River Roots Redevelopment: Seeing What’s There

Selina Pedi-Smith,

Founder, Pellere Foundation

I’ve been sitting with Rachel’s travel reflections for these last couple weeks. If you haven’t read them yet, go back when you have a minute; they’re beautiful, heartfelt, and thought-provoking. There’s just something about stories of somewhere new, somewhere unexpected, that makes your own world feel a little wider too.

What stuck with me most, though, wasn’t just the places she visited, but the way she paid attention while she was there. The way she listened - really listened - to the women at the leadership intensive, and later to the taxi drivers, the tour guides, the strangers in Serbia and Hungary who shared bits of their stories with her. She didn’t rush past any of it. She noticed the weight people carried. She noticed the beauty tucked inside the weight.

That’s easier to do when you’re in unfamiliar surroundings, I think.

Not because we don’t care, but because… familiarity is a kind of fog. We simply overlook things: the crumbling porch we walk past every morning; the cute house that would look so good with a fresh coat of paint and a few flowers; the hillside that catches the late-afternoon sun just so. The good, the rough, the hopeful, the tired… it all blends together.

Until something from outside interrupts the autopilot.

Travel - even stories of someone else’s travel - gives us that interruption. Those experiences remind us that noticing is possible. And a skill. And honestly, a gift. Because once you let yourself see what’s right in front of you, everything surrounding it starts coming into focus too. Not in a heavy, “someone should really fix that” way. More like, huh… that building has good bones. That park still has the best shade tree in the county. That neighbor creates absolute botanical magic with their tiny front garden.

Once we notice, we tend to talk to other people about what we see, to share our thoughts and opinions. We see the gardening-guru neighbor outside and compliment them, maybe even ask for some tips. We reminisce with a friend about time spent under that shade tree. We mention the good bones on that building to a buddy. And sometimes, our spark… well, it sparks someone else’s. When something catches our attention in a way we can’t quite shake. When a place or a moment feels connected to our own story.

And once that spark jumps from one person to another, something subtle starts to happen. There’s a little shift in how we feel about where we are - and it grows stronger when we realize we’re not the only ones who feel it. And that’s when small, almost effortless acts of care start showing up. Picking up a piece of rubbish threatening to blow into the neighbor’s flower bed. Listening to a friend’s memory all the way through instead of just waiting for our turn. Or, who knows, starting a nonprofit to bring old buildings back to life and make them useful again. Totally hypothetical. Could happen to anyone.

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Rachel Brosnahan is the Community Engagement Coordinator for River Roots Redevelopment. Want to help us rethink what redevelopment can look like—together? Follow the conversation and share your thoughts with us on Facebook and LinkedIn, or reach out directly to rachel@riverrootsredevelopment.org. We’d love to hear from you!