To the Alameda Community, Mayor, and City Council,
I’m writing as someone who grew up on this island and is now raising my own children here. I am also a tax paying, law abiding, lifelong resident of Alameda, and I’ll admit, I seem to have missed the memo that living next to a park the entire community pays to maintain comes with additional or special privileges not afforded to those living anywhere else on the island.
Alameda has always been a place where neighbors coexist with the rhythms of community life. Kids playing, families gathering, and yes, parks being actively used in ways that are sometimes loud, crowded, and inconvenient. That is not a flaw in the system. That is the system working.
The recent concerns surrounding Littlejohn Park deserve to be heard but also put into perspective.
Living one block from Lincoln Park growing up, I do not recall, nor am I aware of, any Memorandum of Understanding or special accommodations granted to residents there. No reserved quiet zones, no protected parking bubbles, no formal acknowledgment that living near a park should feel like living next to a private backyard. And yet, that park has long hosted baseball games, soccer matches, and camps that routinely filled the surrounding streets. Families showed up, circled for parking, double checked their folding chairs, and participated in the kinds of outdoor activities we all claim to value for our kids. Somehow, the world kept turning.
Today, I live on High Street, where my backyard fence meets Krusi Park. Parking on High Street and Otis is already heavily impacted, with traffic that can generously be described as ambitious. Add to that the regular soundtrack of amplified music and large gatherings at the picnic tables just feet from our home. It is less peaceful park adjacency and more front row seats for someone else’s party. And still, I am completely unaware of any MOU that grants nearby residents special protection from noise, parking congestion, or the general enthusiasm for public park use.
In the spring, softball season at Krusi Park brings the same intensity now being discussed at Littlejohn. Fields are full, streets are crowded, and families are doing their best to make it all work. As an aunt and a close friend to many families with children in both baseball and softball, I see how important these programs are. I am also unaware of any MOU created to shield Krusi Park residents from this activity, even as they juggle park traffic layered on top of everyday school congestion. Apparently, no one has yet proposed a rotating schedule of silence or a resident only parking force field.
As a constant attendant to swim practice at Franklin, I’ve also spent plenty of time in the orbit of a park, an elementary school, and a “community pool” which, depending on the day, is a generous description. That area experiences its own steady mix of traffic, parking strain, and overlapping uses. Yet again, I am unaware of any special MOU that grants surrounding residents’ unique privileges or insulation from the realities of shared public spaces.
And with the upcoming renovation at Otis, the reality is that park usage across the island is only going to intensify. When one space goes offline, the activity does not disappear, it shifts. Fields, programs, and gatherings will inevitably be redistributed to other parks, including places like Krusi. That raises a fair question. If increased usage at Littlejohn warrants special agreements, what happens when that same pressure spreads elsewhere? Will we see a patchwork of MOUs follow the movement of sports seasons and construction schedules, or will we acknowledge that this is a shared, citywide challenge that calls for consistent expectations?
It would also be in the best interest of both today’s residents and the City Council to take a step back and look at the history of Alameda itself. Our parks were never intended to function as quiet buffers for the few who live closest to them. They exist for the whole community. For the sound of laughing, happy children. For kids, building confidence, discipline, and connection through sports and shared activities. That is the return on investment this city has always claimed it has made in its public spaces.
That is not a complaint. It is simply the reality of living near a shared public space.
What gives pause is the precedent being set. Kindness and consideration should absolutely be expected from all park users. In fact, if we want to reach for guidance, we could start with something as old and simple as “love thy neighbor,” which applies just as much to how we treat the families using these parks as it does to those living beside them. No one is arguing in favor of blocked driveways, rude behavior, or turning sidewalks into standing room only viewing decks. But creating or implying special rights for one neighborhood over another begins to shift our parks from shared community assets into selectively managed zones based on proximity and volume of complaint.
If we are heading toward a future where each park comes with its own customized rulebook, reserved privileges, and carefully negotiated boundaries, it would be helpful to know now so the rest of us can apply accordingly.
Alameda’s parks are not extensions of private property lines. They are shared spaces, used by families who are trying to give their kids something increasingly rare, time outside, on a field, with other people.
We can and should expect respectful behavior. Thoughtful parking, clear walkways, reasonable noise, and basic courtesy are not unreasonable asks. But those expectations should be consistent across all parks in Alameda, not tailored park by park depending on who lives closest.
I support efforts to ensure safety and civility at Littlejohn Park. I also support the families and volunteers who make youth sports possible, often balancing tight schedules, limited space, and high demand for fields. These programs are not overtaking our parks. They are using them exactly as intended.
As this MOU is reconsidered, I urge the City Council and Parks Commission to take a balanced, citywide view. Alameda has long functioned on an understanding that living here means sharing space, sometimes gracefully, sometimes imperfectly, but always collectively.
Let’s not trade the sound of kids playing and families laughing for the illusion of a perfectly quiet curb.
Respectfully,
A lifelong Alameda resident and parent