Battle grounds

The city's most active citizens group, the Coalition for Green Hill Park, is again fighting to save parkland from being developed. This time, though, the group's position isn't gaining much support. A look at the latest plans to build a voke school and the mounting opposition to citizen activism.

by Kristen Lombardi

The city's penchant for repeated neglect and misuse of local parks was exactly what inspired advocates to form the grassroots organization, Coalition for Green Hill Park. Their resolve: stop the abuse of Worcester's largest, most diverse open space and, as important, make city officials accept that they have a nasty habit of treating the park as if it were their own back yard. Today, these very activists find they're caught in their own little habit -- taking on City Hall.

Flash back to just over a year ago, when the coalition came into the spotlight with an aggressive campaign to prevent a controversial city plan to dump street waste at the infamous park landfill. Coalition members forced public debate, challenged officials, and, ultimately, thwarted the whole dumping deal.

Now flash forward to a recent Thursday evening. Twenty of the coalition's most active, effective members are gathering at a Burncoat Street church. And, frankly, the conversation smacks of a scene from 1997. One man with furrowed brow mentions that he's weary of the clichés when it comes to Green Hill, then says, "The city's always blowing smoke." A woman, speaking with increasing agitation, points out that advocates have watched officials whisk park projects through the public process far too often.

"This is distressingly like every other situation," she says, then adds, "Face it. We're gonna have to sue."

What coalition members are discussing is a city proposal for the long-awaited construction of a new vocational high school -- or "voke," as it's known. Worcester leaders intend to build the school on 35 acres of municipal land at Belmont Street and Skyline Drive, abutting the park. The entire plan, however, hinges on whether the city can swap six aces of parkland for six acres of its property, which officials hope to incorporate into Green Hill, even though it doesn't touch parkland. As part of the project, officials are offering an especially enticing incentive: to cap the 26-year-old landfill for good.

Until now, the coalition's been willing to support the voke proposal -- provided that the city modify its design to address activists' concerns. On this evening, though, members reassess perceived problems: too many parking spaces, too many felled trees. In short, one member says, "You can't fit something this big on such an environmentally sensitive site." After a few failed attempts at negotiations, the city's plan has barely changed; so members make a bold move -- they vote to oppose the school location.

It is a politically tough position, for sure. Not only have high-profile, former coalition supporters been wooed by the city's promise to rehabilitate the dumpsite, but the T&G's editorial board has practically condemned the group for little more than giving citizen input.

Public momentum has helped to drive the voke proposal through Worcester's system at rapid speed. In two weeks, the plan sailed through three separate committees, with city councilors giving the administration the go-ahead to seek state approval in October. (Transfer of parkland requires two-thirds override from the Massachusetts State Legislature.)

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"It's a war and like every war you have defectors,"

-- Gary Dusoe, a coalition cochair

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But the process isn't over yet, and no matter how daunting the situation may look, coalition members are hopeful enough to sound the trumpets. The next battleground will be the city's Conservation Commission, which is expected to hold a public hearing early next year before voting, as required by law, on whether the parkland that officials hope to swap is "surplus" open space. The final frontier will be at the state level, and members have already begun appealing to those state officials who'll be part of the project's anticipated environmental review.

Now that the coalition's committed itself to another political campaign, it's certain to put up a good fight.

IT'S NOT STARTLING that the Coalition for Green Hill Park, with a sole mission to assure the park "remain forever open space," objects to the taking of parkland. If anything, city officials should expect coalition resistance, considering the voke proposal comes just months after the contentious landfill battle. As coalition member Walter Carrington puts it, "The city picked a site guaranteed effective opposition."

But unlike the landfill debate, the coalition's latest fight isn't politically popular. This is partly because the city's plan offers an attractive, quick solution to what's long been the park's biggest problem -- namely, capping the dumpsite -- and partly because there's little doubt the city needs a new vocational school.

For decades, in fact, officials have known of problems at voke's Wheaton Square facility. Its four structures are so antiquated, they fail to meet building codes. Concord Street divides the campus, forcing students to cross traffic to get to classes. "This raises security and safety concerns," says Anne Quinn, a vocational-school manager. And, perhaps most important, the facility virtually precludes administrators from enhancing the school's 16 programs, such as cosmetology and car repair.

"We are locked into programs we have now because there is no room to expand here," Quinn explains.

Such shortcomings prompted officials to comb the city for a place to build a new school years ago. They first focused on Beacon-Brightly, which later sparked fierce neighborhood opposition. A host of other sites was then considered and, eventually, the city-owned Belmont Home parcel was recommended -- largely because leaders weren't prepared to buy land.

The real push for the project came last year, when New England Association of Schools and Colleges (NEASC), the region's accreditation bureau, announced that the voke had to address problems or risk having its accreditation rescinded in 2001. Things looked somewhat grim for the trade school, until it merged with the city's public-school system, thereby making available to Worcester a massive cash influx in state aid to cover most of the new school's construction costs.

With the voke under the aegis of the public schools, the state's ready to pay out 90 percent of the project's price -- but not forever. This has left local school and city administrators scrambling to file the necessary paperwork with the state by June so Worcester can secure that reimbursement rate. More significant, though, officials are trying to prove to NEASC that the city's dealing with the long-neglected school; administrators met with NEASC representatives in October, Quinn says, adding, "We assured them the project is on the fast-track and they agreed not to revoke accreditation."

The city's current plan, in essence, would demolish the dilapidated Belmont Home, an old, elder-care facility, then construct a new 370,000 square-foot, five-story, $70 million school there. Meanwhile, the now-defunct Worcester Technical Institute (WTI), which sits in front of Belmont Home, would be leveled and the area used for landscaping and two athletic fields. The fields would be publicly accessible, yet the school would basically control when the community can use them.

Since the Belmont Home site contains wetlands, ledge, and severe topography, the city's architects, Lamoureux Pagano & Associates, have suggested a land transfer, whereby 5.8 acres of park woodlands opposite the school building would be cleared for a 600-space car lot. In exchange, the city would hand over the 6.6-acre WTI plot to the Parks Department for Green Hill Park -- for city supporters, this is an appealing one-acre net gain.

Probably the plan's most captivating feature is that it calls for properly sealing the park's 16-acre dumpsite located off Skyline Drive, which means that the state pays for most of the cap and gets it done sooner than even coalition members had hoped for. The area would then be replaced with five, long-sought-out athletic fields.

Coalition members who oppose the voke proposal concede that officials deserve credit for finding a cost-effective way to seal the dump. And they recognize apparent demand for a new school. But for them, true objections to the city's plan can be found in its particulars. "The devil is all in the details," says Gary Dusoe, a coalition cochair. The more data opponents study, he explains, the more convinced they become of the project's harmful effects. "We cannot turn our eyes away from serious environmental problems."

The coalition, overwhelmingly, protests four of the plan's basic components, all of which exist due to the school building's design. Members, for one, object to the proposal's encroachment onto parkland, not simply because mature trees would be cleared, but because they'd be cleared unnecessarily, they maintain. In their estimation, limiting construction to the Belmont Home/WTI sites would practically eliminate the need to substitute pristine woodlands with asphalt and, at once, replace asphalt with grass -- a concept, they note, that makes "no sense" from a conservation standpoint. Secondly, members say, the city's proposal calls for a "massive, out-of-place" facility that will bring tons of impervious materials, such as concrete and shingles, within park boundaries, resulting in pollution and run-off. They criticize the car lot's considerable size, especially when, at present, only 350 voke students and faculty drive to school. Finally, they question the anticipated school traffic through Green Hill.

But rather than outright oppose the city's plan, the coalition, along with the local Regional Environmental Council (REC), initially set out to modify it to minimize its negative effects. Last month, members presented officials with a "community alternative proposal," as it's called, in which part of the school building would be moved toward Belmont Street to keep construction "within limits of now disturbed areas." They asked officials to reduce the car lot by instead offering options like satellite parking, and to direct school traffic through Mary Scano not Skyline drives.

Despite what coalition members describe as an "affable" exchange, they walked out of these meetings discouraged, claiming that the city's bent on ignoring their concerns. REC director Peggy Middaugh, who attended the sessions, says that leaders may have been ready to "pass along information" but not to compromise. Thus, she concludes, "The city isn't interested in real public process."

The main point of contention, it seems, is the building's footprint. Architects have already attempted to do exactly what the coalition wants, but it is nearly impossible given the site's topography and the school's requirements, architect Richard Lamoureux says. The coalition proposal extends part of the building onto WTI as if the terrain were flat; in actuality, there's a 40-foot hill between Belmont Home and WTI parcels. This isn't problematic if portions of the building could stand alone, he says, but officials have asked for a "contiguous facility." To connect structures separated by a sharp slope complicates drainage, he says, adding, "As long as the project calls for a continuous building, this is the best we can do."

Architects acknowledge that a "campus-style" design similar to the existing school would alleviate environmental concerns -- and opponents have seized that idea. But administrators appear intractable; School Superintendent James Garvey's reportedly stated the city won't consider moving the footprint "one inch" to accommodate opponents.

"Preference is the only reason the city won't build on previously developed land. To us, that's just arrogance," Dusoe says.

But if officials favor an adjoining facility, it may be justified. Quinn, who admits that administrators are "absolutely opposed" to a campus-style setting, points to supervision as the reason. The new school will be organized around four "career clusters" that function as schools-within-a-school, she says. Because students need access to the library and cafeteria, for example, linked structures are the best way to oversee the kids. "Student mobility is almost too difficult for us to monitor now," Quinn adds.

This isn't to say that city officials haven't made legitimate concessions. For one, they've agreed to place conservation restrictions on 15 acres of the Belmont Home site that'll remain undeveloped because of wetlands. Architects, in addition, are redrawing what's known as the East Side Trail through the WTI parcel so it won't be disrupted by the taking of parkland. Lastly, officials say, the city's expected to reforest sections of the WTI property once it's converted to green space.

Besides, they add, the voke proposal advances the very agenda that coalition members fought hard to achieve: the 1997 Green Hill Park master plan, a $12 million revitalization effort. The plan's top priorities specify the landfill's rehabilitation to recreational space, which, officials estimate, would cost $3 million. Another goal asks for an "embellished park entrance" at Belmont Street, says Parks Department commissioner Michael O'Brien, and this can be accomplished with the land transfer.

"The voke proposal achieves these priorities," O'Brien says, adding that even master-plan objectives regarding park preservation aren't being jeopardized by the city's design because, "We end up with a net gain of one acre of parkland."

In light of all this, officials appear genuinely baffled by the coalition's position. As Quinn views it, "There's been tremendous compromise by the city. I don't understand how the coalition can complain."

If any group appears most baffled it would have to be the local press, which hasn't been exactly kind to the coalition. Press coverage has tended to gloss over the coalition's environmental arguments, simplifying them by focusing on the tree issue, rather than considering the consequences to the park of a school filled with some 4000 students, who commute to morning and evening sessions five days a week. T&G editorial writers have gone so far as to paint the coalition as a bunch of irrational obstructionists with hidden "political and ideological axes to grind," not as a valid citizens group.

Maybe more damaging to the coalition's cause are the former, high-profile allies who, simply put, see the voke proposal as the fastest, cheapest way to resolve the landfill matter. Some have publicly lambasted the coalition as "selfish" and "fringe." Others like state representative William McManus (D-14th District), an influential backer last year, take issue with members who oppose the voke proposal yet champion the master plan, since the proposal would end the dumpsite controversy. There are obvious park improvements attached to the city's plan, McManus says, so advocates need to become "realistic."

"No other city's getting this type of money to improve a park," he says, adding, "I won't allow the project to be held hostage."

Even a few outspoken coalition members, such as veteran activist Edith Morgan, defend the city's proposal due, in part, to the landfill cap. Morgan concurs that she differs from most coalition members when siding with the city but, she says, "I'm a realist. I know our choices in public life are often between the bad, worse, and worst."

IF COALITION MEMBERS come across as inflexible, the attitude stems from larger circumstances. Take the park's history of neglect and misuse, beginning in the '50s with the Air National Guard takeover of 10 acres for military storage and continuing with a recent city attempt to drain pond water to sprinkle the golf course. Add the notorious landfill, which the city's failed to cap despite a 25-year-old court order mandating it do so. Then, there's what advocates see as a shortsighted trend among planners to regard parkland as "free space for schools" -- citing how construction at Bell Hill Elementary and Doherty Memorial High schools intruded on parkland.

Ultimately, this greater context irritates coalition members enough to fuel another fight regardless of the odds against them. Several members have suggested the coalition abandon its effort and push instead for faster implementation of the 1997 master plan, but most say they haven't gained anything to warrant capitulation. If they did, they say, they would lose the "sliver" of parkland, as it's been called, as well as the 22 or so acres of athletic fields, since the public can only use the fields when the school isn't. And they would sacrifice forest, with its trees, vegetation, and wildlife, for grass, which, one advocate says, "gives us nothing but grubs and spiders."

As for the 15 acres of conservation restrictions, members aren't too impressed -- primarily because the city's been known to lift its conditions when in need of space. "Nothing in this city is sacred," says coalition advocate Michael Troiano. As soon as officials want to expand the school, he adds, "The restrictions will be removed."

And so, coalition members are stepping up efforts, appearing on media programs, lobbying state legislators. If they're bothered that public momentum has yet to get behind them, they keep it to themselves. "It's a war and like every war you have defectors," Dusoe says, when asked whether former allies taking the city's side have hurt the coalition. "They won't have any real impact on our future effectiveness," he adds.

He may be correct. Coalition members, after all, are closely aligned with REC, as well as environmentalists at Preservation Worcester, Worcester Horticultural Society, and Greater Worcester Land Trust. And they're quick to point out that the coalition's landfill agenda started in the minority.

Besides, they say, they're confident that their arguments will "trigger flags" along the way. First they'll storm the city's Conservation Commission (last Monday the commission said that design changes could be in store for the voke because of potential effects construction would have on a nearby pond -- a move that might bode well for the coalition's cause). But if that fails, then the coaltion will plead before the state's environmental officials to prompt a more rigorous review.

If that's the case, the coalition may find its little habit to be worth it after all.

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com