The Hidden Power Grid of a City Isn’t Its Infrastructure — It’s Its People

In Jacksonville and beyond, public space is becoming the engine for civic connection.

In the discourse of modern cities, we often talk about “energy” as a metaphor for economic momentum, cultural assets, or nightlife options. But there’s another kind of energy — harder to quantify, easier to feel — that pulses at the heart of a healthy city: civic energy.

Food Truck Rally at Liberty Point led by Berkman Residents to address being in a food desert

Civic energy is not the product of neon signs in the nightlife district or number of new businesses opening. It’s the quiet current that flows through shared spaces — the collective spark that makes a city feel participatory, personal, and alive.

Urban theorist Jane Jacobs, in her seminal work The Death and Life of Great American Cities (1961), argued that the success of a city isn’t measured only by its buildings or budgets, but by the “sidewalk ballet” of everyday life — the spontaneous encounters, the street-level choreography of strangers becoming neighbors. In many ways, Jacobs was describing civic energy long before we had the language for it.

Chef Naps, of Moncrief, transformed a vacant lot called Ford on Bay into a fine-dining, long-table sit-down for 33 guests to experience a 5 course meal family style.

And in today’s urban environments, public space is the civic battery. These are the places where people plug in—through conversation.

At a time when much of life is increasingly digital, polarized, and fast-moving, these analog spaces — parks, fountains, sidewalks — have become even more essential to human connection. They’re where we gather and recharge not only ourselves, but the social fabric of our communities. Public space is where social life weaves.

Jacksonville as a Case Study

In Jacksonville, Florida, a city undergoing both reinvention and rediscovery, I’ve seen firsthand what happens when space becomes not just occupied, but activated. Downtown Vision, Inc. (business improvement distract) is leading the people-planning.

As the Vice President of Placemaking, I watch strangers become collaborators at a vacant lot turned pop-up. I’ve seen an alley be transformed into a live music venue; from vacant to shared social space. I’ve witnessed an underutilized park come alive by Duval residents who had never spoken before. This work is being funded by The Jessie Ball duPont Fund, The Community Foundation of Northeast Florida, VyStar Credit Union and The Players. Our parks are magnets, where strangers connect and go onto be business partners. These moments may seem small, but each adds voltage to the city’s civic grid. You can feel the current shift when residents remember that downtown is theirs — not just a commercial zone, but a communal living room.

The Main Room. A hyper local activation of Main Street Park led by Chef Onyx. Three "living rooms" each with a screen aired local music videos, films, and famous films shot in Jax.

The Downtown Living Room Downtowns are often framed as engines of commerce, sites of high-brow cultural activity, or centers of governance. But what if we saw them instead as neighborhoods — with their own unique feel?

This idea echoes the theory of third places, introduced by sociologist Ray Oldenburg in the 1980s. Third places — cafes, parks, libraries, bars — are neither home nor work, but essential to public life. They foster interaction, build trust, and serve as the “anchors” of community. Without them, Oldenburg argued, democracy and civic life begin to erode.

Today, as remote work transforms the traditional commute, vacated whole office towers, and online platforms replace in-person interaction, the role of third places has become even more critical. A 2022 Pew Research Center study found that only 35% of Americans felt a strong connection to their local community. Yet research from the Knight Foundation has shown that cities with strong public spaces report higher levels of civic engagement and resident satisfaction — regardless of economic or demographic variables.

The Pop Out, produced by Larry Love, celebrated Black Music Month at Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing Park in partnership with The Community Foundation of Northeast Florida.

Placemaking as Pulsekeeping

The work of placemaking, then, is not just about installing public art, hosting events, or creating attarctive aesthetics. It’s about designing for dwell time, for comfort, for the spontaneous magic of people feeling at home in public. It’s about creating the conditions for conversations that don’t have a script. For debates that spill over onto sidewalks. For a child’s chalk drawing to become part of the city’s story. Tactical. Urban. Living.

Project for Public Spaces says, “If you plan cities for cars and traffic, you get cars and traffic. If you plan for people and places, you get people and places.” In Jacksonville and cities like it, the opportunity lies not in building more, but in building belonging. The same way we build up with bricks and mortar, we have to build up our people. Social capital, civic infrastructure. Our public spaces act like a financial institution where we "re-up" and fill our social banks.

Mayor Donna Deegan cuts the ribbon after ten years of work. The skate community, led by The Block Skate Supply, celebrated their new park build under the overpass.

The Charge Ahead

Civic energy doesn’t appear on a municipal budget line. It can’t be legislated into existence. But it is real — and renewable — if we pay attention to the spaces that spark it.

That’s the challenge and the promise: to nurture not just the infrastructure of a city, but its pulse. To keep the current flowing, even — and especially — in places that were once overlooked or underutilized.

Because when people feel at home downtown, downtown comes alive.

41 East Duval Street--vacant & overgrown (before).

Hush Hush Jax opens The Secret Space at 41 East Duval (after).