Leslie Reid was born into a family of two: It was her and her mother, alone in New York, in need of better prospects. Reid spent time in foster care while her mother went to find them a home. Her family grew exponentially when she rejoined her mother, who had found work in Boston with a community of social workers. They'd started an organization for homeless youth, Reid says, and they lived together and worked together, providing shelter and services.
Reid grew up with mentors and inspiration. "I was raised in the collective," she says. "It was about home and defining home; it was about families of choice, not families of origin. That was all in my DNA."
She went to college and graduated with a degree in African American Studies. She also graduated with student loan debt. "I couldn't eat African-American literature," she quips, so, she took a job with the best pay and benefits she could find, at a community development corporation. People were willing to teach her. And she was more than willing to learn. She felt a spark. As she grew in knowledge and confidence, her interest brought her to Madison Park Development Corporation, located in the center of Boston and at the heart of Boston's Black community.
In 2006, Reid stood in the silent hallway of the newly redeveloped Ruggles Shawmut Apartments, the result of her first affordable housing transaction as a project manager for Madison Park, the NeighborWorks organization where she later became CEO. The next day, children were running down that hall while families moved in furniture.
Reid had landed where she was meant to be – at the intersection of her work and her upbringing. "I knew I had found my calling," she says. "People aren't homeless; they're houseless. If they have a place to live, they can thrive in their families of choice."
At different times during her own childhood, Reid was "houseless." She remembers having utilities shut off. She remembers what it was like to put groceries back in the supermarket because she couldn't pay for all she needed.
"I feel a special responsibility because it's rare for someone at my level to have the lived experience that I have – the lived experience of the people we are serving in affordable housing and community development." Reid feels an extra pressure to do well and to ensure there is equity and inclusion in the work that her organization does.
Moving toward leadership
As Reid continued her career, moving on to other organizations, she began working on a housing redevelopment project that involved demolishing public housing and replacing it with a new, mixed-income development. "I realized we were finally giving people what they needed and deserved," she says. "I wanted to do more." For her, that meant introducing a housing ownership aspect into the redevelopment, but the decision makers decided it wasn't a priority. Reid grew frustrated and aggravated. "I was pissed," she says. "I decided that embracing some of the burdens of leadership was important; my voice and perspective make a difference."
Leadership was for her after all. "I like to think of myself as a little bit of a disruptor," Reid says. "It's hard to do that if you're not in a leadership position; if you don't have some control of resources."
When she decided she wanted a leadership role, she came back to Madison Park as vice president of programs. "I had grown up in and around that community," she says. "It's a special connection for me."
Lisa Morishanti was on the board for Madison Park when Reid returned. They had worked together on the Ruggles Shawmut project, where Morishanti was resident services coordinator. When Reid came in, she brought with her a commitment to engage the community and to be transparent at every level of the process.
"There were ongoing conversations with the residents so they could be part of the decision-making process," Morishanti recalls. "Leslie had this vision: People who are going to be most impacted need to weigh in." That's been her philosophy all along.
She also had an infectious energy, Morishanti says. When she applied for the CEO position, she was committed to what she called "radical transparency."
"That's important when you're building trust in the community and an anchor of racial equity work," Morishanti says. "She's a visionary. She knows how to collaborate with grace and humility, to truly be a partner and create spaces for meaningful conversations."
Through the Ruggles Shawmut renovations, Reid and Morishanti continued to convene meetings with residents, even when those residents temporarily lived elsewhere. In her move to build community, Reid also engaged in conversations with the mosque next door and with residents in the community. "It was very important to Leslie for us not to forget the importance of involving the neighborhood. There was a neighbor across the street who was watching what was happening, and every week, I would bring her a cup of coffee and we would talk." That set the tone for the future.
All along her path to the leadership, there were people who saw in Reid what she didn't see in herself, like the collective of social workers and her first executive director, who recruited her for the board of directors at the Jamaica Plain Neighborhood Development Corporation. "Mentors and peers and friends," she says. "My secret superpower is asking for and receiving help."
Equity and equity
This year, Madison Park is celebrating its 55th anniversary. "Our founders were among the first in the country for residents to acquire land, plan it, design it, finance it and develop it on their own," Reid says. "I find that vision incredibly inspirational; it connects back to my role of being a disruptor in the community equity space."
When Reid uses the term "equity," she means both definitions: financial capital and righting past wrongs. She says she feels privileged to be at the helm of Madison Park now, when disparities caused by racism in our country are exposed in such sharp relief. She is committed to making things better.
Under her leadership, the team decided to explore doubling the amount of assistance they provide. Meanwhile, Madison Park is developing a pipeline of new construction to provide first-time homebuyer opportunities.
The organization also administers, along with a network of community development corporations, the federal Family Self Sufficiency Program, which assists individuals who live in Section 8 housing. These individuals pay 30% of their income on rent, Reid says. When their salary goes up, their rent goes up, too. The federal program allows them to put their additional income into savings instead of rent, while going through goal-setting financial coaching. They can use that savings later for a car, for education – even for a vacation, Reid says. Her hope is that the program will also help move those who want to use the savings for homeownership toward their homeownership program.
The HUD program and Madison Park's pilot program are examples of using wealth- and asset-building to further the organization's mission of building healthy communities. "Healthy communities are stable communities," says Reid, who is always finding inspiration in quotes and ideas that speak to her daily work. The ones she has on her desk right now include "Clear eyes, full heart, can't lose," along with a quote from Rep. Ayanna Pressley, who once said that in this moment, she is equal parts righteous rage and radical joy.
"I am known by my colleagues for my intensity," Reid says. "And my intensity comes from my anger and frustration with the injustices and disparities that I see, and how they play out for families in my community." Her anger is the engine that keeps her going, along with the joy she finds in her community's resilience. "The ability to live with resilience, dignity and laughter in spite of all of the challenges we face is inspirational to me every single day."
For someone who started out not wanting to be in leadership, Reid has embraced it full stop. "I will jump on a table to be heard," she says. "I never again want to regret not being heard when I think there's an important way in to advance equity."
