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Unless residents are meaningfully included from the start, we’ll continue to pay the price for decisions that will be made without us.
On some streets in Atlanta’s Westside neighborhoods, you can smell the flood before you see it. Gray wastewater rises into the roads, seeps into homes and cars, and lingers long after the storm has passed. Residents step onto their porches, hands over their faces, taking in the now-familiar scene. All it takes is a strong rainstorm to overwhelm a system that was never built to support the people who live here.
In one area, flooding became more severe after new construction added housing density without adequate upgrades to drainage infrastructure. A developer installed a retention pond across from a residential block as part of the deal, but it hasn’t been enough. This pattern is not unique to Atlanta. Many cities with legacies of redlining, highway expansion, and racially unequal investment are now experiencing the cumulative toll of decades of neglect and the rising cost of excluding communities from the decisions that shape their neighborhoods.
The flooding that plagues Atlanta’s Westside isn’t just a weather issue. It’s the result of decades of disinvestment, shortsighted planning, and infrastructure that was never designed to serve the communities that live here. And while other cities long ago updated their water systems to separate drinking water from wastewater, Atlanta still runs both through the same outdated pipes. When a heavy rain hits, the system overflows, and neighborhoods are submerged in sewage.
Many of Atlanta’s historic Black neighborhoods are situated at the base of hills, downhill from the wealthier, whiter parts of the city. That’s not a coincidence. It reflects a long history of redlining, highway construction through Black communities, and the repeated exclusion of Westside residents from decisions that shape our lives. We live in the lowlands, and we’ve been treated like an afterthought for generations.
Atlanta often celebrates its civil rights legacy, and as someone who calls the Westside home and works to support communities across the region, I understand the weight of that history. But legacy alone won’t stop the floods.
Now, as the city rushes to accommodate new developments, from Mercedes-Benz Stadium to the Gulch, we are told that flooding will finally be addressed, but only because it now threatens new investment. Downtown Atlanta sits atop massive concrete structures built 50 feet above what was once an industrial rail hub. These platforms were funded with public money, including half a billion dollars to support a luxury development in The Gulch.
Developers were handed city resources and made a promise to include affordable housing and community benefits. As part of a nearly $1.9 billion incentive package, developers agreed to make 20% of the new housing in Centennial Yards affordable. Instead, builders opted to pay an $8 million in-lieu fee, thereby avoiding any affordable housing options altogether. It’s a legal way to sidestep the promises used to gain public support in the first place. And without strong accountability, that money rarely flows back into the communities that were supposed to benefit.
Existing Westside neighborhoods are absorbing the infrastructure demands created by new development. One of many examples is Georgia Power's proposal to build a new electrical substation just two blocks from an elementary school to power nearby luxury developments. These decisions are made without our input, yet our neighborhoods are left to manage the fallout at once: an overwhelmed watershed system, expanding energy needs, and the strain on roads and public services that were never built to support this kind of growth.
This kind of development process is reactive and extractive. It’s a pattern I have seen over and over again. A developer shows up. A problem is discovered, and the community raises concerns. At that point, the city scrambles to hold a few meetings or patch together a short-term fix. But the damage has already been done.
This isn’t just inconvenient. It’s disruptive to our lives and our stability. It undermines property values, displaces long-time residents, and increases the financial burden on families already stretched thin. I have seen neighbors leave not because they wanted to, but because living here became unsustainable.
Living through the consequences and working inside the systems that produced them, I know change is possible, but only if we change how decisions are made. My journey, shaped by life in Atlanta’s Westside neighborhoods and a career focused on building community power, brought me to lead the national Just Communities initiative. The Westside is where so much of Atlanta’s civil rights legacy was born. That history of resistance and resilience is not just part of the past. It’s what drives me, and many others, to continue fighting for justice.
Just Communities is grounded in the belief that equity is a forethought. It shapes the process, not just the outcomes. The Just Communities Protocol offers a practical road map for doing exactly that. At its heart is the Declaration of Collaboration, a tool designed to formalize shared governance among community members, city officials, and developers. It’s not about public input after the fact. It’s about building structures where residents shape decisions from the beginning: what gets built, where, and how.
Right now, the City of Atlanta is updating its comprehensive plan, zoning ordinances, and watershed infrastructure. These are opportunities to finally do things differently. However, unless residents are meaningfully included from the start, we’ll continue to pay the price for decisions that will be made without us.
Atlanta often celebrates its civil rights legacy, and as someone who calls the Westside home and works to support communities across the region, I understand the weight of that history. But legacy alone won’t stop the floods. Honoring it requires more than symbolism; we need a new process, one rooted in justice and shared power. If we want different outcomes, we must change how decisions are made. Until that happens, communities like mine will continue to pay the price.
José Zamora of the Committee to Protect Journalists called Mario Guevara's arrest "a blatant attack on press freedom."
Press freedom and immigrants' rights advocates are calling for the release of an Atlanta journalist from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention after he was arrested last month while filming an anti-Trump protest.
Mario Guevara, a native of El Salvador, has lived in the United States legally for more than two decades, where he became renowned as one of the Atlanta area's most trusted immigration reporters.
The Guardian described Guevara, an Emmy-winning reporter, as "the person that immigrants call when they see an [ICE] raid going down in their neighborhood."
That was until June 14, when the 47-year-old was snatched up by police while filming an Atlanta area "No Kings" protest and handed over to ICE.
(Video: CNN)
Guevara was charged with traffic offenses related to his coverage of law enforcement activities earlier in the month, but those charges were later dropped. However, Guevara has remained in ICE custody for more than five weeks under a detainer from the immigration agency, which is now attempting to deport him.
On June 24, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security claimed that Guevara "is in our country ILLEGALLY." However, he has been granted authorization to work legally in the U.S. while he awaits his green card. He also entered the country through legal processes.
"I'm plainly convinced that my situation in this ICE jail is direct retaliation for my coverage," Guevara told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. "I haven't committed any crimes."
On July 1, an immigration judge granted Guevara a $7,500 bond for his release. But when his family tried to pay it, ICE refused to accept it and instead placed a stay on his bond, which will keep him in detention until a judge rules on his appeal.
Guevara has since been shuffled between several different ICE facilities, an experience he told the ACJ has left him "emotionally destroyed."
At a press conference held Tuesday by the Committee to Protect Journalists—which has headed the legal effort to free Guevara—José Zamora, the group's director for the Americas, said that Guevara is "the only journalist in prison in the U.S. in direct retaliation for his reporting."
— (Video: Atlanta News First)
"This is a blatant attack on press freedom, on the First Amendment, and on the right of communities, especially immigrant communities, to be informed," Zamora continued. "These communities rely on voices like Mario's to help make sense of the world around them."
Guevara's lawyer, Giovanni Diaz, described the stay placed on Guevara's bond by ICE as a "surprise" to him and the legal team. Though Zamora said he expected that his legal team will ultimately win the appeal, he said it was "a confirmation to us that they wanted to treat Mario very differently than other detained individuals."
But, he said, this is of a piece with how ICE has conducted itself during President Donald Trump's second term.
"The administration has made it perfectly clear that anybody who's not a legal permanent resident at least, or a citizen, even if they've been given certain protections and they've been allowed to remain in the United States legally—ICE has decided that these people are targets as well." Diaz said.
Two of Guevara's children also pleaded for his release.
"My father is a reporter," said Guevara's daughter Katherine. "He chased stories that mattered, stories that told the truth about immigration, about injustice, about people who usually go ignored."
"My dad did nothing wrong. He was arrested while wearing a press badge. He was live streaming. He wasn't in the way. He wasn't breaking any law. He was doing his job," she continued.
"His work wasn't just a job," said Guevara's son, Oscar. "It was a calling. And now he's being punished for answering that call."
Oscar said that his dad's dedication to his work inspired him to become a photojournalist himself.
"We were raised to believe that in this country, freedom of speech mattered, that journalism mattered, that hard work and honesty meant something," he said. "But none of that seems to matter right now."
"He is proud? Proud that women are dying?" said the vice president. "Proud that doctors and nurses could be thrown in prison for administering care?"
Speaking at a campaign event in Atlanta, Georgia on Friday, U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris paid tribute to two women from the state whose deaths have been deemed by health experts as "preventable" and the result of the state's six-week abortion ban.
Amber Nicole Thurman and Candi Miller, said the Democratic presidential candidate, are doubtlessly just two of many people who have died because they couldn't access abortion care since the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade—and she blamed former Republican President Donald Trump for their deaths.
"This is a healthcare crisis and Donald Trump is the architect of this crisis," said Harris. "He brags about overturning Roe v. Wade. In his own words, quote, 'I did it and I'm proud to have done it.'"
"He is proud? Proud that women are dying?" she said. "Proud that doctors and nurses could be thrown in prison for administering care? Proud that today, young women have fewer rights than their mothers and grandmothers? How dare he."
Harris shared the stories, reported on this week by ProPublica, of Thurman and Miller, who both died in 2022 after medication abortions did not entirely expel the fetal tissue from their pregnancies.
Thurman spent 20 hours in a hospital growing increasingly sick from sepsis while doctors dangerously delayed performing a dilation and curettage (D&C), a common procedure used for miscarriage and abortion care, due to Georgia's six-week abortion ban. While the ban includes an "exception" to safe the life of a pregnant person, the law's language only makes clear that doctors can perform a D&C for someone having a miscarriage.
The law stopped Miller from seeking healthcare after suffering the same rare complication as Thurman. The mother of three acquired pills for a medication abortion online but did not expel all the fetal tissue and was "bedridden and moaning" for days before her husband found her unresponsive, next to her three-year-old daughter.
Miller's family said she had not sought care "due to the current legislation on pregnancies and abortions."
At the event on Friday, Harris said that "at least two women—and those are only the stories we know—here in the state of Georgia, died because of a Trump abortion ban."
The vice president noted that Trump said last month he plans to vote against Amendment 4 in his home state of Florida—a ballot measure that would outlaw pre-viability abortion bans in the state.
Harris warned voters not to believe the claims by Trump and his running mate, Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio), that they don't support making abortion illegal across the nation, a proposal made by Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) months after Roe was overturned.
"The stakes are so high," said Harris, "because if he is elected again, I am certain he will sign a national abortion ban."