Show notes:
Nudge by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein
MassDevelopment's Transformative Development Initiative (TDI)
CitySeed (New Haven)
Edited Transcript
Seth Zeren: Hello and welcome to The New School for City Builders. I’m your host, Seth Zeren, a recovering city planner and neighborhood developer based in Providence, Rhode Island. In this podcast, we bring together insightful thinkers, creative doers, and wise teachers to reimagine how we train city builders — the architects, engineers, developers, planners, managers, and civic leaders who run our cities and towns. Because our cities and towns are only as good as the people who run them. If we want to change how they work, we need a new school for city builders.
Joining me today is Anne Haynes, a city builder who has worked in architecture, planning, real estate, and economic development — from New York to Connecticut, Massachusetts, California, and Texas, in cities big and small, in fast markets and stalled markets. Anne, welcome to the show.
Anne Haynes: Thanks, it’s a pleasure to be here. Always fun to talk with you, Seth.
Seth: I’m excited to hear what you’re working on now. You and I have known each other for more than ten years — we first connected when I was in Massachusetts, working for a developer after leaving the planning side of things and trying to figure out how I wanted to grow my career. You were launching a really interesting initiative in Massachusetts called the Transformative Development Initiative, or TDI, through MassDevelopment — a new way of thinking about economic development in places like the older “Gateway Cities,” the legacy industrial cities that have struggled economically. Tell us what TDI was, what it is now, and how the idea originated.
Anne: I’m thrilled the program still exists — it’s gone through several cycles, and it’s been great to come back to Massachusetts and see it thriving. The genesis was twofold. On the personal side, I’d come to MIT Sloan for an MBA with an idea about building a connected network of hyper-local economic development coordination, based on my experience leading an economic development agency in New Haven — where Seth and I actually overlapped. The core insight was that small cities don’t have enough capacity on their own to move the needle on community and economic development, let alone real estate. So the question was: could cities coordinate instead of compete?
That was the thesis behind my time at Sloan, and I was looking for a job where I could work across multiple cities. At the same time, there was a piece of public policy moving through the ranks — the Transformative Development Act for Gateway Cities — under Governor Deval Patrick, with Greg Bialecki and Marty Jones, the CEO of MassDevelopment, asking how the state could make investments in Gateway Cities that did double duty: not just funding activity, but catalyzing it.
As I was leaving Sloan, that opportunity came together. The state had funding to allocate toward a pilot based on the act. Originally the idea was simply to put more real estate development dollars into these cities. But from my experience in New Haven, I knew you had to start from the inside out — build these cities’ capacity to actually use real estate investment well, not just receive it.
I was at the table as the act was being finalized, and once it passed, I worked with the board and Marty Jones — a great leader who understood the need to build an engine, not just make investments — to convince MassDevelopment to try something new for the organization. They’d always done real estate technical assistance and funded important community infrastructure, but they’d never worked from the municipality’s point of view, as a true partner. That’s how we built the program.
It’s been eleven years now. It turns out cities love it, because you’re bringing capacity to the table alongside investment dollars, and you’re working with sector partnerships that can keep things moving after the program ends.
Seth: Right — MassDevelopment is this big state funder. Their instinct is to write checks, make grants and loans, invest in individual projects. That’s how they normally operate.
Anne: Right, like a big bank. But here’s the interesting byproduct: TDI actually became a pipeline generator for additional investment opportunities. In a way, it cultivated the field to do the work that was MassDevelopment’s core business in the first place.
Seth: So instead of just finding projects to write checks for, you’re putting people with real skills into these towns — the TDI Fellows. I actually applied for a TDI Fellow job once — that’s how I first met you.
Anne: You would’ve been great!
Seth: They gave me a counteroffer at my job and I didn’t end up coming over. How it goes. But the idea is putting a person on the ground in the community, with institutional support from your office, training, and a fair amount of independence — they’re not walking in with a fixed portfolio of responsibilities. That frees them up to go out, prospect, make connections, figure things out — and ultimately generate business for the bank, since they’re creating projects MassDevelopment can later finance.
Anne: And for other local banks too — it’s about building that bridge. Especially in a city that’s economically stalled, frozen — not necessarily out of negative groupthink, but a kind of negative self-perception. The fellow came in as a disruptor, but a constructive one. The fellow also became “Switzerland” — a neutral party people needed in order to reconnect the wiring.
Seth: Right, because they had no history with anyone — no baggage of “we tried this before and it didn’t work” or interpersonal friction that builds up in a lot of communities. They could come in fresh. I remember us talking about the importance of being entrepreneurial within the public sector — not just checking boxes and following procedure, but actually going out, hunting for opportunities, setting up coffees, walkthroughs, making connections. A funder usually thinks in terms of writing checks for projects. But if the surrounding ecosystem — city government, private sector, supporting institutions, consultants — isn’t healthy, you won’t get deals in the first place.
Anne: Exactly. And investing in the ecosystem is less tangible — there’s no clean “I made a $10 million loan and collected interest” story. But a functional ecosystem is what generates more loans down the road. Part of it is shifting the zeitgeist of a place, injecting some positive energy that gets reinforced as people participate and move things forward. It has an almost ephemeral quality, but the energy in these cities really did shift.
Seth: You had to get the water moving again. Tell me about the kinds of people who became TDI Fellows — their backgrounds, the skills they brought, and how you developed their expertise in these roles.
Anne: In the first year — and you were part of this too, Seth — we looked for the best and brightest: creative, entrepreneurial, willing to take risks, willing to throw themselves into a place deliberately not their own. They were chosen by us together with the local partnerships, but intentionally weren’t from those cities. Character came first, but we also wanted mid-career people — enough background in planning, economic development, law, or real estate to have two or three years of relevant exposure, but not so far along in their careers that they needed a conventional next step. We wanted builders — people who saw this as a chance to create something from scratch.
Each city had its own needs, but it wasn’t a precise matching exercise — every city needed some real estate development capacity, some business development capacity, some planning support. So at the cohort level we tried to cover that range of experience, but at the individual level it was more about finding the right chemistry between the fellow and the town’s partnership.
It was designed for people roughly ten years out of school who wanted broader, landscape-level exposure rather than a siloed role within one organization — and we talked about it from the start as a professional skills accelerator. In three or four years, you’d get more experience than in any single job. It wasn’t really training or education in the traditional sense — it was about accelerating your effectiveness as a city builder.
Seth: So you’re marrying two sets of interests — the fellow doesn’t get paid a ton, but gets an incredible, fast-moving learning opportunity, thrown into the friction points of the system with a lot of latitude to act. And the cities get a kind of extra capacity they otherwise couldn’t have. One thing I always wonder, though — if this is so valuable, why can’t a municipality just create the position itself?
Anne: A couple of reasons — maybe eight. Most cities couldn’t attract this kind of talent, whether for budgetary reasons or cost-of-living mismatches, and they didn’t have the political room to add a position like this. On top of that, I don’t think cities really knew what kind of ombudsperson they needed on the ground. I also don’t think a fellow would have been as effective working directly for the city, because a city is a regulatory, political entity — it can’t be neutral Switzerland. Trust had to be built fast, and that’s much easier from outside city government. Our goal was to demonstrate enough value that cities might eventually create a permanent position — but likely through a structure outside the city itself.
Seth: That makes sense. So you recruit these mid-career people with real backgrounds, and then place them in cities on their own — almost like a wilderness survival exercise, but with institutional backup. I toured your fellows around Providence a few times to show them our work. What kind of ongoing training and support did you provide?
Anne: We looked at a number of fellowship models while building the program. In my first three years, I didn’t have the budget to hire help, so it was lean — we took trips together, spent real time building a culture around this very specific role. Beyond being their boss, I was more of a coach: an ideating partner, a connector to other resources within the organization or partner state agencies, someone trying to sense when they needed outside help — at which point we’d bring in a technical assistance provider or consultant.
It was highly individualized, and that worked well when we had three fellows. Once we had ten, it got harder. By the time I left, after about four and a half years, there was more internal infrastructure to support fellows, and as the program grew under my successor, that hyper-personal coaching model became even harder to sustain — though it’s still essentially what the role needs.
One of the best training practices we used was improv training — full-day workshops with a trainer I’d met through MIT Sloan’s leadership program. It does two things: it builds the confidence to be present and adaptable, which matters enormously, and the underlying mindset builds trust quickly with the people you’re working with, because you can’t just give a yes-or-no answer. It’s the “yes, and” muscle.
Seth: Yes — the combination of “yes, and” plus really listening and building on what other people offer, instead of feeling threatened by it or feeling you need to find sixteen things wrong with it. That’s fantastic.
Anne: It was very successful. Now that I teach at BU — I taught in the city planning program before — I’ve brought touches of improv training into the classroom, because in any externally facing role, these are critical skills. It’s real-world, on-the-ground training, and I think any city builder needs at least one stretch in their career that gives them that landscape view. For me, that was leaving twelve years of architectural practice to work inside a mayor’s office as a building-typology expert — and that exposure to how a city actually functions unlocked the whole picture for me. The Fellows program gave people that same kind of view.
Seth: That’s a perfect transition to the next thing I wanted to ask about — your own path. Part of what I’m doing with these interviews is understanding people’s educational and career paths, both to help others follow in their footsteps and to help us think about how to improve city-building education. So — what skills do city builders actually need?
Anne: They need to understand the system, without necessarily being an expert in any one part of it — in fact, it’s almost better not to be, because over-specializing makes it harder to see how the pieces fit together. That’s partly a skill and partly just lived experience. I jokingly call myself the headless horseman of career moves — I see an opportunity to learn, get curious, and jump in with both feet, often before thinking through the consequences. But you need that entrepreneurial instinct.
A few points in my life taught me the most. One was working for the City of New York — being on the client/city side taught me why decisions get made the way they do, including factors like an official’s reelection or the budget cycle. A lot of developers never learn that context, and without it you don’t really understand the environment you’re trying to operate in.
Seth: I remember as a staff planner in Newton, working on a major zoning reform — a multi-year process in a very meticulous town. I’d made a little Gantt chart with certain months highlighted, and someone asked what those columns were. They were elections — because we were going to pass a legislative item, and the timing mattered. It hadn’t occurred to staff that this was as much a political question as a technical one, and the politics had to be part of the analysis.
Anne: Exactly — you and I are cousins on that front, because I always mark the specific mental-shift periods around elections, or worse, the four months before, when you’re deep into “silly season” and don’t want to be pushing anything serious.
The other formative experience was architecture school — I chose Yale specifically for its building project, because I didn’t just want to design something, I wanted real, experiential knowledge of how things actually get built. And separately, I think the deepest lesson came from launching a nonprofit in New Haven — what became CitySeed, a long-running farmers market organization that’s since become an anchor for food-based entrepreneurship and wealth-building, with policy recommendations that have spread statewide and nationally. It started small — convincing two neighbors, then four, that we needed fresh food in an underused park. Going through the actual motions of an entrepreneurial venture — understanding what builds community and what it takes to create something sustainable — was foundational. I don’t think I could do what I’m doing now without having created something, not just supported other people’s nonprofits and community infrastructure.
Seth: That’s an interesting parallel to the Yale building project. A small number of architecture schools require students to actually build something, and they all should — every architect needs to spend a summer on a construction site, if only to learn that construction workers read plans differently than architects do. Designing a house and then physically building it with your classmates teaches you what’s possible, what’s hard, what’s easy, in a way that’s just not available conceptually. The same is true for community development — you can learn the concepts, you can learn how power moves through a city, but until you actually launch something yourself — even something as modest as organizing your friends for an event — and go through gaining buy-in, navigating bureaucracy, documenting everything, the real skill, which is implementation, doesn’t fully land.
Anne: Exactly — and that organizing dimension is something I think has been lost a bit in the modern urban development profession. We actually used to describe the fellows as “community organizers for economic development.” It really was an organizing role, with all the emotion that comes with it.
Seth: And combined with the improv training, there’s also a sales element — the confidence to walk into a room and ask someone for $50,000. I don’t love that part, though I’ve gotten better at it. A lot of people simply won’t do it, and that’s a real barrier if you want to do this work, public or private. Asking for development financing and asking for farmers-market funding are, fundamentally, the same ask.
Anne: Right — though it’s not just about the numbers. Your relationship to money is different when you’re spending or raising your own dollars versus someone else’s. Starting CitySeed, we had to pool our own money just for basics — begging, borrowing, and stealing for legal advice. When it’s your time and money on the line, priorities get real very quickly.
Seth: That mirrors development — it’s our money, my brother’s money, on the line. If I mess up, Thanksgiving gets awkward. That sharpens your focus; you can’t just say “we’ll take extra time, spend extra money, it’s fine.” You have real obligations. Were any of these political or organizing skills actually taught in school?
Anne: Not really, no — beyond the building project, which was mostly about learning the trade of building and bonding with classmates. Around the same time, in parallel, there was an evolution that became the Yale Urban Design Workshop, which gave students experiential, practice-based work with real community groups and clients. That was critical for connecting what we learned in school to a real feedback loop with the outside world. I was part of the founding group that organized that into a more formal structure. Twenty years on, it’s become much more deliberate — there’s now an annual convening that brings together clinic programs from across the graduate and professional schools, since we were all serving the same clients. Law school talking to architecture school talking to public health — and now there are actual interdisciplinary classes at Yale where students from different schools work together on shared projects. Learning to work across a true cross-sector partnership — not just your own field — is itself a skill that has to be built deliberately.
Seth: Which is exactly what happens the moment you land in the public or private sector — as a planner, you’re suddenly working closely with engineers, fire officials, politicians, none of whom were in your department in school. Same for developers.
Anne: Exactly — and any opportunity that builds that muscle matters, because the language barriers between fields are real.
Seth: Let’s walk through your path. You trained as an architect and practiced as one before this winding road into full-spectrum city building.
Anne: Don’t just call me the headless horseman — call it interesting, one day’s growth at a time.
Seth: The most interesting people usually follow a strange path. So — undergrad in architecture at Virginia, then Yale for your master’s?
Anne: Yes, Virginia for undergrad, Yale for the master’s. One thing I find interesting about your pre-interview questions is they focus on where — but for me, the more interesting axis is when. I’m part of a generation that came in just as the field was shifting toward more urban thinking. The 1960s and ‘70s had plenty of community-development thought, but academia hadn’t caught up structurally — there were urban planning programs, heavily policy-focused, but no real urban design degree programs, and economic development was a class, not a degree.
Architecture, as a siloed field — and as the path career counselors and family pointed me toward, given my skills — made sense. I said I wanted to be an architect at age three; to this day nobody knows where that came from, since I only have one distant relative in the field. But for me it was always about cities — I grew up in the Boston area, my mother taught nursery school in Back Bay, and my earliest memories are of that dense urban environment. Architecture was simply the most direct path to working in cities at the time, and I don’t regret it.
Over my sixteen or so years in school and practice, architecture shifted from being the choreographer of the urban environment toward a much more technical discipline — sustainability, energy performance, the tectonics of buildings. Meanwhile, urban planning, urban development, even landscape architecture absorbed more of that bigger-picture urban role.
Seth: So architecture gave up the “master builder” role to some extent.
Anne: I’d call it further specialization, a product of the times — not abandonment. Though if you compared AIA conference programming from 1985 to today, you’d find far fewer sessions on urban-scale design now.
Seth: That tracks with a broader pattern we’ve noticed — city-building professions used to be far less siloed. An engineer might also do landscape work or architecture; people moved fluidly across scales. Now you often hire an architect essentially to solve code compliance — fit the unit count into the right shape, satisfy building and fire code — which pushes the work toward narrow technical problem-solving. The same has happened in engineering: it’s less “what’s the best solution” and more “does the fire truck fit down the street?”
Anne: Exactly. As architectural training, what I loved was its systems thinking — the way a building, and all its sub-consultants, had to come together to solve something. By the end of my time in practice, I’d get into a bit of trouble for negotiating a design fee but then effectively taking over the client’s role, because my clients often didn’t have the capacity to do their own job. For a public high school I designed in New Haven, I ended up helping schedule the building’s use myself, because I needed that information to plan the spaces and the client couldn’t supply it. So even in this hyper-specialized world, the training itself held up well — it was practice that got harder to specialize within, mostly for financial reasons.
Seth: Historically, architecture as a craft was closer to “master builder” — design and construction management combined, working for a patron expecting real performance. We’ve made the work more complicated since, which has changed how it’s structured. It puts me in mind of architects who become developers — they bring systems thinking and design fluency that a lot of developers lack, while also learning the developer’s skill set. They’re still grounded in reality — making payroll, paying contractors — it’s not an unlimited-budget art museum. But integrating design thinking into development tends to produce genuinely higher-quality work.
Anne: Very much so. And I think architects — more in practice than in school — are taught they’re just one cog in a much bigger wheel, even though they actually have enormous transferable skills; we just don’t speak the language of other fields well enough to demonstrate that. Development is a good example — straight out of school, I tried to get a developer to hire me and couldn’t. But once I got to business school and started CitySeed, I realized how much the fundamental architectural process — iterative design, what we now call “design thinking” — was directly applicable to those other pursuits. It was validating to see how transferable that discipline really was.
Seth: I feel similarly about my development work — a lot of my skill with budgets, how money moves, and space planning (since we’re often our own client) comes from that design background. There’s also the orchestration piece: if you’re leading a project, you’re coordinating a dozen trades and professions, each with its own language, goals, and payment structure. Your job is like conducting an orchestra — making sure everyone plays their part at the right time so the whole thing sounds right. So — what made an architect with design ambitions decide to get an MBA?
Anne: It had always been somewhere in the back of my mind. In architectural practice, you tend to get sorted onto either a management track or a design track, and I’m a designer — I wanted to stay there — but I also loved the management side of getting the best possible design built. After years at the City of New York and running an economic development nonprofit in New Haven, I realized the one language I didn’t speak was finance. I was working with a lot of companies in New Haven and didn’t fully understand the corporate mindset around finance, or what these increasingly multi-geographic companies were actually willing to do for the cities they operated in — I was seeing a growing distance between companies and good corporate citizenship, which is something I’m still wrestling with.
Seth: I see that pattern here too.
Anne: It’s a real problem for most cities. Through the 19th and early 20th centuries, good corporate citizens — family-owned companies rooted in the place they operated — built a lot of our infrastructure, often just out of practical business sense, not even philanthropy. They built worker housing because they didn’t want workers showing up late. We’ve largely lost that anchor.
Seth: And those companies were locally owned and lived where they worked — sponsoring the Little League team, giving to the library — not weighing their charitable giving between Providence, New York, or Paris.
Anne: Exactly. All of those threads came together when I had the chance to take a year and do the Sloan Fellows program — a full-time, one-year program rather than an executive program, since I knew I’d get too absorbed and wouldn’t use a part-time format well. I loved it. It put me with people from every kind of industry — another landscape scan, really. Most of my classmates worked for national governments around the world; I was the only municipal-government person, though there were several people from Singapore — which is basically Providence on steroids, or really a city-state.
Seth: If only Providence had those resources.
Anne: Highly recommend the program, though it isn’t cheap.
Seth: What did you take away from it, and how did the pedagogy differ from architecture school?
Anne: It mostly deepened what I was already doing rather than teaching me brand-new processes — the entrepreneurial or intrapreneurial journey inside a corporation is, structurally, a lot like design thinking; I just hadn’t had that vocabulary before. It was more an infusion of content — how investment actually happens, that kind of thing — than a new pedagogy, since I was already operating fairly entrepreneurially without knowing the term for it.
Seth: If it were today, could you get that content dump from AI instead, or does the cohort experience matter?
Anne: No — the cohort is essential. It wasn’t just case studies, valuable as those were; it was learning through lived experience. You’d learn the theory of system dynamics, but then hear directly from a classmate who’d used system dynamics to solve and build buy-in around a real problem inside a large corporation. Working with 110 people from around the world — only twenty of us American — let me see current events and economic development through a huge range of international lenses simultaneously. I’ve always loved travel, so that part felt almost dreamlike.
Seth: So even though you needed the content and examples to round out your intuition, it wasn’t simply information you could get from a library card — you needed a community of learners, each bringing their own background, teaching and challenging each other, building momentum together. That’s hard to replicate without other people.
Anne: Exactly. Ten years later, some of my closest friends in the world are from that program — partly because, unlike architecture school, where there’s an undercurrent of competition since everyone’s in the same field, this program’s diversity meant we could learn from each other without competing, and people have gone on to start companies together. It was wonderful. But it really was about gaining the vocabulary and systemic understanding I lacked — finance, and things like how intellectual property gets generated and capitalized on for local economic development, how institutional anchors function within their environments. Learning through benchmarking and real examples.
Seth: Fascinating. You’re teaching now too, at BU. What’s your course?
Anne: I teach in the urban planning program at Metropolitan College — the night school — specifically the capstone, traditionally the final class before graduation, meant to bring everything together in a real, practice-based experiential project. This was the first year it ran over a full year instead of a single semester, which is a big improvement — one semester was never enough time to go deep enough for a meaningful learning experience.
Seth: Right — when you’re in school, wrapping a whole project in three months feels tight, but once you’re out in the real world, three months barely gets a project off the ground.
Anne: Exactly — and even a year wasn’t quite enough for true real-world conditions. The students built a community engagement plan; we’d describe the ideal broad version, then say, “we actually have one month — how do we scale this down realistically?” We worked through BU’s Metro Bridge program, which connects students to real community conditions, partnering with East Boston’s Maverick Square, which the whole class fell in love with. Over a year you can build real relationships with organizations, institutions, property owners, and businesses in a commercial district.
It being the first year, we’ll refine the syllabus. One thing I learned from my architecture years: I want at least one quick charrette each semester to keep ideas flowing — fast, even unrelated to the main project site — because over a long stretch, people settle into a pattern, and you need to periodically shake that up.
Seth: When I taught real estate development at BU’s Metropolitan College, it was a short course, and I found I needed to build in multiple learning cycles rather than one big semester-long project — a small project, then a medium one, building up — because students were exposed to a lot of material but hadn’t practiced it enough times to execute it well by the end.
Anne: Exactly what we found. This past semester, I had students start their report’s outline and brainstorming, then go do the actual engagement work over spring break — we’ll move that timing around — and when they came back to the report, they brought fresh perspective from having stepped outside their own thinking. Then they did a quick rewrite, built the final presentation to nail the narrative, then went back to the report once more — and presented twice instead of once, which really helped, since practicing the narrative multiple times pays off. With AI in the mix, written assignments became less central — parts of a report could easily be AI-assisted, and by year’s end students had gotten better at prompting it — but that live, in-person presentation, the act of actually formulating your thoughts out loud, is something I want built into nearly every class: not just discussion, but a practiced two-minute explanation of whatever the topic is. That’s arguably more valuable than writing skills, though both matter.
Seth: One thing I’ve learned over my career is that good ideas matter — bad ideas get implemented and do real harm — but ideas alone are useless if you can’t persuade people. Relationship skills, communication, rhetoric, storytelling are just as critical to being an effective city builder.
Anne: Completely — you have to be a people person, and bring other people out to be people persons too, especially now that we’ve all retreated indoors so much, through digital life and otherwise.
Seth: We don’t talk to each other anymore. This has been great — let’s wrap with a few quick hits. What’s one place people should visit to learn about building and running cities, and what should they take from it?
Anne: An actual place... Honestly, seeing as many places as possible matters, but not just checking boxes — sit in a cafe and actually observe people. I also follow cities on social media to see how they communicate as institutions. My huge crush, and I hope your audience doesn’t all descend on it at once, is Marseille — practically the biggest “Gateway City” there is, and the municipal government there has made real, impressive progress over the last fifteen years.
Seth: So the recommendation is: get on a plane, sit in a cafe in Marseille, and read the city’s social media.
Anne: Well — and actually participate in what the city’s offering, not just observe. I’m genuinely impressed by it.
Seth: Love it. What’s one book you’d recommend?
Anne: Honestly, I’m not as much of a reader as I wish I were, and lately I read a lot of fiction that has nothing to do with cities. But I’m currently listening to Nudge again, and I think it’s excellent — there’s so much human motivation, prompting, and nudging involved in city building that it’s directly relevant. I also love documentaries on urban themes — I used to show them in class. The redevelopment of Cabrini-Green in Chicago has a fantastic documentary that leaves you hanging on what actually happened. There’s also one on Project Row Houses in Houston’s Third Ward, and one on the Wynwood Walls in Miami. Honestly those teach me more about cities than most books do — I talk more than I read.
Seth: Last one — what’s giving you hope for the future of city building?
Anne: Honestly, I have more concerns right now, given how inward-turned our culture and cities have become so quickly. But my hope is that people are going to get tired of their living rooms, their DoorDash, their convenience habits — I already see a growing trend of people choosing real-life experiences with other people, especially diverse groups. It’s still small, just popcorn here and there, but I think — especially as AI reshapes daily life — human interaction is going to drive a new wave of urban experience. I’m hopeful, even though I think we’ll have some turbulence before we get there.
Seth: That’s a great place to end it. Thank you, Anne, for coming on the podcast.
Anne: I was thrilled to do it. Thanks, Seth — always fun to end the week talking with you.
Seth: The New School for City Builders is a production of the Educational Collaborative for Building Places People Love, and Build the Next Right Thing. If you appreciate what we’re doing and want to help bring the school to fruition, please support us by becoming a paid subscriber at buildthenextrightthing.substack.com.
