In the midst of an invisible crisis in youth mental health, a disturbing question arises: What if we’re going about it all wrong? What if what suffering young people really need is someone they trust to talk to?

That’s the idea behind putting youth at the center of the conversation on mental health. With the traditional systems that support teen and young adult mental well-being in danger of breaking down – maybe it’s the youth themselves who hold the keys to creating a better, brighter future.

In the following video, Soapbox Health Justice in Action project editor and writer David Holthaus explains more about the youth mental health challenge along with strategies that the Hopeful Empowered Youth (HEY!) initiative has been developing over the last two years.

People who feel their voice matters are healthier and empowered. As divisions nationally appear to become deeper, this series, part of the larger Health Justice in Action project, examines efforts to make voices heard and improve community connections.

This series is made possible with support from Interact for Health. To learn more about Interact for Health’s commitment to working with communities to advance health justice, please visit here.

For generations, opera has been celebrated as one of the world’s most powerful artistic forms. It has served as a place where music, storytelling, and emotion converge on a grand scale. Yet despite its artistic richness, the stories traditionally told on operatic stages have often excluded the experiences, aspirations, and cultural realities of Black Americans.

The Cincinnati Opera is working to change that.

Through its ambitious, the Black Opera Project, the Cincinnati Opera is investing millions of dollars and years of creative development into a groundbreaking initiative designed to create new operas by Black artists that celebrate Black life, culture, joy and resilience. During a recent conversation with Cincinnati Opera Artistic Director Evans Mirageas, it became clear that this effort is about far more than producing new works. It is about helping to reshape the future of opera itself.

“This is not simply a commissioning project,” Mirageas explained. “It is an opportunity to expand the stories that opera tells and the audiences who see themselves reflected in those stories.”

The Black Opera Project emerged from conversations that began several years ago during the summer of 2019, following Cincinnati Opera’s production of “Porgy and Bess.” During discussions with cast members, including internationally acclaimed bass Morris Robinson who serves as Cincinnati Opera’s artistic advisor, a recurring theme surfaced: while Black performers have long contributed to opera, there remained a significant shortage of contemporary operatic works that portrayed Black experiences through a lens of possibility, empowerment and joy.

The challenge was clear. If opera is to remain a living art form rather than a museum piece, it must continue evolving to reflect the full diversity of human experience. Rather than treating those conversations as theoretical discussions, Cincinnati Opera acted.

The result has been the creation of a first-of-its-kind initiative that has commissioned and produced three full-length operas created by Black composers, librettists, directors and creative teams. The project, supported in part by funding from the Mellon Foundation and backed by Cincinnati Opera’s own substantial financial commitment, represents an investment of approximately $6 million. The first opera in the series, “Lalovavi,” exemplifies that vision.

Created by composer Kevin Day, librettist Tifara Brown, and director-dramaturg Kimille Howard, the work explores Afrofuturism through a sweeping narrative set 400 years in the future. The story follows Persephone, a young woman whose discovery of a rare genetic trait launches her into a journey involving family betrayal, identity, love, and self-determination. The opera also incorporates elements of Tut, a language developed by enslaved Black Americans as a means of communication and literacy. The title itself translates to “love.”

What makes “Lalovavi” especially significant is not simply its creative team or futuristic setting. It represents a deliberate effort to imagine Black futures. Too often, stories involving Black communities focus exclusively on trauma, struggle or oppression. While those narratives remain important, the creators behind “Lalovavi” sought to explore something equally meaningful: hope.

Mirageas emphasized that audiences should not expect these operas to function as historical lessons alone. Instead, they are intended to be fully realized artistic experiences capable of engaging anyone, regardless of background.

“Great opera succeeds because of compelling characters and universal emotions,” he said. “These works are rooted in Black experiences, but their themes are fundamentally human.”

The project’s second opera scheduled to be performed the summer of 2027, “John Lewis: Good Trouble,” will focus on the life and legacy of Congressman John Lewis, one of the most influential figures of the Civil Rights Movement. Additional details regarding the third opera, to be performed in the summer of 2028, are expected in the future. Together, the three works will form a remarkable artistic trilogy centered on Black storytelling. The scale of the initiative has required patience.

That commitment to development reflects Cincinnati Opera’s broader reputation as a national leader in fostering new works. Under Mirageas’s leadership, the company has championed contemporary opera and collaborated extensively with creators through programs designed to bring fresh voices into the field. 

Yet the Black Opera Project represents something even larger. It signals a belief that arts institutions can play a meaningful role in cultural transformation. At a time when conversations about representation continue to shape the American cultural landscape, Cincinnati Opera is demonstrating that inclusion is not merely about casting decisions or programming statements. It is about empowering creators to tell stories from their own perspectives.

For the Greater Cincinnati region, the project also reinforces the region’s growing reputation as a center for artistic innovation. While audiences may traditionally associate opera with European classics and centuries-old masterpieces, the Black Opera Project reminds us that opera remains a living medium capable of reflecting contemporary realities and aspirations.

If the Black Opera Project succeeds, and all indications suggest that it will, it may become one of the most important artistic initiatives in Cincinnati Opera’s history. More importantly, it may help establish a new model for how cultural institutions across the nation engage diverse voices, nurture emerging creators, and ensure that future generations can see themselves reflected in the stories that shape our collective imagination. In doing so, Cincinnati Opera is not only producing new works. It is helping write a new chapter in the story of American opera.

What: Cincinnati Opera’s 2026 Summer Festival presents “Salome,” “Lalovavi,” “Carmen” and “Orpheus and Euridice” plus Studio Sessions

When: The 106^th season runs June 18 – August 2, 2026.

Where: Music Hall’s Springer Auditorium with Studio Sessions in Wilks Studio

Information and tickets: Visit Cincinnati Opera here.

Listen here:

This story is part of a series on the challenges and solutions related to oral health in Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio. It is made possible with funding support from the Delta Dental Foundation.

A woman from Muskegon knew she needed dental care, but years of bad experiences kept her from making an appointment.

However, she finally agreed to a virtual conversation with a dentist through Cherry Health‘s teledentistry pilot program. A few weeks later, the woman drove to the federally qualified health center in Grand Rapids for a comprehensive dental exam.

“She flat out said she wouldn’t have done it had she not had that visit first,” Dr. Bryan Wazbinski says. 

Her experience illustrates what Cherry Health hopes to accomplish through a pilot program designed to connect patients with a dentist before they ever set foot in a dental office. As dental provider shortages continue across Michigan, particularly in rural communities and among underserved populations, health leaders are exploring whether teledentistry can help reduce barriers to care, ease anxiety, and connect more patients with treatment.

“The teledentistry part has really reaffirmed for me just how helpful a simple conversation with a doctor can be,” says Wazbinski, chief dental officer at Cherry Health.

Valuable conversations

Many people are used to talking with a doctor through telehealth, but dental care is often viewed differently.

“Most people think of dentistry as a procedure, like a filling or a cleaning,” Wazbinski says. “But what a lot of people don’t realize is that the conversation is just as much a part of the appointment as anything else.”

During the virtual visits, patients may talk with a dentist about a range of issues such as tooth pain, questions about dental treatment, or general concerns about their oral health. Wazbinski says those conversations often help patients feel more comfortable getting the care they need.

Cherry Health started the pilot program late last year at its methadone clinics in Grand Rapids and Muskegon, recognizing an opportunity to bring access to dental care to patients already engaged in other Cherry Health services 

“The idea was that these patients are already utilizing one of our services,” Wazbinski says. “So it made sense to make our dental services easier for them to access.”

The pilot reflects Cherry Health’s focus on connecting patients with multiple services within one organization, creating opportunities for more integrated care.

“We are bringing a door to our dental services to them and making it easier for them to access it,” he says.

The virtual visits let patients talk with a dentist before coming into the office. A dental assistant may also help collect information, including X-rays. This helps the dental team decide the best next steps for each patient, such as directing them to same-day care or scheduling a full dental exam.

Cherry Health is continuing to refine the pilot and is moving toward a more on-demand model that would allow staff to connect patients with a dentist when the need arises rather than limiting visits to scheduled sessions.

Break down barriers

The program is different from many telehealth visits. The goal is not just to identify treatment needs, but also to help them feel comfortable and take the first step toward getting dental care.

Wazbinski recalls hearing some patients say, “I was worried that I was going to get judged because it’s been so long.” 

He says many patients arrive carrying years of anxiety about dental care.

“I’ve even had a couple of patients that said, ‘In a million years, I would never end up in a dental office,'” Wazbinski says. “But we got them in and were able to help them. I don’t know that they would have done that without the virtual visit first.”

Another patient experiencing severe tooth pain connected with Wazbinski through the pilot. After reviewing the patient’s symptoms and X-rays, Cherry Health arranged treatment the same day.

That type of intervention could help reduce unnecessary emergency room visits, which often provide temporary relief but do not address the underlying dental issue.

“If you’re having tooth pain, go to a dentist, not the emergency room. Community health centers like Cherry Health are great options to get the care you need,” Wazbinski says. “That’s my No. 1 message for anybody that’s been dealing with tooth pain.”

Many Cherry Health patients face barriers beyond oral health that make it harder to access dental care. “Like anyone, our patients have a lot going on in their lives. We try to make care as easy to access as we can.  

Always evolving

The pilot has been a little slow to start, but Wazbinski says the response from patients who have used the service has been encouraging.

“Everybody who does use it, the feedback has been really, really good,” he says. “We’re kind of laying the foundation for where this can go. I see a lot of potential.”

The pilot also highlights policy challenges that limit teledentistry in Michigan.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, many providers adopted virtual care because reimbursement rules were temporarily expanded. Many of those changes expired after the public health emergency ended.

Michigan’s Medicaid program currently reimburses a very limited range of live video teledentistry services. Other states have adopted broader policies, including “store-and-forward” models that allow hygienists or assistants to collect information and send it to a dentist for later review.

“I think anybody could benefit from this service,” Wazbinski says. “If you’re having a dental issue or have questions about your oral health, you should be able to do this from your house, too.”

Wazbinski believes the pilot demonstrates that access to care is not always about adding more clinics or providers. Sometimes it begins with a conversation. 

“The demand is there,” he says. “There are so many people who need access to dental care but don’t have it.”

Photos courtesy of Cherry Health and Rapid Growth files.

Since it first announced its presence in 1996 by pitching a tent near SCPA’s former Pendleton campus, ArtWorks has built a laudable, enduring legacy as a leader in the Greater Cincinnati arts scene. For the past 20 years, the organization has spearheaded the production with scores of super-sized murals that adorn walls across the region. It’s also been an innovator in providing arts-education opportunities for aspiring school-age artists.

After moving into its stately new digs at 2429 Gilbert Ave. last spring, ArtWorks embraced the expansion of its mission with the goal of making regional, even national, impact. It had not escaped the organization’s notice that ArtWorks has become a common arts-organization moniker nationwide.

“There have been donors who have accidentally contributed to another ArtWorks organization,” Colleen Houston, its CEO and creative director, noted.

The organization was inspired by a slogan used by Bolce Paint Co., their space’s former occupant: “1000 and 1 Colors.” Tipping its cap to their home base’s legacy and their goal to grow their mission, effective June 1, the organization became known as 1001 Colors. Houston noted that its new appellation is important because it’s “distinct, memorable, and represents a palette of color and potential that’s accessible to every artist and student and provides a compelling visual identity and represents our flexibility and commitment to collaboration.”

Plans for how to leverage the organization’s rebrand are continually evolving, but Houston noted that 1001 Colors’ growth to employing artists year-round is a significant indicator of its growth, and that she would welcome opportunities to broaden artists’ horizons such as exchanges with other regional and national arts organizations.

The new name was announced during the organization’s 30^th anniversary ArtDinner, which gathered more than 300 of the Queen City’s leaders. Concurrently, 1001 Colors also unveiled its new website, www.1001colors.org, and unveiled its latest round of summer mural projects, which will employ more than 100 students age 14-21 for mural and film projects across the city. The organization also revealed this year’s roster of grand-format public art, which includes adorning an exterior wall at Cincinnati Public Radio’s new Evanston facility, as well as a mural in homage to the Tuskegee Airmen as part of the America 250 celebration (identical renderings will bedeck Cleveland and Toledo buildings).

Since 1001 Colors’ inception, the organization has produced more than 400 murals across Greater Cincinnati, completed more than 14,000 creative projects, and hired more than 8,000 young artists.

Several artists and city leaders with ties to 1001 Colors lauded the organization:

• Trey Small, a former 1001 Colors youth apprentice and current professional artist: “It wasn’t just about art. It was about being part of a community of artists across the board that I was learning so much from. Without 1001 Colors, my life would look a lot different.”
• Roxanne Qualls, former Cincinnati mayor and 1001 Colors co-founder: “Without [1001 Colors], Cincinnati would be a little less than what it is in terms of public art, how people feel about their community, and the ability of young people to find pathways into the arts.”
• Mark Mallory, former Cincinnati mayor: “The murals in Cincinnati are a visual representation of the creativity of this area. That visual impact is something that will never go away.”

This story was originally reported by Chabeli Carrazana of The 19th. Meet Chabeli and read more of their reporting on gender, politics and policy.

At the administrative assistants’ conference, everyone wants to talk about AI. 

Among the workers who are most likely to have a hard time finding a new job if AI takes theirs, 86 percent are women, according to findings from a recent Brookings Institution study. Most of them are admins or clerical staff, one of the top 10 fields with the highest concentration of women workers. 

So in the place where administrative assistants gather to talk about their industry and hone their craft, AI offerings abound: There is a class on how to prompt AI as an executive assistant and one on how to better use Microsoft Copilot or Google Gemini. Use AI to work smarter, not harder, one session boasts. 

Debra Coleman, who teaches the Gemini course at the Administrative Professionals Conference, said the popularity of these classes has taken off in just a few short years. They’re always wall to wall with administrative and clerical workers who, like her, have no trouble reading the tea leaves (or the headlines). 

The mentality over the past couple of years has been, “Our jobs are toast,” said Coleman, who has been an administrative professional for 30 years. 

The embrace of AI has happened quickly. Just three years ago, AI was met with significant skepticism from admins, a field that has historically been undervalued in part because of its workforce. They were viewed as notetaking secretaries rather than operational strategists in their offices. There was a worry, Coleman said, that incorporating AI would lead others to further devalue that work. As women, would their AI usage be viewed as an asset or a crutch? 

“The male administrative support professionals, if you were to put both of us in a room and he stood up and said, ‘I’m incorporating AI into my everyday workflows,’ my sense is that he would be applauded,” Coleman said. “If I stood up and said, ‘I want to incorporate AI into my workflows,’ well, why are you being lazy, why do you want to do that?” 

That competency penalty Coleman referenced is real: In one study where people were asked to review two identical code snippets labeled as written with or without AI assistance, women who appeared to use AI were consistently rated as less competent than the men. Women in general have many reasons to be skeptical of a technology that has been developed largely by men with uses that have become increasingly predatory toward women. But faced with real threats to their livelihoods, many admins have chosen to learn to use the tech to work for them, and some managers have learned to seek out workers with those skills.

Those facing the greatest threats of losing their jobs or having their jobs automated are admins whose jobs are very task-based, centering heavily on sending emails or scheduling meetings. Among those who may have a harder time finding a new position are older women who have been in their roles for decades and those in more rural pockets of the country where reemployment opportunities are narrower.

The threats are also higher for women of color, who make up 31 percent of workers in the 15 most AI-vulnerable jobs. Black women’s unemployment rates have been climbing as other sectors that offered them long-term stable jobs, like government employment, hemorrhaged positions. It’s “kind of a perfect storm,” said Katherine Robbins Gallagher, a senior fellow at the National Partnership for Women & Families, who has studied the impact of AI displacement on women.  

The concern among economists is not just job loss, but the way that it could destabilize entire families and communities, said Michelle Miller, the director of innovation for the Center for Labor and a Just Economy at Harvard Law School, where she researches the impact of AI on working women.  

“These women — mostly women — have some of the last remaining decent working-class jobs that might enable them to be the only person in the extended family that has an extra bedroom so if someone else loses their job, they don’t become unhoused, or they have predictable hours so that they can do school pickup, they can take people to doctor’s appointments,” Miller said. “The structure of their lives is not just about that they have this job — it’s sort of an exponential impact.”

Already, admins are adapting. Over the past two years the number of administrative professionals who said they have adopted AI has tripled, from 26 percent in 2024 to 77 percent this year, according to the American Society of Administrative Professionals’ annual report. 

Leah Warwick, senior content manager for the American Society of Administrative Professionals, said the push now is to create new roles that incorporate AI but highlight the strategic part of the work. New titles are already cropping up: Goodbye, executive assistant; hello, director of executive operations.

“Complex operations, frankly, is where we see things going with this profession,” Warwick said. “They’re rewriting their roles right now.”

If this story sounds familiar, it’s because we’ve been here before. Administrative professionals are no strangers to technology threatening to eliminate or change their jobs. 

In 1998, the Los Angeles Times proclaimed: “Celebrate Secretaries Day while you can — it may be on the way out. Not only have the tools of a secretary’s trade changed dramatically in the last decade, but the word ‘secretary’ itself is becoming as passe as carbon paper. Yesterday’s IBM Selectric is today’s Microsoft Word or Powerpoint, and yesterday’s secretary is today’s administrative assistant.”

A decade before that, the Washington Post reported that “U.S. companies are dropping stenographers, typists and secretaries and replacing them with word processors, high-speed copiers and sophisticated dictaphones.”

Around 1985, when that Washington Post article was written, there were about 19 million clerical and secretarial workers across the nation, making up 18 percent of the entire workforce. Today, the number is about 2 million. 

Karen Nussbaum, who co-founded the clerical workers union 9to5 in 1973 and later headed the Department of Labor’s Women’s Bureau, told The 19th that there are numerous parallels today with what the union faced 50 years ago.

“The concerns were at two levels: What’s going to happen to me — what will my job be like, will I get trained for the new jobs, will it be paid a living wage; and what would be the new rules for the workforce — the restructuring of clerical jobs to eliminate decision-making, constant computer monitoring, the division of clerical jobs into a small number of administrative assistants and big pools of highly routine work at call centers,” Nussbaum said. 

By 1980, Nussbaum said they knew they had about five years to shape what their jobs would be before a new crop of employees were hired with new expectations. The union fought to organize workers to help them collectively bargain as layoffs swept the field — some 645,000 jobs were lost from 1983 to 1987 alone — and launched a Job Retention Project that taught workers to adapt to the changing technology by developing their problem solving and time management skills. 

Today, Coleman said workers are trying to upskill to keep up with changing job descriptions and expectations that now require AI proficiency. In the interview process, workers are often asked to explain how they’d use AI to help streamline their work, she said. 

What’s not catching up, administrative professionals told The 19th, is the training and resources workers need to make the jump to AI. According to the American Society of Administrative Professionals’ annual report, only 47 percent feel confident integrating it into their workflows. It’s part of why AI classes are consistently the most popular at admin conferences. 

Miller, who has been conducting lengthy interviews with women in clerical roles, said the message is consistently: “Just figure it out.” 

“I’m less concerned about AI’s structural threat inside the workplace than I am for the totally goofy, unplanned mixed messages,” Miller said. “That’s the other thing that makes me wonder if there’s a massive displacement coming — you do have to have a plan for this is going to work and employers are not making those plans. They’re leaving it to individual workers.” 

Mark Muro, one of the authors of the Brookings report, said much of the onus of what comes next will be on employers and how they respond. 

“Are they seeking to just automate these jobs away or are they helping some of these women move to some of the more important jobs in the office?” Muro said. “The hope is firms will not just see this an opportunity to automate and also see it as a chance for women to find a mainstay job in the firm.” 

If that’s the way it goes, then there is opportunity in the AI age. Research has found that past technological disruptions have effectively helped college-educated women admin workers secure higher skill, higher paid jobs, though they still only represent between a quarter and a third of the workforce.

Alison Taffel Rabinowitz, a career coach and founder of the women career training program the Finishing School, said that for many years, administrative roles trapped women in low-pay, low-benefit work that didn’t live up to their full potential. 

“That admin role had so much unseen strategy work but the thing that got the most spotlight was: Did the conference room have the right amount of food?” Taffel Rabinowitz said. “Maybe AI forcing that issue is brutal, but maybe it’s a reset. The roles that survive have to be reimagined and the best people to be reimagining them are women.” 

That’s the pitch Kathy A. Adams and Rhonda Augustus, two administrative professionals with 50 years of experience between them, have been making for the women who are a part of the network they run called the Black Executive Admin Network, an industry support group. 

Augustus, who has been job hunting since the end of last year after she was laid off from a telecommunications firm, said she’s used AI to optimize her resume to stand out in a crowded field, and to prepare her for the interviews themselves. In interviews, prospective employers don’t want to know if she can manage travel and expenses and the calendar. They now want to know what AI she’s using to prioritize tasks and streamline workflows. 

“They’re asking me things like: How can you come in and do some type of operational infrastructure?” Augustus said. “They’re wanting to know: What AI can you adopt or put into place to make this workflow more efficient?” 

And they’re willing to pay more for that. Jobs that three years ago may have been $70,000 to $80,000 are now six figure roles, she said, though hiring managers may be looking for one or two admins to do more strategic roles, where before it may have been four or five positions.

In that landscape, there is no choice but to adapt, said Adams, who encourages women to find free or subsidized training opportunities, even when their companies won’t support them. After 30 years in the field, she now considers herself an “AI early adopter” who now can’t imagine doing her work without ChatGPT open on her computer. 

Finally, this assistant has an assistant, she said. His name is Chatty.

The first mural was on Harrison Avenue. A group of neighbors in Westwood wanted it painted. The community council said no. So, the neighbors did what people do when institutions refuse to move with them: they organized, incorporated, and did it themselves.

That mural became the founding moment of Westwood Works. It also became a template.

“They said, well, what do we need to do to become an official group?” said Stephanie Collins, who now leads the organization. “And they went through those steps to make that happen.”

What those neighbors understood, perhaps before they had language for it, was that the act of making something visible in a place is also an act of claiming it. A mural is not just art. It is a declaration that someone still lives here, still cares, still intends to stay.

That same instinct is driving neighborhood organizations across Cincinnati, from Camp Washington to Lower Price Hill, from Westwood to Northside. Artists, organizers, and residents are building survival infrastructure, the overlapping systems of trust, ownership, and cultural belonging that determine whether communities survive development pressure intact.

The question is no longer whether investment is coming to these neighborhoods. It is. The question is whether the people who built them will still be there when it arrives.

In Price Hill, that question lives in the story of a vacant lot on Considine Avenue that sat empty for thirty years while the neighborhood moved around it. It lives in a homesteading program that turns neglected houses into owned homes rather than speculative assets. It lives in the phrase Greg Robinson of Price Hill Will carries from post-Katrina New Orleans: you tried to bury us, but you did not know we were seeds.

Across the city, neighborhoods with different histories and resources are arriving at similar conclusions about what it takes to hold a community together when outside pressure mounts.

The answer almost always begins with the same thing. People who know each other’s names.

Boris Oicherman can usually be found at Swell Art Café in Camp Washington on Wednesday evenings.

Neighbors stop by to talk through funding ideas, community projects, art, politics, whatever surfaces. Some arrive with fully formed plans. Others come simply to be in the room.

“Making myself available is part of building community,” said Oicherman, executive director of Wave Pool, a Camp Washington arts organization that blends exhibitions, artist support, and community-centered programming.

A few nights later, that philosophy was visible across Wave Pool itself.

During Welcome Editions, a collaborative installation bringing internationally recognized artists together with refugee and immigrant artisans in Cincinnati, community members wandered in and out of conversations about the work hanging on the walls, neighborhood change, local politics, and whatever emotions the pieces happened to pull out of them that night.

The exhibition functioned as more than an opening. It became a temporary gathering place.

Wave Pool describes itself as a contemporary art fulfillment center, language that signals something deliberate. During the pandemic, the organization distributed food. Previous work included immigrant and refugee programming, public health collaborations, and community workshops.

“The byproduct is the artwork,” Oicherman said. “The ecosystem is the real thing.”

That ecosystem includes affordable studio space, employment pipelines, professional mentorship, and increasingly, conversations around cultural land ownership. Wave Pool has begun exploring land trust models designed to take property off the speculative market before rising values displace the artists and residents who shaped the neighborhood in the first place.

“The only way to beat market forces,” Oicherman said, “is to take land off the market.”

Camp Washington, long industrialized and overlooked, now sits in the path of significant development pressure tied to the Mill Creek corridor.

Daphney Thomas has spent decades thinking about what makes a neighborhood legible to the people who live inside it.

Thomas leads the National Commission for Black Arts & Entertainment, a Cincinnati organization focused on cultural programming, community engagement, and creative collaboration. She describes artists not primarily as makers of objects but as facilitators of something harder to name gathering, trust, and the slow reconstruction of belonging in communities that have learned not to expect it.

“Art is like leaving the porch light on,” she said.

The metaphor earned its place. A porch light signals presence. Safety. Someone still home. In neighborhoods shaped by decades of disinvestment, redlining, and broken institutional promises, that signal is not decorative. It is structural.

Thomas returned repeatedly to the idea that art creates openings for people to see one another differently. Not because it saves neighborhoods, but because it generates the conditions under which people stay in the same room long enough to rebuild trust.

“People want to feel needed where they live,” she said.

That need, she argues, is consistently underestimated in development models built around attracting outside capital. Economic growth does not automatically produce emotional investment.

“It’s not that these communities are empty,” Thomas said. “People have always been doing the work.”

Brookings Institution fellow Tracy Hadden Loh seconds that. Loh studies equitable development, housing, and neighborhood investment for the Washington, D.C.-based public policy research organization.

Loh did not approach Cincinnati as an abstract policy exercise. “I love Cincinnati,” she said. Last year, she toured the Mill Creek corridor with local leaders and the Port Authority, studying how infrastructure investment, neighborhood identity, and displacement pressures are colliding across the region.

The research points to something Cincinnati’s neighborhood leaders already seem to understand intuitively: neighborhoods do not survive development pressure through single transformative investments alone. They survive through overlapping systems of trust, ownership, local organizations, and community connection built long before outside pressure arrives.

In a Brookings study examining neighborhoods between 2000 and 2015, researchers identified 193 communities across the United States that significantly reduced poverty without displacing longtime residents. Those neighborhoods consistently shared several traits, including strong community-based organizations, higher rates of homeownership, lower vacancy rates, self-employment, and local economic growth.

“There’s this misconception that communities don’t want investment,” Loh said. “They do. They just want to still be included in the choices.” That distinction, between investment that happens to a community and investment that happens with one, is where many development models break down. Loh has seen it repeatedly: award-winning plans sitting on shelves, aesthetic interventions applied to structural problems, residents consulted only after major decisions had already been made.

In Lower Price Hill, the Community Matters staff plus many committed stakeholders including the board, donors, and neighbors, have built an organization around refusing that division.

Community Matters traces its roots to the 1970s, when neighbors began organizing around educational inequities. That commitment to staying in place has never changed. Staff know neighbors by name. They show up at community gardens, laundromats, meetings, and conversations that never become agenda items.

“We reject the idea that neighbors or the neighborhood are problems to be fixed,” said chief advancement officer Patty Lee. “We see our neighbors as people with ideas, talents, histories, relationships, and a real stake in the future of Lower Price Hill.”

When a grocery store on Eighth Street closed, Community Matters did not decide what the neighborhood needed. It asked residents what they wanted the space to become. What followed were conversations not only about food access, but ownership, affordability, and long-term stability.

The question itself became collective property.

Outerspace, a community hub on State Avenue operated by Community Matters, began as a space for collaborative art projects and evolved into something harder to categorize. A coffee house. A little free library. A place to gather.

“Art is still central,” Lee said. “But the space now also supports civic engagement, youth leadership, neighborhood meetings, workshops, and informal connection.”

What surprised her was not that neighbors stepped into leadership once given space. It was what became possible after they did.

In Westwood, the logic of the first mural has compounded over decades.

Westwood Works now runs more than 45 community events per year. It administers a mini-grant program distributing up to $15,000 annually to neighbor-led projects. It acquired the Westwood Theater, an 11,000-square-foot art deco building that closed in 1996 and sat vacant for decades, with plans to convert it into an arts and cultural center at the heart of the Town Hall business district.

Second Saturdays, the organization’s flagship summer series, draws more than 20,000 people from across the region. The first public Pride event on Cincinnati’s West Side began there.

Collins describes the organization’s three pillars as people, place, and purpose.

“You see their eyes light up,” she said. “People feel the sense of community.” Some of them move there.

Collins is clear that none of this happened because someone from outside decided Westwood deserved it. “Neighborhoods don’t get better, they’re not thriving, they’re not vibrant, they’re not diverse and inclusive. They’re none of those things without their citizens getting involved,” she said. “No one’s coming to save you.”

What connects these neighborhoods is not geography or demographics. Price Hill, Camp Washington, Lower Price Hill, Westwood, and Northside each carry distinct histories and face different pressures.

What connects them is the sequence. Community first. Infrastructure second.

The organizations working inside these neighborhoods understood before researchers confirmed it that economic investment alone does not stabilize a place. What stabilizes a place is the web of relationships that gives residents reason to stay, reason to fight, and reason to believe the neighborhood’s future belongs to them.

In Westwood, that web began with a mural someone said no to. In Lower Price Hill, it lives in sticky notes on vacant storefronts. In Camp Washington, it shows up on Wednesday evenings around a table at a cafe.

“The last remaining form of trust,” Loh said, “is physical proximity. You can trust what you can see with your own eyes.”

Inside Cincinnati’s resilient neighborhoods, that trust is being built through presence. Through organizations that stay. Through residents who keep showing up even when the work is slow, the resources are thin, and the outside world has already decided what the neighborhood is.

Although the mural on Harrison Avenue has since been painted over by new building owners, the impetus for Westwood community organizing by a mural that brought the neighborhood together to say yes is now neighborhood history.

The Resilient Neighborhoods series is made possible with support from a coalition of partners including The Port of Cincinnati, Warsaw Federal Bank, and the Common Good Alliance. Sustained Resilient Neighborhoods coverage will report on community-building in City of Cincinnati and Hamilton County neighborhoods spreading good ideas across the region.

Long before the American Revolution, a hidden community thrived in the Louisiana swamps. The residents were Filipino sailors who escaped servitude aboard Spanish galleons to find a hard-won freedom in the New World. They are the earliest known Asian-American community in North America.

Local writer Jay B. Kalagayan and illustrator Feriowind recently published St. Malo: First Filipinos in North America, a graphic comic series focusing on the untold history of this Filipino settlement. It is a blend of historical fiction and horror.

In their retelling, the sanctuary of the bayou is corrupted by dark superstitions and vengeful spirits carried across the Pacific. What began as a quest for liberty becomes a fight for survival against “dark things” hunting for blood.

We recently caught up with Kalagayan, who has adopted a mission to center Asian Pacific American narratives that have long been sidelined.

Here’s what he shared with us:

1) How did you first hear about St. Malo and why did you want to write about it?

I first heard about St. Malo at a comic con. An attendee told me about the first Asian settlement in North America, and it blew my mind. The fact that there were Filipinos building a stilt village outside of New Orleans before the Declaration of Independence—before there even was a United States—just floored me.

At this stage in my life, I’m really looking for a creative spark that meets my heritage. As a Filipino-American, I feel a real kinship with these people who lived on the lake, making a life and surviving in “the land of the free.” 

2) Why graphic novels?

I’ve been a comic book collector since I was 9. My first was Avengers #210, “Wrath of the Weatherman,” and I’ve found solace in panel-to-panel storytelling ever since. There’s something about it that transcends language, movies or TV. It’s a medium where you control time—you can slow things down or speed them up just by how you engage with the page. It’s the best way I know to put a spotlight on hidden history.

3) What fuels your passion?

My daughters. They inspired me to seek out more diverse entertainment for them, and I also wanted to contribute something myself. That’s why I created the MeSseD sewer science fiction series. It features a strong lead who is a woman and Asian. Now, when I take my girls to the comic shop or the bookstore, they see someone who looks like them on the shelves.

4) Do you have a guiding principle when it comes to your graphic novels?

At Creative Mussel [Kalagayan’s indie publishing company], we live by the “Three Es.” First is Entertainment. That’s the job. If we do that right and show the joy in the story, it leads to Education. That might mean wondering what happens after you flush (like in MeSseD) or exploring identity through hidden history (like St. Malo or Filipino Assassin). If the stars align and we really connect with the reader, we hit that third E: Enlightenment.

5) If you were tossing a coin into the Tyler Davidson Fountain regarding storytelling, what would your wish be?

I’d wish for our stories to provide a window into a world different from the reader’s own, while still feeling empathetic. And for the readers who really connect with the work, I hope those windows eventually become doors.

Learn more about Kalagayan’s journey to St. Malo on his blog, or purchase the graphic comic here.

For Donna Zaring, the next step for social enterprise in the Midwest is not another program or accelerator. It is a shared table.

Flywheel Social Enterprise Hub is preparing to launch Impact Catalyst Midwest, a new convening designed to bring together founders, funders, and community leaders working at the intersection of purpose and profit.

The event represents a broader evolution for Flywheel, which has spent the past 15 years supporting social enterprises through consulting, ecosystem building, and its signature accelerator program.

“We’re a catalyst for social enterprise and social impact,” said Donna Zaring, executive director of Flywheel Social Enterprise Hub.

That work began in the early days of the social enterprise movement, when models like TOMS Shoes, Patagonia’s evolving corporate responsibility approach, and the rise of B Corps were beginning to reshape how businesses thought about impact. Five years into Flywheel’s early development, the organization launched its accelerator program, which remains its core offering today.

The nine-week program provides founders with support, structure, and funding to help launch and scale purpose-driven ventures.

“Generally speaking, we only work with founders that are addressing issues that impact our region too,” Zaring said. “The North Star is that you have to be purpose driven.”

A track record built on social enterprise outcomes

Over time, Flywheel has become a key part of Greater Cincinnati’s social impact ecosystem.

Zaring said 67 startups have gone through its accelerator program, with 80 percent still operating today. Collectively, those ventures have helped create nearly 700 jobs and generated more than $9 million in follow-on investment.

Flywheel has also supported organizations that have become familiar names in the region, including La Soupe, Recycling & Reuse Hub, and Last Mile Food Rescue, along with emerging ventures such as Greenway Innovations in Florence and Sew Valley in the West End.

For Zaring, those outcomes challenge the idea that mission-driven organizations must sacrifice growth or sustainability in order to create impact.

“I think it’s proof that there is no trade off,” she said. “Just because you’re doing business for good doesn’t mean there’s a tradeoff of the business actually doing well.”

Why Impact Catalyst Midwest is launching now

The idea for Impact Catalyst Midwest emerged from what Zaring described as a gap in regional coordination within the social impact space.

While Cincinnati and other Midwest cities have active organizations working in social enterprise, she said those efforts are often fragmented and disconnected from one another. “There’s a lot of little groups that are doing things around the region,” Zaring said.

She also pointed to differences in how social enterprise is understood across regions, noting that coastal markets and parts of Europe have more established frameworks for double bottom line investing and purpose-driven business.

“In Europe or in California, I don’t even have to explain what the double bottom line is,” she said. “There’s a ton of investment that goes into these enterprises, but it’s not as prevalent in the Midwest.”

For Zaring, that gap represents an opportunity rather than a limitation.

“We’re kind of at an inflection point where I think there’s a desire for people to return to community,” she said. “We’re saying social enterprise is a wonderful solution for tackling some of these issues in a way that is sustainable.”

Building a Midwest ecosystem for impact

Impact Catalyst Midwest is designed to move beyond conversation and into coordination.

The event will bring together national and regional voices, including leaders working in impact investing, community development, and social entrepreneurship. Programming will include panels, workshops, and a working session focused on envisioning what a more connected Midwest social impact ecosystem could look like.

Zaring said the goal is not just discussion, but alignment.

“People were saying, gosh, we’re small, we’re doing this really good work, but we don’t necessarily know what everyone else is doing,” she said. “It feels like if we pulled together, we might be able to help each other out.”

For Flywheel, Impact Catalyst Midwest is not intended to function like a traditional conference circuit stop. The speaker lineup and programming were selected to expose attendees to models already shaping social impact economies nationally while translating those ideas into practical action for the Midwest.

Leading the day’s keynote programming is Jenna Nicholas, CEO of Lightpost Capital, Co-Founder and CEO of Impact Experience, and former Forbes 30 Under 30 Social Entrepreneur whose work focuses on aligning investment with long-term community outcomes. Her keynote will challenge attendees to think differently about how capital can drive systems-level change rather than isolated projects.

Also joining the program is Michael O’Bryan, Founder & CEO of Human Nature and Director of The Wealth + Work Futures Lab, whose work centers on workforce innovation and helping communities connect economic development with human potential. His session will explore how collaboration, design, and investment can create more resilient regional economies.

Returning to Cincinnati is Suzanne Smith, who originally helped create Flywheel’s vision more than 15 years ago.

“We’re actually bringing back the original creator of Flywheel,” Zaring said. “We’re having a full circle moment with her coming back.”

Zaring said Smith’s perspective will help frame how the social enterprise movement has evolved since Flywheel’s founding and what opportunities may be emerging next.

“What’s so cool is she’s doing so much in the space,” Zaring said. “I’m excited to hear from her on where this space has evolved over the last 15 years.”

Beyond the keynotes, the summit agenda expands into workshops and breakout sessions designed around the mechanics of growing a stronger impact economy.

One session, “From Vision to Action: Advancing Regional Priorities in the Midwest,” brings together regional leaders including Moira Weir, Robert Killins Jr., John Yung, and Brendon Cull to discuss how public, private, and philanthropic sectors can align around shared priorities.

Sessions such as “Funder Engagement 101” and “Intro to Impact Investing” focus more directly on founders and investors, offering practical guidance on fundraising, due diligence, and how impact capital is structured and deployed.

Another breakout, “Capital and Community: Investing in Place for Lasting Impact,” mirrors themes Zaring emphasized throughout the interview and brings together leaders in real estate, philanthropy, and community development to explore how place-based investment can create both financial return and stronger local outcomes.

The day also includes sessions on youth investment, corporate social impact strategy, and a founder-focused conversation highlighting social enterprises emerging across the region.

Place-based thinking and regional ownership

A key theme throughout the event is place-based investment, or the idea that social impact work should be grounded in the communities it is meant to serve.

Zaring said that focus has shaped Flywheel’s approach from the beginning, including its selection of accelerator participants.

“It’s not just real estate,” she said. “It’s how are you thinking about who’s participating in the community and who has a stake in the outcomes.”

She added that building strong local ownership is essential for long-term impact. “If you really want lasting change, you need people that have ownership and a stake in it,” Zaring said.

That philosophy also extends to the next generation of entrepreneurs, many of whom are increasingly interested in building ventures that combine purpose with business sustainability.

“They want to be a part of their future,” she said. “It’s our responsibility as a community to give them a launching pad to do that.”

Impact Catalyst Midwest is ultimately about participation. Zaring said the goal is to bring together people who are ready to engage in shaping the future of the region’s social impact ecosystem.

“If you have a sense for purpose and you believe in innovation and you’re excited about ideas and working with other people, join us,” she said. “There’s infinite possibilities for what we can do.”

What: Flywheel Impact Catalyst Midwest
When: Tuesday, June 23, 2026, from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Where: Memorial Hall, Cincinnati
Who should attend: Social entrepreneurs, nonprofit leaders, investors, community organizations, and impact-focused professionals
More: For details and to register for Impact Catalyst Midwest, visit here.

Cincinnati’s first-ring suburbs face unique challenges. Changing demographics, economic stability, and issues regarding resources and security are common threads among these jurisdictions. 

The ways the 49 Hamilton County cities, villages, townships, and municipal corporations not only adjust but thrive is the focus of this series, First Suburbs—Beyond Borders. The series explores the diversity and ingenuity of these longstanding suburban communities, highlighting issues that demand collective thought and action to galvanize their revitalization.

Two years ago, a community fixture that had done business in the heart of suburban Sharonville for 90 years closed shop, an event that could have aggravated a long-term decline of that city’s downtown business district.

Instead, city leaders acted quickly to buy the property, and what could have languished as an empty shell has become a linchpin of comprehensive plan to reimagine Sharonville’s core.

Cliff Hardware was Sharonville’s oldest business, a family-owned enterprise that served as an anchor of the city’s “downtown.” In business for nine decades, it had been owned by Eli Wickemeier’s family for 54 of those years. But it was getting tougher for an independent hardware business to make it. “It’s just slowly declining,” Wickemeier told Soapbox in 2024. “I don’t think there’s any way of surviving another 10 or 20 years.” He put the business and the property on the market.

The store holds down a sizable footprint in Sharonville’s downtown district.  If it had been sold to a private, commercial developer, it could have become a parking lot, an uber-convenience store like a Wawa, or a 16-bay gas station. None of those kinds of developments would have furthered the city’s vision of a small-scale, walkable business district that it had rebranded as “The Loop.”    

Sharonville, through its not-for-profit community development corporation, bought the property, giving the community control over its destiny. Two years later, the vision is coming into focus. The Cliff Hardware property is expected to be the site of market-rate apartments, which will bring residents back into The Loop, helping to support the small businesses already there and those expected to locate.   

About 200 to 225 apartments are planned, said Economic Development Director David McCandless. The housing and new residents will help sustain small, retail businesses. “We want to increase walkability and density and hopefully create a self-fulfilling cycle of new retail being supported by additional residents,” McCandless said.

Building housing on the Cliff Hardware site is one piece of a much larger plan to create a walkable, mixed-use district in Sharonville’s old downtown. The half-mile long district is bounded by two one-way streets, Reading Road heading south and Main Street going north. The two one-way streets, connected by Sharon Road and Creek Road, create a walkable loop until they converge three blocks to the north at Reading Road. Hence the branding of this budding neighborhood as The Loop.

Sharonville is a sprawling community of 14,000 residents bisected from east to west by Interstate 275 and from north to south by I-75 and U.S. 42. During the workday, its population swells to more than 35,000, as it is home to major employers like the Ford plant and the Princeton school district, as well as the Sharonville Convention Center, hotels, and dozens of restaurants.

City planners want to create a downtown that instills a sense of community identity and is a destination for residents and others. Some older communities already have Main Street-style business districts that were established early in the 20^th century. Sharonville, whose expansion as a city dates to the 1960s, does not. Its downtown Loop plan aims to create one by inviting small businesses, pedestrian-friendly development, and slowing traffic, among other goals.

The city has invested in improvements to a portion of the district next to the hardware store site that it calls Depot Square. They include an artistically designed splash pad, a stage, and seating. A building that resembles an old train depot gives the spot its name. AlReddy Café, a Sharonville eatery for 20 years is open for coffee, breakfast, lunch, dinner on the weekends, and live music on Friday nights. The city has made other streetscape improvements to Depot Square, and it’s become a site for community gatherings, holiday events, and live music.

The city is now looking beyond Depot Square and has been active in acquiring more than a dozen properties around The Loop that were vacant or blighted. Some have been demolished and more are slated to be torn down.

“If you want to do something transformative, let’s look to a larger scale,” McCandless said. “It’s more catalytic at scale.”

The scope of the project will cost about $75 million. McCandless said $50 million of that will come from private investment, and about $25 million from public dollars. A portion of the public investment will come from grants and a tax increment financing fund.  The city has established a capital fund for such big projects, thanks largely to the income tax from the 20,000 people who work there but live elsewhere.

The plan for new apartments, as well as the demolitions of aging buildings have drawn reactions from Sharonville residents. With 200 new housing units, “Where will people park?” one resident asked on the city’s social media channel. The city says parking space will not decrease and some of the acquired properties may be used for additional parking.

Another asked if the housing would be “projects” or Section 8, although the city has clearly said the housing will be market-rate. (The average rent for an apartment in suburban Hamilton County is about $1,200 a month).

Others have lamented the loss of old buildings in The Loop. But others welcome the new developments. “Change is needed; change is good,” wrote one commentator. “As someone whose family has lived in downtown Sharonville since the 1950’s, it is time to bring it up.”

That is the plan, as the city, guided by its 2030 Comprehensive Plan and a vision for a new downtown, moves forward.

The First Suburbs—Beyond Borders series is made possible with support from a coalition of stakeholders including the Murray & Agnes Seasongood Good Government Foundation: The Seasongood Foundation is devoted to the cause of good local government; Hamilton County Planning Partnership; plus First Suburbs Consortium of Southwest Ohio, an association of elected and appointed officials representing older suburban communities in Hamilton County, Ohio.

Masthead photo: Sharonville’s Depot Square in 2022. The city has recently invested in new improvements to a portion of this district next to the hardware store site. Photo Gary Kessler.

Long before Cincinnati became known for its booming arts scene and nationally recognized institutions, the May Festival was already bringing people together beneath the towering beauty of choral performance. For more than a century and a half, the Cincinnati May Festival has been woven into the cultural fabric of Cincinnati, carrying with it generations of voices, memories, and moments that have connected this city through music. In many ways, it has always represented community, tradition and belonging.

But in 2026, the Festival is taking an intentional step toward something even deeper.

This year’s introduction of the Dîner en Fleur event signaled not just the launch of a new event, but the continuation of a larger conversation about accessibility, inclusion, and what it truly means for art to belong to the people. Held on May 15 in the heart of Washington Park, the free public gathering transformed the space into a living celebration of springtime, fellowship, and creativity ahead of opening night of the 2026 May Festival.

Curated by Grammy-winning soprano and 2026 Festival Director Julia Bullock, Dîner en Fleur invited Cincinnatians from every walk of life to gather outdoors for an elegant yet welcoming communal picnic experience before making their way across the street to Music Hall for the Festival’s opening night performance.

Families spread blankets across the lawn. Friends arrived carrying baskets filled with homemade meals. Couples dressed in spring-inspired colors and floral prints laughed beneath the evening sky as live music drifted through the park. Children danced between picnic tables while strangers became neighbors for the night. The atmosphere carried the feeling of old-world festival traditions blended seamlessly with the creative energy that defines modern Cincinnati.

And perhaps that was the point.

Too often, institutions rooted in classical music can feel intimidating or inaccessible to communities who may not see themselves reflected within those spaces. Dîner en Fleur challenged that notion completely. There were no barriers to entry. No expectation of status or familiarity with opera and orchestral performance. Instead, there was an open invitation to simply come as you are and experience the joy of gathering together around art.

“The May Festival this year will offer an amazing variety of music,” shared Jason Alexander Holmes, the Festival’s Associate Director of Choruses. “I can’t even really say what I would most recommend seeing because all of them are great. Whenever I am asked that question, I just have to explain them all!”

That excitement could be felt throughout the evening.

Before the official concert began, Washington Park buzzed with live entertainment, family-friendly activities, and opportunities for community engagement. One of the event’s standout experiences came through a partnership with the Cincinnati Art Museum, which hosted a flower crown-making station that quickly became a favorite attraction for guests of all ages. Vibrant blooms and handmade floral pieces added color and whimsy to an already visually stunning evening.

For those who didn’t bring their own meals, the event still offered ways to participate fully. Local food vendors and food trucks lined the park, while attendees also had the option to pre-order curated picnic baskets through Findlay Market for pickup during the festivities. The result was a gathering that felt both elevated and deeply grounded in local community partnership.

As the sun began to set, crowds transitioned from the park into Music Hall for the Festival’s opening performance, “An Eclectic Opening Night,” featuring Bullock alongside the May Festival Chorus, the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, and an acclaimed roster of soloists.

Bullock’s presence this season has become one of the most exciting artistic collaborations Cincinnati has seen in years. Internationally celebrated for her emotional depth, innovative storytelling, and commitment to expanding how audiences experience classical music, she has brought a fresh perspective to one of the city’s oldest cultural institutions. Her leadership feels intent in honoring tradition yet refuses to let it be stagnant.

One of the weekend’s most anticipated moments arrived on Sunday, May 17, with Bullock’s recital, “A Dream Deferred — Langston Hughes in Song,” at Memorial Hall. The intimate performance explored the poetry and enduring cultural impact of Langston Hughes through music inspired by his writing.

“As I learned more about its history while working on this festival and as I learned more of the May Festival,” said Bullock. “What struck me the most is that this is not just a festival that is committed to music, nor is it a festival just committed to choral singing. It’s a festival committed to cultural exchange…and that’s a very powerful thing!”

That sentiment speaks directly to why this year’s Festival feels especially important.

At a time when communities across the country continue searching for authentic spaces of connection, the 2026 May Festival offered a reminder that the arts still have the power to unite people across backgrounds, generations and experiences. Dîner en Fleur was a pre-concert gathering which also served as a statement about what cultural institutions can become when they intentionally open their doors wider.

Through music, food, poetry, visual art and shared experience, Cincinnati was reminded this past weekend that culture is not something reserved for a select few. It belongs to the city itself. To the families sitting in the grass. To the children making flower crowns. To the longtime patrons of the symphony and new attendees discovering the Festival for the very first time.

Perhaps this is the true beauty of the May Festival’s evolution. After 150 years, it is still finding new ways to bring people together.

There’s more May Festival to experience this week. Tickets for all performances here.