We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Elizabeth O’Connor a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Elizabeth, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?
For almost twenty years, I had walked past this garbage-strewn eyesore in my neighborhood: an abandoned lot in Woodside, Queens. It was an overgrown jungle of 7-foot tall invasive weeds covering much of the property, but I saw so much potential. As a new mother with a one-year-old and a full-time design job in EdTech, I thought, ‘Why not add another project to my roster?’
After contacting the landowner, I partnered with another grassroots organizer, Samantha, who envisioned a community garden. Having a black thumb myself and little interest in gardening, I shared my dream of it doubling as a neighborhood hub where people of all ages and backgrounds could gather, celebrate, share stories, and create/see art.
We had our work cut out for us: no money, no tools, no people (yet), and a half acre to clear. It brought to mind that famous line from Field of Dreams: “If you build it, they will come.” But in our case, we hadn’t built anything yet. We needed people to come now! We created a social media presence, designed flyers, called electeds, wrote grant proposals, and rallied a whole lot of neighbors and friends to roll up their sleeves and get dirty with us.
The result was phenomenal. People came with machetes, their extended families, and donated garbage bags so we could discard all the trash that had accumulated over many decades. This collective show of passion to create something from nothing, together as a community, was exhilarating. After quite a few months of back-breaking labor, we had a (somewhat) clean slate to start our garden and the rest of our ideas would grow organically year after year.
Having worked for years as a social worker with court-involved and at-risk youth, it was important to me that we give the neighborhood kids a safe space to explore, learn, experiment, and share their talents with others. I had seen firsthand that keeping youth engaged in something they liked to do was a huge factor in keeping them out of trouble.
One of my favorite moments was when a local high school student approached me about having a teen open mic in the garden. He said he would plan, promote, and host it; all he needed was the space. Seeing his level of commitment, confidence, and motivation, as well as these brave young people sharing their poetry and music with friends and strangers, confirmed that my dream had already come true.
I also had the pleasure of working with a group of youth from Green Guerillas, an organization as old as I am, who has always been at the forefront of community gardening as a radical act in the fight for food and environmental justice. For their summer-long culminating project, we decided to build a sandbox with fold-in bench seating (plans we found on YouTube). None of us had ever used a power tool before, so you can imagine our excitement when we completed it and it actually worked properly and looked fabulous. Our smaller visitors and volunteers absolutely love it. The young builders who constructed it, including myself, not only learned new skills but experienced a great sense of accomplishment having worked as a team to see it appreciated by so many.
Growing up just outside of New York City, I was fortunate to be able to go see Broadway plays and musicals, the ballet, opera, art museums, and buskers along the sidewalks sharing their art. So when The Motor Company, a theater group who performs in communal spaces, approached me about creating free and open to the public plays for our garden, I was ecstatic. This would allow countless neighbors who may not be able to make the trip to Manhattan, or might not have the funds for such outings, the unique experience of accessible, community-oriented theater close to home.
Our (now) annual play festival has been a huge success, and last year the company sweetened the deal by offering summer playwriting classes to young people ages 9–12 right inside the garden. During the inaugural sharing of these young playwrights’ works, performed by professional actors, one story stood out for me. It was about a young girl who was mute and overcame her absence of speech with the support of friends. I was a weeping mess. This 10-year-old truly spoke to me through her words on paper. It was so incredibly symbolic because it was precisely what I wanted this space to be for young people; a place where their voices are heard.
Over the years, we’ve offered field trips to local schools around topics like food justice, civic engagement, composting, the importance of bees to our food supply, mutual aid, and more. We are also listed on Queens Council for the Arts’ venue list so artists can have a free space to perform a concert, launch their book of poetry, or have an art show. Not only have we beautified the neighborhood but we’ve created a space for people to be creative and experience the creativity of others right in their backyard. As more and more volunteers join our group of engaged citizens, I look forward to seeing what the next generation will do with this beloved half acre.
I’ve been privileged to forge partnerships with local organizations like GrowNYC who brought corporate volunteer groups to build us garden beds, furniture, and assemble a proper shed. When COVID hit and the city stopped collecting food scraps, Queens Botanical Garden was instrumental in getting our community composting operation up and running. When our Little Free Library became a Little Free Pantry to help our neighbors with food insecurity, The Rolling Library stepped in, donated and installed a brand new one. We continue to collaborate with like minded mutual aid groups and organizations who believe that building community uplifts us all and connects us in a deeper way.
The pandemic spotlighted what a lack of communal green space we previously had in our neighborhood. Our district in Queens was at the epicenter of the COVID outbreak. This space became a lifesaver for many. Individuals who had been sheltered inside, alone for months, wanted to interact safely, socially-distanced, and outdoors. Friendships were formed and volunteers had something new to look forward to. Families with young children who craved nature but could no longer safely travel to find it elsewhere, came to the garden for puppet shows and musical performances. Such a tragic period of our lives further highlighted why community gardens are so essential to our mental and physical health, especially in these concrete jungles we call home.
Elizabeth, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
I’m the daughter of two Bronx natives whose parents came over from Ireland and settled in the South Bronx and Kingsbridge. My father was an NYPD homicide detective in the Bronx throughout my childhood and my mother was a career volunteer at the schools my sisters and I attended for 20+ years. Her contribution to our school district was so heartfelt that they gave her an honorary diploma and a standing ovation at my younger sister’s high school graduation.
I’ve always volunteered in some way or another since childhood, and I attribute that fully to the amazing role model I had in my mother. She was always doing for others while still managing to drive us to all our afterschool activities and games, usually with batches of brownies for everyone to enjoy. My mother is a very creative, crafty person, evidenced by our basement looking like an arts supply store. She always had projects laid out for us that exposed me to so many artistic mediums. So it’s not surprising that this garden project was second nature to me: craft projects, bake sales, and coordinating community events.
In undergrad, I double-majored in Psychology and English Writing Arts (with a focus on journalism). As a teen, I was always a little rabble rouser, writing OpEd pieces for our local newspaper about my thoughts on Dan Quayle’s close minded comments about TV’s Murphy Brown or how fellow classmates had horrific opinions about people living with AIDS. So when I had the opportunity in college to write for the school newspaper, I jumped at the chance. I didn’t realize then that it would launch me into a career in graphic design.
I became more interested in how they were laying out the newspaper than what I was writing for it. I took on Computer Graphic Design as an unofficial third major and learned the entire Adobe suite of tools, as well as traditional platemaking for printing and darkroom photography. I was hooked. All the creativity I grew up with had finally merged with a medium that I clicked with (pun intended). During my senior year, I designed an interactive resume on a floppy disk and sent it to Newsweek magazine. This was 1995, before many companies even had internet sites, and the editor in charge of the magazine’s Prodigy presence was so impressed with this unique portfolio delivery method that I was called in for an interview and got the job!
I started my career in publishing as a graphic designer/HTML coder, and went on to become an art director and content creator at places like Scholastic, IBM, Amplify, and 2U. I enjoyed focusing on the user’s experience when I was creating. I always wanted things to be simple and make sense, but also evoke joy. I’ll never forget a project I was working on for Motorola. They needed a campaign for their TALKABOUT walkie-talkies. Being the old soul that I am, I instantly had this vision of a comparison spread with present-day children using their devices to chat over the airways versus two neighbor kids from the ‘50s hanging out their opposing Bronx apartment building windows with two cans and a string, sharing the day’s gossip while mothers behind them were drawing in their laundry from the clotheslines. The marketing exec loved it and I realized quickly that being a designer wasn’t just about creating pleasing graphics. It also meant using all of my other skill sets and interests to connect with people’s nostalgia, empathy, and personal needs, to name a few.
The problem solving techniques I learned throughout my professional endeavors in the past 25+ years equipped me with the project management and creative troubleshooting skills I needed to create this space for neighbors to enjoy and grow together, both literally (food) and figuratively (building bonds). I use my writing skills to win grants to fund our operations, as well as copywriting and branding to engage visitors and volunteers. I use my graphics design skills to promote our garden’s offerings on social media and in print, as well as beautifying our chain link fence with eye-catching banners that invite the community in. And lastly, my social work skills are always in play. There are a lot of personalities to contend with when you have a space like this. I pride myself on being a good listener and taking others’ perspectives into account when trying to arrive at a consensus decision cooperatively.
I feel that this community garden embodies the concept of Each One, Teach One: spread knowledge for the betterment of your community. Whether it’s someone showing another how to sow a seed, or people building a puppet theatre so kids can learn how to put on their own show, we all learn from one another and that’s something I’m proud to be a part of.
Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?
I’ve always hoped for the garden to be a place where young people find mentorship in all its forms. Whether it be harvesting collard greens or understanding how pollination works, education is always my focus. It’s a place of learning and sharing. The beauty of our garden is that young volunteers may be weeding in our raised beds and discover through conversation that the grownup beside them is a casting director for Broadway shows or choreographs sword fight scenes for films (it is New York after all). And as luck would have it, they have always wanted to be an actor or didn’t realize until now that they’d like to star in the next big samurai movie! We all have something to contribute or share with young people that could ignite a spark that changes their life’s trajectory. My goal is to create more of those connections and sparks so people see our space as a place to interact and explore the possibilities.
So many NYC neighborhoods still lack hyper-local spaces for kids to gather after school and on weekends to avoid negative influences. And city kids don’t often know where their food comes from. This garden has the potential to give them a unique opportunity to grow their own produce and take pride in what they’ve started from nothing.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
When I first moved to this neighborhood in 1998, I loved that nearby Long Island City (LIC) had a significant population of working visual artists, dancers, and musicians. They were able to find reasonable rents for studios or rehearsal space, and the manufacturing zoning allowed for performance and exhibition venues. But when zoning changed for the benefit of developers (thanks to our electeds at the time), rents skyrocketed and it pushed out so many creative people, resulting in a huge loss for the area.
Although there are amazing nonprofit organizations like the Western Queens Community Land Trust (WQCLT) who are working so hard to secure shared public space in this neighborhood for creatives, there is so much that others can do to contribute to a thriving creative ecosystem throughout the city.
After the work day has ended, corporations that have large conference spaces with the added benefit of catering services (often employing creatives!) should be donating their underutilized location to artists for exhibitions and performances. After all, they often pride themselves on curating art for their fancy lobbies, while other artists who haven’t yet made a name for themselves need a venue to feature their work. This strikes me as such a simple solution that would have a huge impact on so many local artists.
On a smaller scale, companies should find those creatives who already work for them and offer a stipend and an art supplies budget to create monthly Crafternoons for employees, a casual and fun event during work hours, coined by crafting superstar Maura Madden. When I worked at Amplify, I was part of the Committee of Fun and we would host events like valentine-making sessions and it brought so much joy to fellow colleagues, reminding them that they did have time to get those creative juices flowing again.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.moorejacksonnyc.org/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/moorejacksonnyc/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MooreJacksonNYC
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/eoconn
- Youtube: https://youtu.be/Lqlpj13FpK8?si=32qh8CFWbBS2taJ6&t=152
- Other: https://youtu.be/9tmAJW-Sajc?si=brP4suEq4PaQBXGz&t=105
Image Credits
Natasha Fernandez-Silber, Mike Rezny