Space: Where Meaning Takes Shape
Space has always been a concept that resonates deeply with me. Growing up in small town New Mexico, space was vast and weirdly sacred. The open landscapes and endless skies held a quiet, yet steady power—a gentle reminder of our place in the world and the connections we share with it. There, space wasn’t something you took for granted; it was something you respected. It cradled stories and carried history. It was where families gathered, where traditions were passed down, and where the world seemed to hold its breath in reverence.
When I moved to New York City, space took on a new meaning. Suddenly, it was compressed, buzzing with energy, and every inch seemed to have a purpose. My time in commercial real estate brought that reality into sharp focus. Selling the concept of space as a commodity—often more expensive than most people’s regular living expenses—was a strange adjustment for someone who grew up seeing space as infinite. To me, commodities had always been the gold, silver, and jewels my grandmother wore—things of beauty and permanence, tied to memories and meaning. But here I was navigating a world where space, something that once seemed boundless, was now finite and fiercely contested.
It was humbling to realize that while space in New York was bought and sold in skyscrapers and retail corridors, the power struggle for it often left those most in need with the least access. For every luxury tower or flagship store, there were countless neighborhoods where people were fighting for a tiny sliver of opportunity. That tension stayed with me, shaping how I approached my work and deepening my belief that space must be more than a transaction. It must serve a greater purpose.
I came to understand the power of space even more clearly during my time at the Times Square Alliance. Managing large-scale events like the New Year’s Eve Ball Drop and Solstice in Times Square offered a unique window into how space transforms when it’s activated with intention. What struck me most wasn’t the grandeur or scale—it was the moments when space became a vessel for connection. I remember watching people gather for yoga at sunrise, surrounded by the buzz of Times Square, and seeing how even in the busiest, most chaotic environments, space could provide clarity and unity.
I’ve carried those lessons with me throughout my career, whether managing NYC’s Business Solutions Center, working in community engagement, or helping create intentional spaces with Perch Advisors. In every role, I’ve seen how space, when approached with care, can be transformational. I’ve been in boardrooms where a tense discussion softened because someone made room for a different perspective. I’ve facilitated meetings where a single idea, given space to grow, shifted the trajectory of a person’s life or business. And I’ve stood in community parks, watching neighbors meet for the first time, realizing that creating space is as much about fostering relationships as it is about physical design.
Not all space is tangible, but its impact is always felt. Some of the most profound spaces I’ve encountered have been the ones created in personal moments. As a caregiver for my grandmother during her battle with Alzheimer’s and cancer, I saw firsthand how space could bring dignity and peace. In her final years, the quiet moments we shared—a hand held, a meal savored—taught me that the most meaningful spaces don’t need walls or grandeur. They simply need intention.
Today, as the Director of Operations for Perch Advisors, a woman-owned economic development consulting firm based in New York City, I carry these lessons with me. At Perch, we see space as more than a finite resource; it’s a tool for creating opportunity, equity, and connection. Whether we’re activating a public plaza, empowering a small business, or helping a community reimagine its future, our work is rooted in the belief that space, when approached with intention, can change lives.
Further, what makes this work so fulfilling is its humanity. The spaces we help create aren’t only functional—they’re deeply personal. They’re the local vendor who finds a foothold in a revitalized market, the park where neighbors gather to share stories, and the quiet corner where someone finds solace. These moments remind me of why space matters: it’s where we connect, where we heal, and where we grow.
Looking back, I see how space has shaped my journey as much as I’ve shaped it. From the open skies of New Mexico to the dense streets of New York, from skyscrapers to kitchen tables, space has always been my teacher, offering lessons in patience, creativity, and compassion. It has shown me that its true value lies in the meaning we give it and the connections it fosters.
As we move forward, I hope we can all take a moment to reflect on the spaces we inhabit and create. Let’s make room for voices that need to be heard, for ideas that need space to grow, and for connections that remind us of our shared humanity. Let’s use space intentionally, knowing that every moment of care and thoughtfulness has the power to ripple outward.
Because space isn’t merely where we live—it’s where we come alive.