Is leadership enough? Perhaps not.

Certainly, the best development teams are comprised of leaders who facilitate candid and constructive discussion, call the shots commensurate with their roles, and inspire themselves and others to risk failure and achieve excellence. We know leadership when we see it.

Is it leadership that creates inspirational real estate projects? Consider Joseph Campbell’s definition of heroism: “Someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself”. Those projects that most inspire me are the result of heroism. Without heroism, the journey would end before it begins.

For a number of Washington DC’s transformative projects, the hero’s journey spans decades. The Wharf and The Parks at Walter Reed are two current examples, as is Fort Lincoln New Town and Dakota Crossing. The Washington National Cathedral required more than 100 years.

The hero’s journey requires a challenge, and the most transformative projects present numerous challenges. A vision that appears to some as impossible, unmarketable, and/or unprofitable is transfigured one conversation at a time into a business plan that attracts confidence. By then, the market has changed. The developer’s pipeline of new opportunities has withered, and its bank accounts are drawn down. Like a marathoner approaching a hill well into the race and not yet near the finish line, the developer must now attract capital.

Why would a developer embark on such a trek, at great risk to her/himself and with uncertain outcome? In a discussion of Han Solo, the Star Wars “mercenary”, Campbell describes a real estate developer perfectly:

He thinks he’s an egoist, he really isn’t, and that’s a very lovable kind of human being, I think, and there are lots of them functioning beautifully in the world. They think they’re working for themselves, very practical and all, but no, there’s something else pushing them.

Campbell’s world is full of heroes. Take notice of the built environment, and you may agree.

Roadside’s City Ridge project inspired me to write this column, in part because much of its magic is likely to go unnoticed. Yes, there are impressive visual elements. Experience tells us that impressive visuals are not enough to draw us together, nor to give us a feeling of home.

At City Ridge, balconies are offset to create privacy and sight lines are mottled by foliage. Outdoor meeting spaces are designed to be visible beyond the foliage, present and also on the periphery. Below grade, systems support a greenscape that could not have grown there previously. A myriad of details within City Ridge work together to create private spaces that are connected to one another. This duality is what creates a sense of home, where we can be alone, vaguely comforted by the presence of community around us.

When we enter such a space, we absorb its welcome seamlessly so that we don’t bother to articulate it. We relax our shoulders when we walk, greet one another more warmly than we might otherwise.

Walk across the Cathedral grounds, and feel this same effect. Residents at Fort Lincoln have sometimes referred to their neighbors as “family”. In a pre-COVID conversation at The Wharf, two very different natives of Washington DC, unknown to one another, found themselves celebrating their shared space, shared experience, and shared feeling of belonging. The built environment transformed the experience for each, bridging decades of racial and economic division.

At The Parks at Walter Reed, the welcoming impact of privacy amid community is in plain view, as walkers greet one another in happenstance conversations. The private and communal spaces are each enhanced by the other. Duality is the essential achievement.

Transformational environments encourage us to inhabit our best selves. We may notice a vague sense of being seen, heard, and respected; of feeling safe; of being comfortable. Our outer shell becomes permeable, and we become available to connect to our surroundings and one another. Leadership built these transformational spaces, leadership and something else, something bigger than ourselves.

What we build has a profound impact on the people who inhabit the space, their interactions with one another, and perhaps their view of themselves. What, then, is our responsibility when we embark on a new project? Must we be leaders? Can we be heroes?

Alexandra Johns,
Vice President – Co-Investment, Grosvenor Americas
Full Member
Member, ULI Washington Full Member Engagement Committee
Volunteer, UrbanPlan

In ULI Washington’s new Leadership Insights column, ULI Washington will regularly feature member leader’s thoughts and insights as we adjust personally and professional to a “new normal.”