Why It Took a Decade to Realize the Soul of the City BID

Why It Took a Decade to Realize the Soul of the City BID

A PowerShifts case study on timing, trust, and the discipline to pivot without letting the vision die.

The Short Answer

Because place-based power is built, not bestowed—and in Congress Heights, the conditions for a sustainable Business Improvement District (BID) simply did not exist in 2015. It took ten years of research, failed pilots, voluntary organizing, trust-building, and catalytic investment for the math, the map, and the moment to finally align.

The Long Answer (and the Lessons)

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Phase I (2015–2016): When the Numbers Told the Truth

Our first formal BID exploration in 2015–2016 did exactly what good feasibility work is supposed to do: it told us no.

The boundaries we examined at the time were not financially viable. The corridor was dominated by government-owned and nonprofit-owned properties, which are exempt from the BID assessment that underwrites Clean, Safe, and Activate services. Even modeling the highest BID rates charged citywide, there simply wasn’t enough taxable commercial base to sustain a BID.

That finding mattered. It forced us to confront an uncomfortable truth: desire and vision cannot substitute for economic fundamentals.

At that moment, Congress Heights had not yet experienced the catalytic spark that could unlock scale. The commercial ecosystem was fragile. Foot traffic was inconsistent. Vacancy and blight were visible. And most importantly, the district had not yet been invited into the city’s growth conversation in a meaningful way.

We could have walked away.

We didn’t.

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Phase II (2017–2020): Holding the Ball High

In basketball terms, when the lane closes, you don’t force the shot—you pivot.

The so-called “failure” of that first BID attempt produced our first major insight:

Never let the absence of one tool kill the larger strategy.

Instead of shelving the vision, we created the Congress Heights Partnership—a BID-like, place-based organization funded almost entirely by voluntary contributions (or the lack thereof). It was imperfect by design. There was no guaranteed revenue stream. No ability to levy assessments. No staff salaries. No formal Clean or Safe contracts.

And yet, it was exactly what the moment required.

A crucial early boost came from Monumental Sports & Entertainment, which provided a $25,000 seed grant—our second-ever grant—to help stand up the organization, formalize its structure, and begin articulating a community development model rooted in agency, not charity.

Let’s be clear:

• We couldn’t pay staff.

• We couldn’t run real Clean & Safe operations.

• We certainly couldn’t activate public space at scale.

So we did the only thing available to us: we convened power.

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Phase III: Building the Muscle to Plan Together

With limited dollars but abundant conviction, we focused on container-building—the invisible infrastructure that precedes visible change.

• We convened ANC Commissioners for virtual brunches, creating space for shared learning rather than fragmented advocacy.

• We invited major economic development players to present their visions—not at the community, but with the community.

• We hired Dr. B.P. Walker, whose role was not tactical execution but helping us name the container, articulate ambitious goals, and define a distinct value proposition for a low-wealth, high-potential corridor.

• We partnered with Jeanette Hanna of Trajectory, steeping ourselves in storytelling, visioning, and brand architecture long before we had the budget to deploy it.

• We worked with Otto Condon of ZGF Architects to reimagine public space—what it could be, not just what it was.

And then something extraordinary happened.

A mini-army of urban planners showed up.

Led by some of the sharpest minds in the field—Richard Bradley, Ellen McCarthy, Ewe Brandeis, and Peter Byrne—students and professionals volunteered their time to help us confront the ugly realities of land use disparities in emerging (read: low-wealth) communities.

They analyzed parcels.

They dissected stalled projects.

They studied best-in-class national exemplars that could be retrofitted for Congress Heights.

We produced binders—literal binders—of student capstones and case studies, including:

• COLAB, a community innovation incubator out of the University of Charlotte focused on locally rooted retail and food concepts (sound familiar? Hello, Sycamore & Oak).

• Federal installations partnering beyond their fences with surrounding neighborhoods (hello, St. Elizabeths East.

All of it was unfunded.

All of it was necessary.

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Phase IV: The Catalyst Arrives

Then came the moment that changed the math.

The arena we now know as CareFirst Arena did more than host games—it signaled belief. Since its arrival, Congress Heights has seen more than $1 billion in investment:

• St. Elizabeths East redevelopment

• A new hospital

• Thousands of units of homeownership delivered or planned

• New commercial activity and infrastructure

For the first time, adjacent but historically disconnected corridors were developing simultaneously—yet still without coordination.

That was the real problem we finally named:

Fragmented planning was suppressing collective impact.

Vacant parcels sat next to new construction. Small businesses struggled without lighting, signage, foot traffic, or coordinated marketing. Graffiti narrated decline before customers ever reached the door.

And then—full circle—one of those early, young urban planners re-emerged, this time as a seasoned professional. Together, we re-ran the analysis.

New footprint.

New connections.

New tax base.

This time, the numbers worked.

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Phase V: Timing Is Everything

Lesson two became undeniable: timing isn’t luck—it’s readiness meeting momentum.

When we relaunched the BID effort, we weren’t strangers. We had spent a decade listening, helping small businesses write grants, navigating infrastructure disruptions, attending ANC and civic meetings, and answering calls when no one else did.

So when we asked property owners—many already operating on thin margins—to tax themselves for a promise, it wasn’t theoretical.

They had already seen us do the work.

That’s the hidden gift of the Congress Heights Partnership. While we thought we were sidelined, we were actually putting points on the board.

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The Outcome: From Vision to Implementation

Today, the Soul of the City BID moves into implementation with clarity and discipline—setting standards for what property and business owners can expect, advocating for a coordinated commercial ecosystem, and systematically removing barriers to growth while driving real quality-of-life indicators.

The PowerShifts Takeaway

• Research that says “no” is not failure—it’s instruction.

• Voluntary systems can’t replace structural tools, but they can build trust.

• You don’t wait for power—you practice it until it becomes undeniable.

• And above all: hold the ball high, pivot, and go back up.

Because sometimes, it doesn’t take a decade to win.

It takes a decade to be ready