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UNEARTHING Plans for a City Farm in Ballymun are
adding to a regeneration process which is literally rooted in local soil. words Michael Lanigan photos Killian Broderick “To listen to some people, you would think kids around here have never done one positive thing, but given the opportunity, their enthusiasm is amazing.” Without the words ‘Joseph Plunkett Tower’ engraved into the single pink archway off Balbutcher Lane, the 13 acres beyond might seem to be little other than a pleasant park; a calm stretch of hilly land that sits behind a school and church. Once that circular plaque bearing the title is spotted, however, history soberingly grounds you. The Joseph Plunkett was one of seven 15-storey tower blocks erected in Ballymun during the 1960s. Each named in honour of an Easter Rising leader, this hastily executed plan to house thousands of inner-city slum inhabitants was initially presented as a luxurious prospect. But inadequate funding, maintenance and amenities turned this Utopian place into a centre of urban decay within two decades. These towers became synonymous with crime, heroin and poverty. And once a regeneration programme was launched in 1997 to redeem this North Dublin suburb, they were demolished one-by-one. Starting in 2004 and ending in 2016, Joseph Plunkett was the last to come down. Henceforth, even the mere mention of high-rises as a solution to housing shortages in Dublin became taboo. Nevertheless, for what perceptions of hopelessness are projected onto the land from outside Ballymun, locally this looks like the spot to start over. “That’s where we’re going,” Stephen Hayden, the chairperson of Ballymun City Farm tells me as we stand across the street by the old derelict shopping mall. “You can see the potential on that site.” It has “farm” written all over it, he enthuses. His plan is to set up a city farm; a communal, educational and recreational space for people of all abilities to engage with agriculture and horticulture. Focusing specifically on issues of environmentalism and organic food production, the Ballymun City Farm is intended as a grassroots, voluntary contribution to the area. “22 years into this regeneration project now, is it?” Stephen asks rhetorically. “And still it’s not completed. A billion euro spent on regeneration.” The regeneration process was undertaken to move the towers’ residents into new improved homes. Yet, the project faced a setback when several houses were found to contain pyrite, a defective material known as ‘Fools Gold.’ Over €10.5 million was needed to solve the issue. And although more than 2,000 homes would eventually be built, the same issues that wrought havoc on the flats were making a return. Coupling this with the recession which halted the construction of an €800 million shopping centre and by the time Ireland began to recover, Ballymun was still left trailing behind. Broken Window Theory was cited as chief among local concerns during plans to salvage the area. “A piece of property is abandoned, weeds grow up, a window is smashed,” wrote the theory’s proponents, James Q. Wilson and George Kelling in a 1982 Atlantic article that popularised the concept. If the window is not repaired, litter gathers and loitering ensues. Anti-social behaviour increases and eventually leads to serious criminal activity. Without any indication of a robust authority, or even a person willing to mend the broken window, the working class urban area is effectively informed that nobody is interested in supporting them. Mistrust towards statutory bodies then intensifies, locals are reluctant to seek help, and a view from the outside cultivates denigrating images of such communities, isolating them more and more. A city farm could effectively be the first step towards repair. Conceived as a community garden, the original intention was to reclaim a green adjacent to the Joseph Plunkett where fly-tipping, refuse burning and anti-social behaviour was commonplace. Proposed to Dublin City Council by a committee of experienced gardeners, in short, the idea was to start by mending the “broken window,” and instill a sense of pride among locals in their home. From there, they could begin to change the negative perceptions held towards Ballymun. “Unfortunately, Ballymun does have a stigma from a long time ago,” laments Ronnie O’Connell, co-founder of Muck and Magic, a local, voluntary-led community garden. “There is an invisible barrier for a lot of young men and women here when they go out into the world,” Stephen agrees. The world does not see this place the way they do. Google Balbutcher Lane. What shows up 26