Local artist Herb Massie and Baltimore Clayworks community arts manager Nicole Fall gasp with joy when they see the area of Shirley Avenue Park cleared from the displeasing overgrowth that previously covered the Northwest Baltimore environment. The sun now shines through the remaining tall trees, creating a perfect, inviting area with great potential for the local community to come and enjoy.

Now, the ceramic arts center has partnered with YouthWorks, Safe Streets, and Park Heights Renaissance to take the next step in making this park even more beautiful by adding a new community mural. The organizations see it as a way to represent the city standing up for itself in the wake of President Donald Trump’s recent negative comments about Baltimore.

“Certainly similar comments have been made about neighborhoods targeted by neglect and judgement by the government,” said Kaliq Simms, director of education programs for Park Heights Renaissance. “So everything that we do at Park Heights Renaissance is meant to be that creative renaissance in a neighborhood that has been underserved.”

Park Heights Renaissance is a local non-profit corporation in Rep. Elijah Cummings’ seventh district that works to shape a better future for the area. Every summer, it partners with the city’s employment program, Youthworks. And this summer, Baltimore Clayworks joined in to create the mural. Simms’ team also collaborated with Human Family Tree Publishing to give Baltimore youth the opportunity to reflect and write about their personal family stories.

“The overarching goal is to give youth agency to express their feelings and ideas about their community,” says Falls of Clayworks, “and to present them in an impactful way.”

Since July 1, the community groups have worked collaboratively to showcase the youth’s unique and meaningful stories using a tile mosaic mural themed around anti-violence and hope. Youthworks students are being taught by Massie as they create the work that will feature the Safe Streets slogan, “There is Hope in the Heights.” Other sections will read: “Keep the peace,” “Stop the violence,” and other messages that the youth want to reinforce.

Simms believes that the project will have a great impact. “They kids are taking on the opportunity to do something to beautify the entire community,” he says, “It’s something that would be an external and very visible symbol of what we aspire to be.”

The program has also been beneficial to the local youth as a place where they can openly express themselves through writing and artwork. According to Simms, it has always been “geared toward trama-responsive education.” He adds that working with clay offers “a very therapeutic experience for youth who have experienced trauma of all kinds.”

The initiative started with about 25 participants, and now, through Youthworks’ extended paid work, there are six exemplary students still working hard and forming strong bonds. Participant Brandon Green says he has come to see his fellow students as not just co-workers, but family.

A former Clayworks employee himself, Massie took on this particular project because he “wanted to do something to benefit the lives of the young people” in the high-crime-rate area of Park Heights. Through pursuing his passion to be an artist, he has become a role model to the students.

“Mr. Massie is like the most inspirational person I know,” says youth member Taniyah Kutcherman, as the other students nod in agreement. And Massie responds with one of his inspirational life lessons—“You don’t want to surround yourself around people who will tell you how good you are, you want to surround yourself around people who will say that’s good, but this is what you should do better. Figure out what you want to do, what your craft is, and start pursuing it.”

Through the gathering of community, the writing of personal stories, and the creation of a hopeful mural, these Baltimore programs have come together to shine a light of the brightness and “re-establish that hope in our neighborhood,” says Simms.

As Massie says, “This is a wall of hope.”

It’s sad, really, the whole situation. How the venue, Pimlico Race Course, for one of America’s most iconic sporting events and one of Baltimore’s great decades-old traditions, the Preakness Stakes, has been left to wither and die.

If you’ve been, there’s no shortage of evidence, from the unusable bathrooms a few years ago, to the 7,000 Old Grandstand seats the track’s owners have said are unsafe to sit in this year, to on Tuesday morning, when a water main burst, leaving a pair of craters in the parking lot just outside the historic-yet-dilapidated, 149-year-old facility’s administrative offices.

Even Pimlico’s jockey’s lounge, used sparingly throughout the year but which you expect would be in better condition for riders preparing for a nationally televised horse race with a $1.5 million purse, looks like it hasn’t been updated since the 1980s (the hand-crank manual pencil sharpener affixed to a desk is a giveaway). Plus, it has its own damage: The frayed net on a Ping-Pong table wouldn’t even allow a fair game.

The course’s crumbling state is all too obvious a symbol of the disarray that surrounds the Preakness Stakes. The ongoing legal and legislative battle and public posturing between Baltimore City and The Stronach Group—the Canadian real estate conglomerate and Pimlico’s owner—which hasn’t hid the fact it wants to move the Preakness 30 minutes south to a “supertrack” in Laurel, has been well documented. (Though we’ve yet to hear how new mayor Jack Young feels about the situation.)

Of course, it makes business sense for the track’s owners to want to have a state-of-the-art, year-round facility halfway between here and Washington, D.C., where they can attract the type of corporate dollars they want, while theoretically strengthening the state’s horse racing presence. And, outside from one weekend a year and the money that some residents of surrounding and blighted Park Heights charge visitors to park, the neighborhood sure doesn’t enjoy the type of long-term economic impact you would hope a legendary sporting event, and its home, could bring to a place.

The 110-acre Pimlico lot sits practically desolate for 50 weeks out of the year—the parking lots are used to do things like walk dogs—coming alive only for 12 days surrounding the running of the Preakness, the second jewel of the famed Triple Crown. When that happens, it only makes the warts more apparent to visitors. You won’t see them on TV, though. “Viewers won’t see the dumped mattresses, tires and garbage on desolate blocks, the high concentration of liquor stores and convenience shops,” is how The Undefeated put it in an article this week.

These hard truths don’t mean it’s easy—or right—to simply throw away one of the great traditions of the city, and the state. That might be why Maryland law says the Preakness can’t be moved from Pimlico for any reason other than “disaster or emergency.” It’s hard to imagine anybody wants a Colts 2.0, though at least this potential move is playing out publicly. In fact, when I visited Pimlico as the sun rose early Tuesday morning and joined one of the free public tours of its barns, I didn’t find one person there who wanted to see the track close down, even if they understood its crumbling condition.

It may have been a biased polling group, but our tour guide, Anita Slebzak, a lifetime horse racing enthusiast who started working at local tracks in 1978, certainly doesn’t want it to happen. “Having the Preakness is like having the Super Bowl or the World Series in your hometown every single year,” she said after guiding a group of nine people around. “I hope that they keep it.”

So does 32-year-old John Anderson, the security guard who tagged along with our group. He’s worked at the track on and off for 15 years; his mom has him beat, at 19. “I work here. My mom works here. My dad will be here tomorrow. My sister will be here on Preakness Day, and so will my will brother-in-law,” he said. From South Baltimore, the guy with gold front teeth and an endearing and infectious laugh isn’t sure if he’d be able to get to Laurel to work, should Pimlico close and its land redeveloped, unless transportation was part of the deal. “There’s no need to take it down,” he said, standing beneath the grandstands. “For what? You make a lot of money here, and it’s historic.”

Indeed, Frank Stronach, 86, a self-made billionaire who has sued his daughter, Belinda, for financial mismanagement of the family assets (and she vice versa), bought Pimlico, and Laurel, in 2002. Money, more money, could have been invested in the place a long time ago. Even so, just two years ago, on a nice weather day, Pimlico set single-day records for attendance (140,237) and handle ($97.16 million).

Even someone who you’d think would have rooting interest for the proposed new location for the state’s premier track, Louann Day, a retired communications official who lives within walking distance of the current Laurel Raceway and took a tour of Pimlico on Tuesday, said she hopes the venue stays right where it is. “This is iconic Maryland,” she said. “It’d be like taking crabs away.”

Gone not only would be the theater, pageantry, and buzz (Infield party or otherwise) of the 100,000-plus watching the running of the Preakness—a reason to celebrate, and we could sure use as many of those as possible. But also disappearing into thin air would be the small, charming moments, the type of early weekday mornings that leave an impression on plastic minds.

Like when Tim Tullock, a veteran outrider and racing analyst who sat on a horse near the start-finish line of Pimlico’s one-mile dirt oval and informed wide-eyed kids (and adults) about the nuances of horses. “Did you know horses can’t throw up?” he said, as a way of explaining that they can’t breathe through their mouth. Later he entertained his own kids, by video-chatting to them from horseback, as he rode about the property.

A few media members stalked the stables, looking for a glimpse of War of Will, one of the horses involved in the controversial Kentucky Derby finish two weeks ago. And security guards talked shop, one about the good old days when you could bring anything in on race day, even your own liquor. A second spoke of another reality. Part of his job Saturday? To retrieve the golf carts that kids from the surrounding divested neighborhood hop the Pimlico fences to steal. (Note: They have GPS in them, so they’re easy to find.)

Meanwhile, television crews ran wires from their many production trucks, in preparation for Preakness Day, making sure the electricity worked. “The Home of the Preakness,” the signage says nearby, a true statement until at least 2020. After then, we don’t know.

Say it ain’t so! Last night, viewers of NBC’s The Voice voted off Park Heights native Davon Fleming. The proud Baltimore resident made local headlines back in September when he wowed the judges with his rendition of Amy Winehouse’s “Me and Mr. Jones” and quickly became a fan-favorite on team Jennifer Hudson with his effortless singing during every performance week to week. 

After a stellar performance on Monday night of “Gravity” by John Mayer, and an unbelievable rendition of The Weeknd’s “Earned It” with Brooke Simpson on team Miley Cyrus, Fleming was in the bottom for the second week in a row. He was ultimately eliminated from the competition and, to put it mildly, fans weren’t too pleased. 

Although his fans were saddened by the results, in typical Davon Fleming fashion, he thanked and encouraged his supporters with this uplifting message.

Jennifer Hudson threw her shoe at him. Adam Levine refused to sit down. Miley Cyrus’s jaw dropped. And Blake Shelton said, “You deserve to win this show.” All four judges were equally impressed with Baltimore native Davon Fleming’s blind audition for season 13 of NBC’s The Voice. Singing his rendition of Amy Winehouse’s “Me and Mr. Jones,” Fleming wowed the audience and coaches, receiving the coveted four-chair turn.

“You’re praying that they turn around,” Fleming told Baltimore. “When they do, you can’t get excited and stop singing—so I just smiled really big and kept going.”

Each coach was given a turn to plead for him to join their team, but after singing a Whitney Houston song with Hudson, there was no doubt in Fleming’s mind that she would be his coach. Since then—under JHud Productions—he’s won his battle round and, most recently, the knockout round. Next he will compete in the playoff rounds which air on November 13. Should he make it through, he will perform on the live shows that begin November 20. 

On Fleming’s recent visit to the Baltimore magazine, we learned so much about him—he has a twin brother (Tavon), he wasn’t accepted to attend the Baltimore School for the Arts (gasp), and he wants to be the male Whitney Houston. (The magazine’s staff was also lucky enough to witness an intimate performance of his right in our lobby.)

Back in Los Angeles, Fleming has had plenty of memorable moments, namely meeting Hudson’s musical advisor, singer Kelly Rowland. Fleming’s reaction to seeing Rowland was a mix of shock and raw emotion, crashing into the door as he caught a glimpse of her.

“We didn’t know about Kelly—they don’t tell us who the advisors are,” he said. “Kelly was so sweet. It’s so cool to see that the people you grew up listening to are actually like that in real life. I couldn’t help but cry—it was humbling.”

Aside from meeting new people, making life-long friends, and working with some of the most successful artists in the world, Fleming has grown as an artist since being on the show. He’s more assured than ever of his true purpose in life.

“Win or lose, I’ve already exceeded my expectations,” he said. “My goal isn’t to win, it’s to just be a light and inspiration in my community—to let people all over know that you don’t have to be a product of your environment.”

Having grown up in Park Heights, with a background rooted firmly in the Bethel Temple Church of Christ on Rogers Avenue, Fleming took a chance when he chose to perform a rendition of MercyMe’s “I Can Only Imagine.” The advice he received from guest advisor, singer Kelly Clarkson, helped him to win the round and stay true to his beliefs at the same time.

“I knew it was risky doing a gospel song, but I wanted to show my faith,” he said about his performance. “She told me that I’m the ‘vessel for my message.’ I started in the church, and I want to be able to cross over and still bring Christ to them.”

Since the episode of his blind audition aired, Fleming has returned home but will be traveling back to California for the live shows this week. His life has been forever changed since being on the show—including pure pandemonium on a routine visit to Mondawmin Mall—but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I love the love,” he said. “I will never turn down a picture, or an autograph because I’m always going to be that little kid from Park Heights that wanted to sing.”