegal.  People in D.C. may be over-scheduled and tightly wound, but they do get excited about being close to world events—and to the President himself.  And the friendly chatter on the street fed into my excitement about the awards reception I was heading to—in the Atrium of the Capitol Visitor Center.

For me, a writer who is often conducting interviews by phone or sitting behind a desk, it was a treat just to mingle with NRPA members and colleagues.  But in that setting—and in between stirring speeches by the award recipients—it was a grand and lovely experience.  An afternoon of going back and forth between, for example, chatting with Wyoming’s state parks director about skiing with his kids, and taking in sound bites from lawmakers passionate about parks and the outdoors.  Here’s a pastiche from the various acceptance speeches:

From Georgia Congressman John Lewis: “Parks bind us together. They get us outside…get us moving. They create community. They serve all races, all ages and all abilities. They are sacred; they are special.” 

And from Cynthia Lummis, a Wyoming Congresswoman: "I’m deeply grateful that you gather and that you represent the interests of parks and recreational opportunities for people all over our country, who have differing abilities to enjoy the outdoors, and you make it possible for so many to do that."

And, finally, this very personal reflection from New Jersey Congressman Albio Sires: “When I look back on my life on the things that were important…I realize that’s [in parks] where I made my friends, that’s what got me through college, that’s where I relaxed, that’s where I spent a lot of my time."

I looked around at my NRPA colleagues, most of whom have been working on behalf of parks a lot longer than I have—and I saw smiles of appreciation and enjoyment. And some standing on tiptoes to get a better view of each of the speakers.  It’s wonderful when anyone really understands the value of what you are advocating for day-in, day-out—and even better when people with the power to make change understand.  Acknowledging and commending the work of those legislators was encouraging, I think, for the recognizers as well as those recognized. Despite the fatigue that was setting in at the end of that jam-packed day.  Despite sore feet from standing on marble floors and traipsing all over Capitol Hill.  

During the two-hour commute from downtown D.C. back to Loudoun County that evening, I thought a lot about how worthwhile this work of preserving and protecting parks is.  And, in a time when our nation is so polarized over what is worth spending public monies on, how good it is to see some agreement right inside the Capitol dome on the value of our open spaces, our trails, our health, our community bonds, and our children’s play.

Maureen Hannan

Senior Editor

Parks & Recreation Magazine

Maryland Parks Go to Washington: Shadowing our Members on Capitol Hill

The group of Maryland NRPA members I shadowed was fortunate:  Their Hill visits were with lawmakers sympathetic to parks.  I heard a couple of stories as we navigated the halls of the Longworth building about past meetings with brusque, impassive, or even hostile representatives.  And, budget issues being what they are, I would not have been surprised to find an edge of tension in the room.  But these were cordial visits, and the aides were welcoming and attentive.

The first visit was to Congressman Chris Van Hollen’s office.  Van Hollen’s aide ushered us in, seated us in a little conversational grouping around a coffee table, and motioned with his legal pad for us to begin the spiels. 

The first to speak was Rose Colby, from Prince Georges County’s parks and rec agency.  A well spoken, thoughtful, matter-of-fact woman, she prefaced her comments with an acknowledgment of how supportive Rep. Van Hollen has been of parks.  She then outlined a few of the key issues we had all been briefed on by NRPA’s policy experts that morning.  Glancing down briefly at the summary card from the folder, Rose addressed the Centers for Disease Control and Preventions Healthy Communities Program.  She outlined the position of NRPA (and her own agency) that Healthy Communities funding should be maintained at $22.7 million in FY12.  The aide asked a couple of questions—questions that demonstrated that he had both a working knowledge of the legislation and a desire to understand better what was at stake.

So far, so good. 

Rose handed the baton to Dalton Mann, a citizen member with a long history of park involvement.  Dalton’s talking point was the Land and Water Conservation Fund (LWCF).  True to the morning’s coaching, but in his own impassioned style, Dalton hit on the high points of LWCF, emphasizing the reasonableness of authorizing 40% of the fund for stateside funding.  (When the LWCF was first created in the 1960s, 60% had actually been earmarked for stateside—and the message NRPA is working so hard to drive home is that 40% is both true to the intent of the original legislation and a perfect, tax-hike-free way to support parks.) The aide had no questions this time—he simply nodded noncommittally and took notes.  (As a newbie, my take on all of this was that 40% is not a bad thing to shoot for at all—and that NRPA’s arguments are sound.  But that, airtight arguments aside, there’s probably an all-out feeding frenzy going on around the LWCF pot.) 

Dalton wrapped up his LWCF points, and then it was time for Paul Dial, head of Frederick County’s park department, to speak to some remaining points about transportation and environmental/outdoor education.  Paul had the quiet authority of someone who really is just trying to do his job and serve the needs of his customers.  He’s clearly not the kind of guy who gravitates toward politicking—but, as he told me later, he does make sure to make his voice heard at Leg Forum each hear.  He talked to Van Hollen’s aide about the brand-new nature center his agency just opened—and how closely the nature center will be partnering with the county’s schools. 

The upshot?  Park and recreation agencies should be able to partner with schools for State Environmental Literacy Plans—and receive some of the funding that goes along with that functional relationship.  As I sat there taking it all in, I gave Paul major points for bringing federal-level legislative issues down to something as concrete and immediate as the service a local nature center provides in educating schoolchildren.

Paul then told about all that Frederick County is doing to connect parks through trails—and to make for a healthier, more livable community.  He also made sure to note what that enhanced quality of life does for home values, no matter what the economic climate.  The aide, as it turns out, likes to camp with his family in a park that is located in Frederick County.  He was unaware of all that is happening to connect parks through trails, and he seemed excited about the prospect.

A reminder that legislators and their aides (and their families) need and love parks and open spaces, too. Legislators at all levels of government, not just Capitol Hill.  But, I must admit, I especially liked thinking about all of the bustling, appointment-minded Hill people shedding their suits for jeans and hiking boots to pack up the minivans and find a little serenity and family time.  Parks humanize and restore us all—and at some level, I think we all recognize that.

Maureen Hannan

Senior Editor

Parks & Recreation Magazine

Visit to Legislative Forum: A Crash Course in Park Advocacy

Capitol Hill has always seemed like alien territory to me.  I like writing about policy, and I like learning about policy.  But something about the Hill--and all of its staffers and lingo and inner circles and very young people in power suits—has just always made it seem like a small, distant, white-dome-dominated foreign country to me.  Then again, I never had anyone act as a guide, either….

Early yesterday morning, I joined NRPA members and coworkers at the Grand Hyatt in Washington, where we gathered to begin the second day of the annual NRPA Legislative Forum.  I was there to watch, listen, Tweet, learn, meet, greet, and shadow members in their visits with legislators.  I went anticipating a day of good, solid “prepping” for writing about the Forum. And I came away with much more than context for an article.  When I went home at the end of that jam-packed day, I took with me a fresh understanding of advocacy—and an even greater appreciation for both the sophistication of our members and the essential public policy role that NRPA plays. 

Let me explain a little bit about what the experience was like, from the perspective of a writer who is still learning about the history, value, and power of parks in our country.  

The morning session opened with a talk by NRPA’s policy experts, Rich Dolesh, Stacey Pine, and Joel Pannell.  They outlined talking points on critical messages to lawmakers of the 112^th Congress—but not before Joel discussed some Policy 101.  Such important matters as the distinction between spending authorization and appropriation.  We also got a crash course in the history of the Land and Water Conservation Fund and the reasons why LWCF makes for such a magnificent talking point.  (No tax dollars at stake here!  Getting a 40% stateside authorization passed is about sticking with the original intent of a fund drawing from oil companies drilling from the Outer Continental Shelf.) Stacey and Rich then filled in some of the blanks about transportation and health issues affecting federal funding for the nation’s parks.

We were prepared for the next step:  to take the glossy, information-rich NRPA talking-points folders in hand and climb onto buses heading over to the Hill.  Time to fan out and keep appointments with legislators. My colleague, Managing Editor Beth Beard (a Maryland resident) asked me if I’d like to join up with the Maryland Recreation & Park Association members she’d connected with.  

For the next two hours, I would watch our members in action, explaining passionately and articulately to Congressional and Senate aides the opportunities in front of the lawmakers of the 112^th right now to protect parks and thereby enrich their constituents’ lives.  I’ll tell you all about that introduction to clear-headed member advocacy in the next post. 

Maureen Hannan
Senior Editor
Parks & Recreation Magazine

Budding Friendship

This weekend found me scrutinizing the thin branches of the weeping cherry tree in my front yard. The blossom buds were frustratingly tiny, not surprising given that our nights have still been falling below freezing more often than not. Blossom watching is a springtime obsession of Washingtonians, who often will banter about the different varieties of cherry trees and, most importantly, attempt to predict when they will bloom. First come the classic yoshinos, usually in the last week of March or the first week of April, then the weeping cherries, and finally the double-blossomed cherries, which do not appear until the trees leaf out in May.

We got hooked on this drug of spring by the Japanese back in 1912 when they sent us a gift of over 3,000 cherry trees, which were planted on national park land around the Tidal Basin. Similar gifts brought cherry trees to New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and other U.S. cities. But however much we may fuss over them, our fascination with cherry blossoms pales like a fading petal compared to the Japanese themselves. In Japan, the northward march of the blossoms is the only thing to rival baseball on the morning national news coverage each spring. And hundreds of thousands of people spread out their blue tarps in city parks like Tokyo’s Ueno Koen, take off their shoes, and kick back with a boom box, a light beer, and maybe some squid jerky. Even when the blossoms start to fade and fall, you’ll still see groups of office co-workers taking a rare and much deserved break in the park together, hoping for that lucky moment when a blossom petal falls into their sake cup.

This spring of course is a heartbreaking one in Japan. City parks served as a more literal refuge on that terrible day, much like San Francisco’s Dolores Park did during the 1906 earthquake. News coverage showed rattled office workers huddled together in Tokyo’s parks, looking for a place to rest, regroup, and perhaps attempt to call loved ones. The overall scope of the disaster is still unclear, except for the fact that it is very, very bad.

As we are prepare for our rites of spring, let us do what we can to aid in the relief effort for a people whose joy in this season of rebirth has been washed away like so many petals in a rainstorm. Let’s try to give some beauty and hope back this spring.

Elizabeth Beard

Managing Editor

Parks & Recreation

Nothing but the Facts

Every month it is my responsibility to compile the “factoids” that appear in the magazine.  The idea of having a regular compilation of numbers-based facts relating to a particular theme stems from the famous Harper’s Index—and I tend to approach the task as a writing warm-up of sorts each month.  A way to bridge the gap from editing final proofs to delving into the interviews and features that require a bit more planning and thought.  And every month, as I go about assembling my statistical tidbits, I get a surprise.  Sharp, unadorned facts, when they run like jutting vertebrae along the spine of a theme, are nearly always provocative. And sometimes…they are downright convicting.

In the March issue of Parks & Recreation, the facts all come from the 2010 Outdoor Recreation Participation Report, the only detailed study of its kind tracking Americans’ participation in outdoor activities.  (I’d love to take credit, by the way, for knowing all about this fascinating report as part of my regular reading and news-aggregating practices.  But, as often happens, our resident NRPA research specialist, Bill Beckner, shouted this one out to me in response to a plea for help.)

I began reading the report, and one in particular grabbed my attention:  75% of children between the ages of 6 and 12 say their participation in outdoor activities was influenced by an adult.

Some might say this is just pure common sense.  Of course adults influence kids’ decision to get outdoors and play.  But I was a kid in the 70s, and in my experience of growing up, the influence wielded by adults in that department felt more like a straight command: “Hey, g’awn outside.  Don’t expect to see you back in the house until dinner time!”

My kids have had a rather different experience: coaches who volunteer their time to develop their sports skills from a young age, planned hikes, ski weekends, 5K runs, and a neighborhood summer swim league.  Their outdoor time is much more structured and goal-driven than mine ever was.   And I often think about what vastly different philosophies about parenting my peers and I have from my parents’ generation.

But in reading that fact, I realized there is a big, important commonality.  When kids are getting outside a lot for their recreation, there is usually an adult (or group of adults) helping to make sure that happens.  Whether by command or by structured play opportunities. 

Fact is, my best times growing up were spent outdoors with friends—though I recall it took the parental mandate (usually with arms folded) to get me away from the TV.  My kids’ best times are (they would readily tell you) also spent outdoors with friends—though it takes planning and prodding to get them away from the Wii and the Kinect.  Adults who command or who plan and prod make for healthy childhoods with treasure chests full of outdoor memories.  

And a single bare fact tells that story pretty well.

Maureen Hannan

Senior Editor

Parks & Recreation Magazine

Toward a New Order

Having experienced numerous recessions in my professional lifetime, I’ve come to the conclusion that for all their destructiveness, some good comes out of them. It’s not always evident at the time. But you can observe tell-tale signs, especially when you hear the phrase, “New Normal,” as in we’ll be operating in a new normal. The current economic situation, however, is so far from “normal” recessions that we can expect all manner of changes in the coming year and beyond. I’m certain of one thing: the emergence of  innovators in all fields and all areas of the country devising new products, systems, and schemes that this new order will enable.

We’re already seeing that in parks and recreation in numerous ways—from the nimble agencies that transform into special park districts, alter their revenue programs, embrace new technologies, and simply find ways to cut expenses and increase revenues without endangering service delivery. Our March issue features two thinker-doers who interestingly hail from outside the field. Their visions have the potential to help, if not alter, how parks deal with bad economic times. They do it on a large scale. And, ultimately, they support parks for all the right reasons.



Mike and Jenny Messner, partners in the RFTGF project

 A former Wall Street hedge fund manager, Michael Messner observed the vast power of boom and bust in commercial real estate and he lamented the trillions of dollars spent to back stop them, as Senior Editor Maureen Hannan writes. Instead, Messner envisions economic and societal viability in demolishing buildings in the financial “red” and converting  them to green spaces, with part of tracts slated for eventual re-development. His Redfields to Greenfields project currently is centered in Atlanta, where he has partnered with Georgia Tech’s School of Engineering. You can read about his ultimate plan for a federally backed land bank that has the potential to create many new parks while simultaneously (re)engineering the urban landscape across the country in environmentally responsible ways. Page 14.



Urban parks transformer Dan Biederman

 Less complex, but just as compelling for our field, is Dan Biederman’s public-private approach to refurbishing tired and over-used parks and public spaces. The New York-based entrepreneur and former economic advisor to Singapore’s urban development authority first tested his approach successfully with the transformation of New York’s Bryant Park from an eyesore to a popular public space in recessionary 1991. His current project is Boston’s historic Common. Read how Biederman is working with the city, friends groups, and private enterprise to restore this much loved—and used—54-acre park. Page 11.

These are just two examples of what may—or may not—be the new order of how things will be done in parks and recreation. It’s hard to recognize much of this innovation as it forms around us. But it’s there and we will do our best to bring it to you. Keep an eye out for our April issue which will explore the economy and its impact even more deeply.

Phil Hayward

Editor

Parks & Recreation Magazine

Keeping the Gates Open at RedGate (continued)

There’s something to be said for attending certain events in person, rather than just reading about the results later. The Rockville City Council meeting to decide the fate of RedGate Golf Course seemed straightforward but subtle undercurrents in the room told a much deeper tale. There were the knowing glances being passed among the golf course employees in the audience, the park agency staffer sitting with a fat binder of background materials at the ready (only to never be asked a single question), the nervous conviction of the citizen representing the RedGate Advisory Committee, the faint bristling of some of the city council members at the mere mention of the county government and its Revenue Authority courses. Even the seating arrangement of the council was telling, with the three members who seemed more sympathetic to the course sitting on one side while the two budget hawks were together on the other side.

Remarkably, the city council admitted to shouldering much of the blame for the course’s predicament, cutting the marketing budget in the course’s heyday in the 1990s when tee times were full, failing to invest in improving the course over the years, and more recently causing confusion in the local community about whether the course would even continue to operate. However, the council had recently redeemed themselves by contracting with the National Golf Foundation (NGF) to produce a consulting report. The detailed report contained a number of practical recommendations, such how many more tee times needed to be booked per year and how relatively inexpensive capital investments like building a corporate picnic pavilion could help bring the course back to breaking even.

Although as a casual golf course user I found the report somewhat comforting (yay, RedGate is not a lost cause!), it seemed to cause a lot of distress for the course employees and even the citizens on the advisory committee due to one fairly typical recommendation—outsourcing the course management or even leasing out the course entirely. I recognized a lot of faces in the audience (hey, there’s the starter! hey, there’s the pro!) and began to see there was a lot more at stake for some folks than cheap and convenient evening golf rounds. Interestingly, the recreation and parks department staff seemed to be in favor of the outsourcing option, perhaps due to a budget set-up that never gave the agency full control of the situation anyway.

After a long and frankly frustrating discussion, the council decided to issue a RFP with the help of NGF for outside management and/or leasing of the course, but at the same time to also advertise for a savior—a director of golf who could come in and “run it like a business” while still keeping management internal. I’ll report on those developments when they’re ready in a few weeks, just about when it should be time to get back out to the driving range this spring.

Elizabeth Beard

Managing Editor

Parks & Recreation

Banned in New York

Last month New York City outlawed smoking in parks, beaches, and public plazas. With 1,700 parks and 14 miles of public beaches, this is no small matter, practically and conceptually. Smoking bans in parks aren’t new, it’s just the scale of the ban in New York that gives one pause for thought. Many eyes will be on the city to see if it will succeed or fail. Mayor Michael Bloomberg views the ban as a piece of a larger set of public health initiatives (think trans-fats and New York restaurants). Whether you’re a smoker, an anti-smoker, or just a neutral non-smoker, the health reasons for not smoking in parks are compelling. Our new health column in the March issue of Parks & Recreation offers a litany of reasons for why parks should be tobacco-free—protecting children from second-hand smoke, environmental degradation caused by littered butts, the poor example set for children by smoking in public places, and, simply, the contradiction of allowing unhealthy behavior where outdoor living, fitness, and recreation activities are being promoted as a key element of improving public health.

Will prohibiting smoking in New York’s parks and beaches save lives? Last summer when the city was working on the ban, its health commissioner, Dr. Thomas Farley, told the New York Times more people die in the city from the effects of smoking than AIDS, homicide, and suicide combined – 7,500 preventable deaths. But will New Yorkers just smoke somewhere else or, worse, simply ignore the ban altogether, since it is mostly unenforceable? (It relies on citizen peer pressure, not law enforcement.)

All that’s left to argue is the notion of governmental overreach. And that one won’t be settled overnight.

Still, if I had to add one more reason in support of the ban, it would be economics. Just to rid its beaches each year of littered butts costs New York City taxpayers millions of dollars. And in a climate where budget cutting is reaching feeding-frenzy proportions, a million here and a million there will fund a lot of teachers, police officers, and park employees who might otherwise be laid off.

Phil Hayward
Editor
Parks & Recreation Magazine