Narrative: “Designing with, Not For”

I’m not from La Florida. And that matters.

Because this story isn’t about fixing anything—it’s about slowing down, listening, and finding ways to build with, not for. From the outside, La Florida is often labeled as a dense, vulnerable periphery. But behind those numbers, there’s another reality—one of care, collaboration, and creativity.

La Florida holds over 50,000 people within less than one square kilometer. That’s like fitting the population of a small city into the space of a large park. But what this density creates isn’t just pressure—it creates proximity. Every corner is alive with people doing, helping, solving, and sharing.

When I began my research, I was focused on digital tools, makerspaces, and speculative models of social inclusion. But stepping into the community garden—supported by a local organization and shaped by many hands—I encountered something more grounded and powerful: everyday making as a form of knowledge, connection, and resistance.

In this space, building is not about speed or spectacle—it’s about rhythm and relationship. People come and go, offer their time, their stories, their skills. One day, someone fixes a broken tool. Another day, someone suggests an idea for a new bench, or a structure to protect seedlings. Every action is a seed for something more.

As a designer with access, tools, and training, my place here is not to push, but to adapt. I’ve learned that working with a community means giving up the illusion of control. It means supporting what’s already in motion, amplifying what’s already valuable, and walking at the pace of trust.

The garden is not just a physical space—it’s a commons, a classroom, and a living archive of ways of knowing that often go unseen. And within it lies the opportunity for future actions: collaborative building, co-design sessions, storytelling through making—always driven by mutual respect and shared curiosity.

This is not a story about intervention. It’s a story about accompaniment. In a neighborhood where challenges are real, but so is resilience, the role of design is not to direct, but to stay open—to the people, to the place, and to the possibility of doing things differently.