If you work in architecture, engineering, or construction, your projects shape who gets to stay in a neighborhood, who gets pushed out, and who benefits from “improvements.” Across the U.S., cities like Asheville, North Carolina, and Evanston, Illinois, are asking a bold question: Could planning and design help repair the harm caused by redlining, urban renewal, and highway expansion?
That idea is often called “design for reparations” or restorative planning, and it’s gaining attention as federal infrastructure spending grows. But what does it look like in real life?
To get a clearer picture of what this looks like on the ground, we spoke with Chasity Leake, a CEO and transformational coach who served as lead researcher for Asheville’s reparations work. She interviewed Black residents about displacement, housing loss, and the ripple effects that can last for generations.
Reparations are not just about the past
Many people hear the word “reparations” and think about history. They picture moral wrongdoing and old injustice. Leake says Asheville’s process showed something different.
“The Black community voiced many times that reparations to them means interrupting the ongoing cycle of harm embedded in our current systems that are still actively producing harm,” she says.
Leake says the same three issues came up over and over: “Loss of housing, neighborhood continuity, and generational stability.” That’s what this work is trying to protect.
What does “design for reparations” actually mean?
A lot of what people call “city growth” came from decisions made in offices and council chambers. Where highways were routed. What neighborhoods got investment. Who could qualify for a mortgage. What areas were cleared out for new projects. Redlining hit Black communities hard, and later “renewal” projects and road building displaced even more families. Zoning rules often made it easier for redevelopment to move fast, even when residents were already struggling to stay.
Leake says for Asheville residents, this is a lived reality. “Historic planning decisions shaping inequity in Asheville today show up less as policy; they show up to residents as neighborhoods that were once predominantly Black, but are no longer recognizable as time goes on.”
That harm can be mapped. When Chasity’s team compared residents’ testimonials with spatial data, including “home ownership rates, median home value, and income,” they supported those personal accounts of displacement.
If harm was designed into the system, it stands to reason that repair can be designed in as well.
Repair has to happen at the system level
Small upgrades can help, but they don’t fix the bigger problem. Planning and design decisions shape what gets built, what gets funded, and what gets protected. If that process doesn’t change, displacement will keep happening.
Why community voices matter more than “growth metrics”
Asheville’s reparations process moved forward by collecting community voices and treating them as real data. The research included 243 interviews, and something surprised Chasity: how consistent people’s experiences were. “The data consistently show that the Black community’s perspective is primarily focused on permanence, whereas planning typically prioritizes growth metrics over lived experience,” says Leake.
Leake argues that these community stories should be treated like evidence. Community planning often focuses on growth, but residents prioritize permanence. “People talked about staying, aging in place, and having something to pass down. Those goals are not side issues. They are the core,” she says.
That also means real restorative design may feel uncomfortable to institutions, because feasibility goes beyond budget, and becomes a power conversation. In her research, Leake says tension often appeared around housing and affordability; cities and markets define “what’s realistic” differently than residents, whose priorities are shaped by lived necessity.
What this means for architects, planners, and engineers
If design affects who gets to stay, then AEC professionals can’t treat their work as a simple build. “The data paints a very clear picture about neutrality, and it is not neutral,” says Leake. “We make design choices that have significant and lasting effects on who benefits and who suffers; who remains, and who must leave.”
So what should professionals do differently? If a city wants this work to be real, it must treat community input as the first step. That means planning around what residents say they need, and treating stability, like affordability and the ability to stay put, as part of the design from day one.
What counts as a “reparative” investment?
Not all investment is repair. Some projects bring new sidewalks and new lighting, but also raise rents and taxes. Some projects improve transit, but also make neighborhoods more attractive to outsiders with more money.
So what counts as reparative? “Residents tended to define reparative investments by outcomes such as improved stability, access, or affordability,” says Leake. This is where specific models matter, like affordable housing, community land trusts (CLTs), and infrastructure updates that prioritize existing residents. Those investments help residents stay, which is the real difference between a symbolic “equity project” and true restorative design.
Case study: Housing, zoning, and repair in Evanston, Illinois
Evanston, Illinois, is another city putting “design for reparations” into action. In 2021, Evanston launched the Restorative Housing Program, one of the first city-led reparations programs in the U.S., designed to help Black residents build stability through housing.
Instead of focusing only on direct payments, Evanston’s program provides eligible residents with support for home repairs, mortgage assistance, or down payments and closing costs. Early program participants could receive up to $25,000 to use toward those housing benefits.
This matters for AEC because housing is a built environment issue. If a home is unsafe, unaffordable, or falling apart, families can be forced out. Repair funding is one way to help people stay.
Evanston also supports physical housing repairs through programs such as its Housing Rehabilitation Loans, which offer below-market-rate loans to help eligible homeowners and landlords make needed upgrades.
Evanston is also looking at the rules behind housing. Its draft comprehensive plan includes goals like prioritizing affordable housing, protecting against displacement, and encouraging mixed-use zoning in some areas.
Why funding is the make-or-break factor
Many cities have strong reports and recommendations, but without money, they remain stuck. “The primary barriers were not a lack of data or clarity, but rather a lack of alignment among funding mechanisms, political will, and community priorities,” Leake says. And without dedicated funding, “repair” becomes more like a wish.
That is the heart of the implementation problem. Reparative goals have to compete with existing priorities unless funding is specific and protected. That’s why Leake supports targeted infrastructure funding in neighborhoods where harm has been concentrated. If harm is patterned by geography, she argues, repair should be too.
Radical financing models for restorative planning
For restorative planning to work, cities need funding models built for repair, especially in neighborhoods that have historically carried the most harm. When repair doesn’t have real funding behind it, it can’t move forward. Leake suggests three radical financing models that could help design for reparations scale across more cities:
- Repair-focused tax credits: Encourage upgrades and affordable housing in neighborhoods that have been harmed, with anti-displacement protections.
- Repair grants: Set aside federal money for basics like sidewalks, transit access, flood protection, and housing preservation.
- Community-first partnerships: Require long-term affordability and local benefits through tools like land trusts or shared equity.
The federal infrastructure opportunity
A lot of big infrastructure work, such as road fixes, transit upgrades, and housing developments, only happens when federal dollars show up. Leake says if that money is meant to repair harm, it can’t be scored the same way it always has. “Evaluation criteria should account for historical harm and long-term displacement risk, not just projected economic growth,” she says.
That change could decide who gets help and who gets left out. It could also stop cities from using lip service without real change. Leake says people notice when nothing improves. Communities have seen broken promises before. They can tell the difference between talk and action.
A hopeful sign
A lot of people still showed up for the research, despite the mistrust. Leake says the fact that people participated at all is a sign they haven’t given up, but reparations will only happen if cities take what residents say seriously and act on it.
Design for reparations is an accountability exercise in which harm is named and spoken before it can be changed. As Leake reminds us, harm and repair live at the systems level. So if we want different outcomes, we need different systems.
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