Against 'Anywhere, USA': How Dedicated Residents Are Preserving the City's Soul
- Voice !t Staff
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
⭐️ Special Edition Community Spotlight Post ⭐️
The Richmond Planning Commission's recent vote on the Cultural Heritage Stewardship Plan didn’t happen in a vacuum: it happened thanks to the countless Richmonders who showed up, wrote in, and spoke out. Their stories revealed something deeper than disagreements over development or demolition. They revealed a shared belief that what happens to our neighborhoods is not abstract policy, it’s personal. And Richmonders wanted that recognized.
Across the city, residents reminded Council that agency isn’t just something elected officials hold. It’s something we hold, in our experiences, our attachments, and our insistence that history and progress can live together.
Residents from Church Hill North urged the City not to overlook the places where the fabric of a neighborhood was “teetering on the edge of losing its historic charm,” a plea to protect communities that have long borne the cost of disinvestment.
In The Fan, neighbors wrote with equal urgency, warning against development that had begun to “steal views and sunshine” from long-established streets, not to block growth, but to ensure it respected the character that drew so many families there in the first place. As one resident put it bluntly: “Please don’t ‘Fairfax the Fan!’” — a call to prevent Richmond’s historic neighborhoods from being transformed into generic, oversized, mismatched development that erodes the very soul of the community.
From W. Grace Street came a 45-year story of transformation: what started as a triplex surrounded by drug activity and neglect slowly became a block full of families again because residents believed in the neighborhood’s “potential.” They stayed, invested, restored, and watched community rebuild itself one repaired roof and one returning family at a time.
Others spoke from professional experience: urban planners, realtors, preservationists, and developers, all underscoring that Richmond’s historic neighborhoods aren’t just sentimental relics. They are, as one longtime preservationist put it, the city’s “strongest and most attractive resource.”
Some comments came from residents who had lived abroad or in cities that underwent waves of demolition. They warned Richmond not to repeat those mistakes. One returning resident described watching Nashville lose its personality to unchecked development and said simply: “I don’t want Richmond to become Anywhere, USA.”
Others spoke from the perspective of deeply rooted Black neighborhoods, where demolition has historically erased homes, businesses, and public spaces central to community identity. “What remains needs to be identified, recognized, and protected,” one Jackson Ward resident wrote, a reminder that preservation, when done equitably, is not nostalgia but justice.
Still others described what was at stake in preservation efforts: a Queen Anne mansion in Carver restored into affordable rentals after a fire; the home of Dr. William Hughes saved from demolition and turned into a community gathering place; even archaeological sites like the Shockoe Hill African Burying Ground and Lumpkin's Jail, still at risk without protective measures.
Residents weren’t only worried about buildings lost, they were uplifted by examples of what happens when preservation succeeds. From the adaptive reuse of Richmond Memorial Hospital into housing to the years-long restoration of the Pump House led by volunteers and local foundations, Richmonders highlighted how honoring the past creates real benefits: affordable homes, community spaces, tourism, and civic pride.
A theme ran through nearly every comment: Richmond is special because its neighborhoods still feel like neighborhoods. Because people live in century-old houses that once held someone else’s memories. Because our parks, viewsheds, churches, and schools carry stories. And because residents, from lifelong Richmonders to newcomers drawn here by the city’s character, see themselves as stewards of something bigger than any one building.
When the Planning Commission voted to approve the plan, they didn’t just approve a document. They affirmed that the voices that filled the public record mattered. They acknowledged that community identity is an asset worth protecting and that ordinary Richmonders have a role in shaping how this city grows.
And that’s the thread that binds all these stories together: agency.
Residents didn’t speak because they feared change, they spoke because they wanted a say in it. They showed that participation isn’t limited to the microphone at a meeting. It’s in the emails, the lived histories, the neighborhood memories, the care put into an old house, the volunteer hours at a park, the insistence that what we inherit should be worthy of those who come after us.
Your voice is part of that story too. Whether you commented this round or watched from the sidelines, you’re connected to these outcomes. This moment reminded us that community conversations matter, and Richmond’s future is strongest when more people help shape it.
If you want to stay engaged, help spread the word about Voice !t, keep reading, keep showing up, and keep speaking to the Richmond you want to live in. The decisions made last week may be final — but the conversation about what comes next is just beginning.