Bonnie Hulkower has already explored how the Tenderloin National Forest grew from an abandoned alley, aided by the fertile imaginations of some San Francisco artists. But it's hard to get enough of this story, which shows how communities can take charge of their own surroundings, injecting both humanity and greenery into an otherwise hostile, over built environment.teenagers building tiny, off-grid, mortgage-free homes and economically-challenged families pursuing $700 remodels—decided to pay a visit to the forest, meeting with Daryl Smith, one of the original founders of the project. They talk about how it all began, how it has evolved, and the resulting community-building that has occurred as a result.
On one level, this is a story about the value of urban green spaces. From the successes of the High Line to the planting of a virtual orchard, there are plenty of other unusual and potentially game-changing ways to integrate nature into our cities. On another level, it's a story about people and permission. Rather than wait for funding or permits, the originators of the Tenderloin National Forest simply started planting trees and asked forgiveness later. And that's something communities (and authorities) everywhere should take note of.
This is not a plea for abandoning rules or planning restrictions. Legislation is crucial to maintaining orderly cities. It is, however, a reminder that rules will be broken. And sometimes the results of those broken rules—whether it is Banksy's graffiti or guerrilla-grafted street trees—are so beautiful and/or valuable that the powers-that-be would do well to leave it well alone, let it flourish or perhaps even offer support.