In planner-speak, we are “overbuilt.” These parking spaces were expensive to create in the first place and, as we’ve shown, the replacement bills coming due for taxpayers could be impossibly high. There is some good news, though, which is that the movement to #EndParkingMinimums is gaining momentum. Local governments everywhere are striking these costly requirements from their codes...or relaxing them, which is at least a step in the right direction.

And yet, looked at another way, we are underbuilt. This is because all the land tied up in parking spaces could be used in far better ways. As Joni Mitchell sang back in 1970, we’ve paved paradise and put up a parking lot. Mitchell was right on another count too: we usually don’t know what we’ve got ‘til it’s gone. That’s the stage many communities are in now, as residents look around and see asphalt wastelands where once life had been (in the form of houses, historic buildings, small businesses, or green spaces).

Which brings us to our second bit of good news: namely, that more and more of these same communities are converting their parking wastelands back into more valuable assets. In some cases, they are de-paving parking lots so paradise can grow again as parks and urban farms. Other towns and cities are repurposing surface parking and parking garages into much-needed revenue generators, including housing and retail space.

Below are six ways this is happening now around North America. This article is longer than usual because I wanted to provide a wide range of examples of how towns and cities are finally liberating the value long sequestered as empty parking. I wanted you to see that—whatever level of resources you and your community have available—there are things you can do to transform your parking spaces into the kinds of places that will make your town or city lovelier, more vibrant, and financially stronger.

1. Convert parking to parks

One way we’ve seen people reclaim parking spaces is by transforming them into parks and pocket parks. All around North America, as well as in Europe, communities are replacing “the worst kind of infrastructure with the best.”

Back in 2005, members of the renowned San Francisco design studio REBAR plugged a parking meter for a few hours, rolled out some sod, and set out a potted tree and a bench to sit on. Thus was born the first PARK. Since then, the third Friday of September has been designated PARK(ing) Day. PARK(ing) Day events now occur in hundreds of cities around the world, in what REBAR described as “a global experiment in remixing, reclaiming and reprogramming vehicular space…” Some of the temporary parks in San Francisco have now even become permanent parklets.

I recently talked to architect Joshua Tomey about his experience organizing a PARK(ing) Day event this year in Columbus, Ohio. Tomey had seen a news article after-the-fact about September 2018’s event in Columbus, and so he set a reminder on his phone to check back in a year. But when the reminder came, and he made inquiries with the local chapter of the American Society Landscape Architecture (ASLA)—the ASLA helps organize PARK(ing) Day—there didn’t seem to be anything brewing. So he took matters into his own hands. He found an implementation manual online. He contacted the city to see if he needed a permit. When he didn’t get a clear answer, he pushed forward anyway, deciding to ask for forgiveness if he couldn’t ask for permission.

Tomey also decided to collaborate with a local business who wouldn’t complain about losing a parking space in front of their shop for a day. He found the perfect partner in Prologue Bookshop, a relatively new bookstore in Columbus’s Short North Arts District. The owner and manager of Prologue, Dan Brewster, is a native of northeastern Ohio. But he had also lived in the Bay Area and was familiar with PARK(ing) Day. Together, Tomey and Brewster designed their pop-up park as a kind of “outdoor reading room.” Prologue promoted the upcoming event to its customers. Tomey found other partners too. A local plant shop, STUMP, loaned out some palm trees. Friends and coworkers brought potted plants. The patio furniture came from someone’s backyard. In the end, their only cost was $20 to rent a truck (to haul the supplies) and approximately $7 in “parking” fees.