How can we design for Black futures?

What is a Black space? Is it physical, metaphorical, spiritual, or all of the above? Why are Black spaces important? Armando Sullivan is a Harlem based-urban planner and Co-chair for Programming on the board of BlackSpace, a nonprofit working to protect and create Black spaces, offers some perspective on these questions.

Sullivan’s love for urban and Black spaces was shaped by his experience growing up in the Washington region, and having access to mass transit. As a kid, he would take the Metro from his Aspen Hill neighborhood in Montgomery County, Maryland into DC to attend summer camp at the Smithsonian Museums. Later, he would navigate the region to catch shows at the 9:30 Club or hang out at Gallery Place with friends. After switching majors four times during his undergraduate studies, Sullivan discovered transportation planning as a discipline that combined his love for history, reading and writing, and transit.

He talks candidly with GGWash about BlackSpace, the organization, and his passions. The following is an abbreviated version of that conversation:

Connie Trinh: Are Black spaces something you’ve always thought about when you were thinking about urban planning?

Armando Sullivan: Well, it’s something I have never not thought about. From when I first realized I was Black, at about age 3, I feel like I have always been interested in Black spaces because they make me feel a little bit more comfortable. No matter what situation I’m in, whether it’s being with family (I grew up with a big family), Black spaces make me feel good. Growing up in Montgomery County…. I think it is predominately white, but Silver Spring and Aspen Hill are so diverse.

There are a lot of Black people and I’ve always felt more comfortable in school because of that. I appreciated it culturally and from a safety standpoint. That’s why I live in Harlem - I’m surrounded by people that look like me. I feel like less of a target and I feel like I stand out less. I have always deeply appreciated the level of comfort that I feel in Black spaces. When I started urban planning - it was definitely one of my first thoughts: it would be nice if I could use this to create more space for other people.

What do Black spaces look like to you?

It’s really about a feeling and an energy. It’s definitely not any kind of physical thing. I think if you feel your community reflected in your space, that gives you a sense of ease and tranquility. That is the intention of a Black space. Of course, that applies to anyone - even spaces that aren’t oriented around race. Any kind of group that makes you feel more comfortable is a sacred space to protect. That’s what it’s about for me and the organization - it’s creating those spaces. Also, there are so many existing Black spaces that are being threatened, so it’s about trying to preserve those spaces.

In the past year, as a board member, is there something you’re particularly proud of?

I’m really proud of BlackSpace’s current position. The organization has achieved so much since its founding, and we’ve been working really hard as a board for the past year to build out our internal framework and capacity. Through the years, BlackSpace has been able to develop programming, partnerships, and resources with historically marginalized communities throughout New York. Our impact is something I’m really proud of.

It wasn’t until very recently during this terrible pandemic and economic crisis - Or I guess, not even the pandemic, but the civil unrest revamped by George Floyd being murdered, and Ahmaud Arbery being murdered, and Breonna Taylor being murdered - that I started to understand our place, our reputation, and our power in New York’s urban planning. So many of these major organizations have reached out to us to help them align more directly with principles of equity and serving marginalized groups through our manifesto. I’m proud of this reach we have with these government organizations and firms.

The Juneteenth event is what I am most proud of for a lot of different reasons. It was our first real public, virtual event. It was us figuring out what kind of structure could be instituted to feel like a real event and not just a Zoom call. It was cool to be able to do that successfully. Most importantly, through Juneteenth we created a safe space for fellowship and joy in response to the plight of Black people at the time.

Being a Black urban planner, being a Co-chair for Programming, and having this really important Black holiday coming up, the board recognized that this was a good opportunity to take what we were personally feeling and create a space for us to heal. We had all kinds of practitioners from our community participate. Of course we’re urbanists, but we were really trying to create a space for Black people - not just Black urbanists - to see each other, smile, laugh, have camaraderie, listen to music, dance, heal, and feel safe.

Is the way you operate with BlackSpace different from how you operate at your day job? What’s the dynamic with working full-time and being a co-chair?

It’s pretty night and day. I’m not in a position to create a lot of change and disruption in my day-to-day. As a consulting firm, we work with a lot of organizations with very specific processes to follow throughout our project work. But at BlackSpace, we worked for a significant amount of time to create this manifesto that outlines the foundational principles that guide the way that we work.

We are very intentional, from the way we speak to each other in meetings to the way we conduct ourselves at the largest scale. It’s iterative and we’re always seeing what works and what doesn’t work. We’re willing to adjust in the moment if the foundation of any project we’re doing doesn’t align with our manifesto.

I can imagine that being really disorienting.

As a Black person, I have been code switching my entire life. MoCo is diverse and I went to predominantly Black schools, but I was also the only Black person on soccer and swim teams starting as young as age 5. I’m used to having to navigate between these two different identities. As much as it is entrenched within me, it is still exhausting.

Do you feel like you can bring part of the work you do at BlackSpace to your day job? Are people interested at all?

My firm was supportive when I applied to join the BlackSpace board. They have also always been supportive of sending me to different conferences like Untokening in Detroit in 2018 and Black in Design at the Harvard Graduate School of Design in 2019. They’re very receptive to opportunities that I find to strengthen our network as it pertains to diversity, especially in thinking about leadership. It’s simple enough to recruit entry level people, but when you’re trying to find executives of color, womxn executives, or any perspective that isn’t oriented in straight male whiteness - that can be tough. Leadership of color is harder to attract because they have more options about where they want to work. I appreciate that my firm has supported me in trying to build my network and their network of practitioners of color.

I’m happy to hear they support you. I wish they would support you in other ways like bringing BlackSpace’s manifesto principles into the way business is conducted. My hope is that it is less night and day. You’ve mentioned capacity - It’s a quick way to burn out having to navigate those structures.

It’s tough, because we’re talking about such historically entrenched processes around urban planning and development in a city like New York. BlackSpace is rooted in iteration and unlearning. For us, everything we do is based on that manifesto. It’s part of our core that we’re always willing to challenge the way we see and do things. But for a city agency or large firm, they would have to be willing to uproot their structure and redefine the whole field’s perspective and practice. It’s really about centering the realities of marginalized people. I don’t know if there will ever be that willingness to break down and rebuild the whole system.

One can hope. The work you’re doing is showing that it’s possible to have other models. We’re listening to each other and not trying to repeat the status quo.

The best thing about BlackSpace is that it changes the way I think about people and the way I see connections. It’s helped me appreciate how much less of a silo urban planning should be. I’ve always recognized the interrelatedness of the many disciplines within our field of planning - transportation, economic development, housing etc. But even outside of these disciplines, BlackSpace’s manifesto shows that planning can work with communities to amplify their agency through centering their lived experience.