• 1 Seldin, Claudia, Caio C.A. Barros, Pedro Costa, and Thomas Gavinho, “Peripheral Creativity: Tempor (...)

1The equal distribution of formal leisure and cultural spaces in Brazilian cities is a long-standing problem. In metropolises, such as Rio de Janeiro, formal leisure spaces (i.e., designed parks, squares, sports areas) and cultural facilities (i.e., museums, cultural centers, cinemas, theaters) tend to concentrate in the city centers and in affluent neighborhoods. Historically marginalized and subaltern areas, such as favelas and peripheral neighborhoods, suffer from a lack of quality public and collective spaces and are usually not adequately contemplated in public policies, which decide on the distribution of funds, urban services, and infrastructure.1

• 2 Lefebvre, Henri, Le Droit à la Ville, Paris: Anthropos, 1968.
• 3 Vaz, Lilian Fessler and Claudia Seldin, eds., Culturas e Resistências na Cidade, Rio de Janeiro: R (...)

2Often disregarded by the state, inhabitants of these marginalized areas have to come up with their own solutions to build leisure/cultural spaces and assert their right to the city, as once proposed by Lefebvre.2 These solutions can take the shape of temporary cultural centers under flyovers, open-air cinemas in leftover spaces, self-built squares/parks, and self-built community museums,3 just to name a few. These self-built spaces are often a product of improvisation (as in many other cities in the so-called “Global South”), but also consist of life projects for the inhabitants of neglected and marginalized urban areas.

• 4 Instituto Pereira Passos, https://ipp.prefeitura.rio/, accessed May 5, 2019.
• 5 More specifically the public policies implemented in the first two terms of the presidency of Luís (...)

6The fieldwork for this research consisted in visiting and assessing different temporary and self-built spaces located in favelas and peripheral neighborhoods of the four different zones that officially compose the city of Rio de Janeiro (South, Center, North, and West) for a period of over four years. Previous research and local statistics4 have proved that neighborhoods in the West Zone are considered the most neglected ones, while favelas in different zones tend to face severe challenges when it comes to planning and infrastructure. Four main case studies derived from this broader research project: two were improvised open-air cultural centers, one was an open-air museum, and one was a favela park. These were analyzed as comparative case studies, with particular attention paid to the many differences in their contexts, actors, and goals. They were assessed individually as site-specific phenomena, but also collectively as a set of different tactics derived as consequences of the lack of state support to marginalized inhabitants in Rio de Janeiro (and Brazil) in the late 2010s. Jointly, they were also perceived as a reflection of the crisis period that immediately followed the presidential terms of politicians of the local labor party (Partido dos Trabalhadores, PT) between 2003 and 2016.5 During these left-wing presidencies (especially between 2003 and 2011), public policies developed on a national scale had a stronger social character. The mid to late 2010s reflected the decline of these policies and, later, the conservative political turn that sought to annul and deny the need for more egalitarian and progressive policies in Brazil (especially during the presidency of Jair Bolsonaro, who dismantled the Brazilian Ministry of Culture). These case studies reflect the local marginalized communities’ need to struggle for their daily existence, while their issues regarding continuity are understood as a strong reflection of this period of political and economic instability.

• 6 Simone, AbdouMaliq, Improvised Lives, Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 2019, p. 4.
• 7 Roy, Ananya, “Transnational Trespassings: The Geopolitics of Urban Informality,” in Ananya Roy and (...)

11When it comes to inhabiting favelas, living life the “Brazilian way” may just be a necessity. The need to build one’s own spaces because the state has failed them reflects the ability to get things done to ensure one’s existence and life projects. Of course, this is not limited to Brazil. Self-building (and self-designing for that matter) is a product of instinct, improvisation, and informality in many marginalized (urban) areas all over the world. In his research with African cities, AbdouMaliq Simone speaks of the power of improvisation for lives in the so-called “Global South,” highlighting the need for “things continuously being worked out and proportioned. [There is] an atmosphere of countervailing, complementary, and incommensurable measures that gives rise to a specific, yet changing sense of place.”6 Indian planning professor Ananya Roy chooses to see informality without the usual negative charge attached to the concept. She highlights how the urban poor have “built their own city without any reference whatsoever,” declaring informality a widespread global “mode of urbanization.”7

• 8 Zibechi, Raúl, Territórios em Resistência: Cartografia Política das Periferias Urbanas Latino-Amer (...)
• 9 Ibid.
• 10 Bey, Hakin, Temporary Autonomous Zone, São Paulo, Veneta, 2018.

12Here, we propose the idea that self-building, self-designing, improvisation, and informality can be seen as part of a decolonial toolbox for resistance and re-existence in marginalized urban areas. Taking a closer look at South American cities, Uruguayan political theorist Raúl Zibechi suggests viewing certain marginalized territories as “territories of resistance.”8 He believes that dwellers of peripheral areas are often abandoned by the state and disconnected from the formal economic markets, forming alternative territories where power dynamics and structures are very singular. While many deem these areas problematic (especially politicians, urban managers, and the upper classes), Zibechi sees their potential as spaces with “emancipatory powers.”9 This aspect of resistance and emancipation may remind some of what anarchist poet Hakim Bey calls “temporary autonomous zones.”10 However, if history has proven anything, it is that favelas are not temporary and can no longer be seen merely as problematic or as loci of “underdevelopment” and negativity. Favelas are fluid, diverse, and an ever-changing source of human (re)invention and of collective mobilization. Their inhabitants should no longer be perceived one-dimensionally as subaltern subjects “living on the margins” because they are essential for the city. In fact, these “marginalized” communities are historically responsible for some of Brazil’s richest cultural expressions, including samba and capoeira. That is why favelas need to be accepted and incorporated as spaces of potential into the agenda of public policies.

• 11 Quijano, Aníbal, “Colonialidad del Poder, Eurocentrismo y América Latina”, in Cuestiones y Horizon (...)
• 12 Mignolo, Walter and Catherine Walsh, On Decoloniality: Concepts, Analytics, Praxis, Durham, NC: Du (...)

13Looking at favelas from a positive standpoint can be a powerful decolonial tool. Following Peruvian sociologist Aníbal Quijano’s views on coloniality and power,11 we need to break with the modern imposition of the concept of “development” as a mirror of Eurocentric realities. For Mignolo and Walsh, “development” can be understood as a synonym for Eurocentric “ideas of progress and [their] civilizing mission. Development replaced progress and modernization replaced civilizing mission.”12 For these authors, people constructing their local histories, as well as daily resistance or re-existence by colonized people, is a response against “the colonial matrix of power” (CMP).

• 13 Vaz, Lilian Fessler, Modernidade e Moradia, Rio de Janeiro: 7 Letras, 2002.

15Every school kid in Brazil learns that, in 1808, after the arrival of the Portuguese royal family in Rio de Janeiro, the letters “PR” (for Prince Regent) were painted on the doors of random houses, indicating that their dwellers should leave and “honorably” donate their homes to members of the European court. Soon, “PR” was associated with the expression “Ponha-se na Rua” (loosely translated as, “go to the street”). Other notable evictions date back to Pereira Passos’s revitalization of Rio’s city center in the early 1900s and the dismantling of tenements to open broad avenues, following the example of Haussmann in Paris.13

• 14 Faulhaber, Lucas and Lena Azevedo, SMH 2016. Remoções no Rio de Janeiro Olímpico, Rio de Janeiro: (...)

16Since the dawn of “modernity,” the need for “urban development” has constantly threatened the poor, more recently subordinated to neoliberal business/real estate interests and urban image making schemes. Eviction and displacement of the poor from strategic city centers to peripheral areas and nuclei of poverty has been extremely strong in recent years in Brazilian cities, such as Rio de Janeiro, as evidenced by the evictions resulting from the urban projects for the 2016 Olympic Games.14 In many ways, eviction and displacement can be perceived as a descendant of colonialist logic, incorporating schemes of invasion, social cleansing, and the sanitization of “underdeveloped” landscapes into “civilized” ones.

• 15 Vaz, Lilian Fessler and Claudia Seldin, “From the Precarious to the Hybrid: The case of the Maré C (...)
• 16 Seldin, Claudia, Barros, Caio C. A., Costa, Pedro and Gavinho, Thomas, op. cit.
• 17 Seldin, Claudia, Caio C.A. Barros, Pedro Costa, and Victória Michelini, “Contested and Contesting: (...)

17Given the historic violence and neglect of the state, many favela dwellers mobilize through social/cultural/political collectives not only to build their own spaces, but also to protest eviction, displacement, and to debate important issues tied to their daily struggles. In Rio de Janeiro alone, several collectives have emerged in favelas and peripheral areas since the 1990s to debate issues related to the lack of cultural facilities, poor infrastructure/urban services, systemic racism, domestic violence, environmental sustainability, among others. Examples of these collectives and their self-built/improvised spaces in Rio de Janeiro are the Maré Museum,15 the Realengo Flyover Cultural Space,16 the Cine Taquara,17 and the Sitiê Park (which will be discussed further ahead). In doing so, they turn the spaces they inhabit into active territories of resistance and social movement.

• 18 Mignolo, Walter and Catherine Walsh, op. cit., p. 18.
• 19 Ibid.
• 20 Holston, James, “Espaços de Cidadania Insurgente,” Revista do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Nac (...)

18From a decolonial perspective, Mignolo and Walsh prefer to speak of such movements not from the lens of resistance, but of re-existence. According to them, re-existence is present through “the mechanisms that human groups implement as a strategy of questioning and making visible the practices of racialization, exclusion and marginalization, procuring the redefining and re-signifying of life in conditions of dignity and self-determination, while at the same time confronting the bio-politic that controls, dominates, and commodifies subjects and nature.”18 What they consider a “collective resurgence”19 is similar to what James Holston considers as “insurgent citizenship.”20 For Holston, spaces that oppose the modern/modernist city should be understood as “spaces of insurgent citizenship,” because they result from actions born outside of the mainstream/formal planning schemes while searching for legitimization.

• 21 Miraftab, Faranak, “Insurgent Planning: Situating Radical Planning in the Global South,” Planning (...)
• 22 Ibid.

19The concept of insurgency can be directly linked to the “organic planning” and general spatial configuration of favelas and other traditionally marginalized urban areas. According to planning professor Faranak Miraftab,21 “insurgent planning” or “radical planning” is an action embedded with a grassroots character in search of inclusion, while challenging the operating neoliberal practices of city making. She adds that this concept focuses on planning rather than planners, incorporating multiple actors and the actions that are community-based and informal. Insurgent planning, for Miraftab, includes “purposeful actions that aim to disrupt domineering relationships of oppressors to the oppressed.”22

• 23 Seldin, Claudia, Imagens Urbanas e Resistências: Das Capitais de Cultura às Cidades Criativas, Rio (...)
• 24 Schwarz, Roberto, Cultura e Política, São Paulo: Paz e Terra, 2001.

20Here, we would like to offer the concept of insubordinate planning as a step beyond what is described by Miraftab. Insubordinate planning, as observed in Rio de Janeiro’s favelas, can be understood as another decolonial tool developed by inhabitants as they tactically self-design and self-build urban spaces on their own terms and as a response to neglect. These insubordinate facilities are not limited to housing and basic infrastructure, as commonly seen in marginalized areas worldwide, but they are spaces of and for culture, where education and exchanges of daily experiences take place, including the discussion of socially motivated and political issues. These spaces do not follow the principle of so-called “best practices” originated in cities of the “Global North” or planning trends of urban renewal/revitalization/beautification aimed at selling attractive city images for consumption in the global network.23 In other words, they reject the mainstream best practices, trends, and policies, which fall under the category of what Roberto Schwarz (2001) would call “ideas out of place.”24 Instead of copying and multiplying ready-made formulas, they foster the creation of situated planning knowledge.

• 25 Escobar, Arturo, Designs for the Pluriverse, London: Duke University Press, 2018.
• 26 Roy, Ananya, “Slumdog Cities: Rethinking Subaltern Urbanism,” International Journal of Urban and R (...)

22The act of self-designing and self-building common spaces often happens through collective and collaborative actions, which help to establish a sense of community, solidarity, and reciprocal support that is not unusual in favelas. This focus on the common being rather than the individual is often seen in decolonial thinking under the motto of “el buen vivir”25 (loosely translated into “good living”), which entails breaking away from competitive goals at the core of Western and capitalist logics. The type of collective mobilization seen in the Sitiê Park fits into the narrative of the subaltern reclaiming their agency to change the city. This dynamic is akin to that proposed by Ananya Roy, when talking about subaltern urbanism.26

• 27 Canedo, Juliana and Luciana Andrade, “Squatting as Tactics for Creative Resistance and Transformat (...)
• 28 Freire, Paulo, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, New York: Continuum, 2005.

23Collectivity and collaboration, in this sense, entail not just building spaces and joint mobilization, but also building together knowledge about spaces. The Solano Trindade collaborative planning case, researched and co-built by Brazilian architects27 along with several actors from academia and social movements, is an example of how the joint construction of a squat fosters connections and allows members of a community to teach each other about what the real best practices that particular space are. As Brazilian educator Paulo Freire posed in his Pedagogy of the Oppressed, knowledge can be built through invention and reinvention, with contexts of social struggles being a valuable source of learning.28

• 29 McFarlane, Colin, “Urban Fragments: A Subaltern Studies Imagination,” in Tariq Jazeel and Stephen (...)
• 30 Ibid.
• 31 Ibid., p. 167.

24When it comes to the self-building of spaces, one could argue that favela dwellers are building their own situated knowledge about specific areas or subaltern urban fragments,29 affirming their legitimacy and right to exist in cities. Building legit favela spaces can be also perceived as an act of embracing “pluriversalism,” as in multiple ways of making cities instead of accepting a universalism of design and planning, and the notion of existing best practices valid for everywhere. Insubordinate planning should also assure us that there is another type of planning and designing that is autonomous and valid beyond what is taught at universities, as suggested by Colombian anthropologist Arturo Escobar.30 In defining “autonomy,” Escobar highlights the necessity of “finding one’s way into the next moment by acting appropriately out of one’s own resources.”31

• 32 Mignolo, Walter and Catherine Walsh, op. cit., p. 1.

25In the case of the Sitiê Park in the Vidigal Favela in Rio de Janeiro, which will be discussed ahead, autonomous design is paired with using and creating situated knowledge about the specificities of the favela space, while also building a stronger connection to nature and neighbors. These connections to nature relate to basic principles of decolonial theory pointing at Andean Indigenous thinkers, who speak of America as Abya Yala and of “vincularidad” (loosely translated here as “interconnectedness”). Rebuilding human connection to nature relates to the dependent relationship between living beings and the land.32

• 33 According to the last official Demographic Census in 2010, there were ca. 10,000 inhabitants in th (...)

26The Sitiê Park is an 8,500-square-meter site within the Atlantic Forest, located on the Vidigal Hill and Favela in the South Zone of Rio de Janeiro. Due to its close proximity to the affluent neighborhoods and beaches of Leblon and Ipanema, Vidigal possesses one of the most coveted views in the city. Living in Vidigal, however, would not be everybody’s first choice. Despite the beautiful views, this is still a medium-sized favela for Rio’s standards, with ca. 25,000 inhabitants, mostly of lower income levels.33 As with most favelas situated on hills, access to many locations is only possible by motorcycle or on foot, the infrastructure is often poor, and there are conflicts between drug trafficking gangs fighting for control of the local territory.

• 34 Collins, Jennifer, “Dump turned Paradise,” Deutsche Welle, June 10, 2016, https://www.dw.com/en/a- (...)
• 35 Pennafort, Roberta, “Morro do Vidigal Trocou Crimes por Festas Cool,” Exame Online, August 31, 201 (...)
• 36 Williamson, Theresa, “Madonna and the Risks of Land Titling,” Rio on Watch, January 29, 2015, http (...)
• 37 Seldin, Claudia, “Culture, Temporary Uses and Unusual Spaces in Rio de Janeiro,” Proceedings of th (...)
• 38 This information derives from semi-structured interviews with two inhabitants of the Santa Marta f (...)
• 39 Corrêa, Douglas, “Morro do Vidigal, Até Então Considerado Tranquilo, Entra no Mapa da Violência,” (...)
• 40 Gaffney, Chris, “Can We Blame It on Rio?” Bulletin of Latin American Research, 2019, vol. 38, n^o 3 (...)

27Even so, Vidigal inhabitants should not be stigmatized. Most favela inhabitants are honest workers, do not take part in gang violence, and lead normal lives just like every other citizen. In fact, they often manage to strive in spite of having to deal with inefficient and unjust policies, poor urban services, and a lack of quality spaces in their vicinity. More recently, Vidigal inhabitants have also had to deal with a wave of gentrification34 that transpired in a very different manner than how it usually plays out in North America and Western Europe. Favela gentrification in Rio was ephemeral and brought on by a temporary surge in the number of hostels, party locations for young rich kids and tourists,35 and even by rumors of international celebrities (such as David Beckham and Madonna)36 buying property on the hill. This gentrification wave lasted only during the few years that immediately preceded the sports mega events hosted by the country in the mid-2010s37 (especially the Olympic Games, hosted by Rio de Janeiro in 2016). More importantly, this wave coincided with the implementation of the Pacifying Police Units (Unidades de Polícia Pacificadora, UPPs) and rumored pacts between city officials and drug trafficking gangs to keep the peace in favelas, as part of a friendlier image for the host city. While these pacts cannot be proven,38 the failure and withdrawal of the UPPs shortly after the mega events, followed by new heights in urban violence in the city, speak for themselves. The return of the favelas’ images as dangerous areas,39 coupled with the country’s economic and political crises after 2013,40 posed an end to the “cool” favela parties and a decline to favelas’ new businesses that aimed to cater to the young, rich, and international.

• 41 Canclini, Nestor García, “O Papel da Cultura em Cidades Pouco Sustentáveis,” in Mônica Allende Ser (...)
• 42 Interviewee A, October 21 2016.
• 43 Parque Sitiê, http://www.parquesitie.org/historia, accessed October 10, 2016.
• 44 Sitiê Eco Park - Favela Inc., https://favelainc.com/sitie-eco-park/, accessed March 21, 2023.

28This complex context, which mixes the exoticism of favela tourism,41 the myth of the marvelous Brazilian natural landscapes, and a new type of gentrification formed the backdrop for the creation of the Sitiê Park. From the 1980s to the early 2000s, this area of Vidigal was the target of several informal housing constructions. These were deemed unsafe by Rio’s Municipality, due to the close proximity to the hill slopes, and demolished in 2003.42 The demolition of houses was not followed by any proper cleaning of the debris by the public authorities and the area soon became a large dumpsite for locals, totaling ca. 16 tons of rubble in the 2000s.43 The smell of dead animals and the picture of decline bothered those who still dwelled in the proximity, leading two neighbors to begin the cleaning process of the site. Their main goal was to turn it into a quality space for the local community, given the lack of any other traditional cultural or leisure spaces in the favela. Eventually, some locals were employed by the municipality as garbage collectors in Vidigal.44

• 45 Interviewee A and Interviewee B, 21 October 2016.
• 46 Mignolo, Walter and Catherine Walsh, op. cit., p. 88.
• 47 The official name of the park has changed a few times since its inauguration, according to transfo (...)

29They soon realized that their neighbors would continue to use the area as a dumpsite unless they managed to involve them in its maintenance process, enabling them to develop a “symbolic/emotional attachment to the site.”45 Their first step was to instigate conversations with their neighbors about the importance of nature and about principles of sustainability. They soon decided to build a common vegetable garden, also designing and teaching gardening workshops. This process is similar to that described by Paulo Freire, when valuing a pedagogy centered on people’s “subjectivities, histories, and struggles”.46 The very name “Sitiê” was imagined by one of its founders and consists in an adaptation of the Portuguese word for “site” (sítio) and an affectionate suffix related to an experience he had as a child.47

• 48 Interviewee A, 21 October 2016.
• 49 Dorado, Rexy, “De Lixão a Parque Ecológico no Vidigal,” Rio on Watch, July 5, 2012, https://rioonw (...)
• 50 Rede Globo, “Expedições Urbanas vai ao Vidigal, no Rio, Conhecer o Parque Sitiê,” June 27, 2015, h (...)

30Interviews with the founders of the gardens reveal that the real turning point came when they began distributing the vegetables to neighbors. The latter now perceived the site as a source of food, leading to a process they described as a “functional and affective exchange” amongst people and between people and the land.48 From these experiences, a managing group was created and led by two main (male) figures. They decided to start a partial reforestation process of the area by themselves and with their own resources, though later receiving plant donations from Rio de Janeiro’s Botanical Garden.49 The reforestation process was so successful that, by 2012, the area obtained official recognition from local authorities through the title of “urban park” and the city’s “first agroforest.”50

• 51 Mignolo, Walter and Catherine Walsh, op. cit., p. 64.

31Because of its deep connection with nature and the fostering of situated knowledge about the local landscapes (the Vidigal hill, the Atlantic Forest, and the specificities of life in a favela), the Sitiê is a living example of decolonial practice and the organic application of decolonial tools. The Sitiê Park is perceived by locals as a sanctuary, an area of peace and reparation. This relates to the principles of “el buen vivir,” which speaks of the harmonious relationship between all beings. According to Mignolo and Walsh, “included in this relation are water and food, culture and science, education, housing and habitat, health, work, community, nature, territory and land, economy, and individual and collective rights [...].”51

• 52 United Nations – Department of Economic and Social Affairs, https://sdgs.un.org/, accessed March 2 (...)
• 53 Interviewee C, October 17 2016.
• 54 Seldin, Claudia and Lilian Fessler Vaz, “O Parque Sitiê na Favela do Vidigal: Um Novo Espaço,” in (...)

32Still in 2012, Rio de Janeiro hosted the United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development (also referred to as Rio+20). The event highlighted the need to adopt Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)52 and brought attention to the Sitiê Park. It was on this occasion that a Brazilian architect became aware of the area and space, offering to collaborate with them to develop the project further. He would eventually relocate to Vidigal and open his own firm in the favela, even employing interns who were Bachelor’s students in architecture and urbanism at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro.53 This partnership proved essential, as it allowed the dissemination of the Sitiê story to other national and international contexts,54 leading to more visibility and collaborations between the Vidigal gardeners and public and private institutions.

• 55 Seldin, Claudia, Barros, Caio; Ribeiro, Pedro and Michelini, Victoria, op. cit.

34As previous research proves,55 continuity, legitimization, as well as institutional and financial support are some of the biggest obstacles faced by collectives trying to build and maintain their own cultural spaces in Rio de Janeiro’s favelas. Therefore, a horizontal collaboration with different stakeholders is imperative for any success.

• 56 Canedo, Juliana and Luciana Andrade, op. cit.
• 57 Escobar, Arturo, op. cit.
• 58 Bey, Hakin, Temporary Autonomous Zone, São Paulo, Veneta, 2018.

35The collaboration with the planning professionals and students specifically opened a new chapter in the history of the collective. Together, they began to focus on expanding the park, designing new spaces together – the architects listening to and working with the community, instead of imposing design solutions that might be considered “best practices” for other contexts but were unfit for this reality. The favela was constructing for the favela, keeping up with one of its most defining characteristics of self-building,56 though now with some external assistance. The expansion happened collaboratively and horizontally, with the local dwellers expressing their spatial demands and working together to make the new spaces come to fruition. The lack of attention from local authorities became a double-edged sword: on the one hand, favela dwellers did not have the proper financial support from public resources to better their infrastructure. On the other hand, being somewhat invisible meant more freedom to build what and how they wanted, following the tenets of what Arturo Escobar calls “autonomous design.”57 The fine line between seeking visibility (in the interest of legitimacy) and not drawing too much attention (to have more freedom) puts the Sitiê Park once again into the category defined by Hakim Bey as a “temporary autonomous zone.”58

• 59 SEED Network, https://seednetwork.org/, accessed May 8, 2023.

38In 2015-2016, the park was officially recognized by the Parks and Gardens Foundation (Fundação Parques e Jardins) and by Rio de Janeiro’s Secretary of Environment (Secretaria de Meio Ambiente). This gave the inhabitants’ collective project more legitimization and allowed for the legal incorporation of a hiking trail of over 1,500 square meters to the park’s official area. In 2015, the park was awarded the Social Economic Environmental Design certificate by the SEED Network.59 In 2016, the park was selected to represent Brazil in the Venice Biennale of Architecture.

• 60 Interviewee C, October 17 2016.
• 61 Góis, Ancelmo, “Presidente da Associação de Moradores Diz Ter Sido Expulso do Vidigal pelo Tráfico (...)
• 62 ”Interviewee C, November 20 2016 and November 21 2016 (via Facebook Messager).

39Still in 2016, the collective responsible for the park had several plans for the future, including the transformation of the hiking trail into an “arts path” (“caminho das artes”) and the implementation of a project for rainwater harvesting, which would have been a forerunner infrastructure project for a favela.60 However, by the end of that year, the people responsible for managing the park along with the planning professionals were forced to leave the Vidigal Favela under the threat of a local drug trafficking gang. Reports in local newspapers61 and on social media62 hinted that the collective had refused to grant the gang free access to circulate through the area or to falsely add its members to the park’s official list of employees. For most of 2017, the park’s activities were ceased. Since then, the park has gone through several name changes and a lot of instability, losing some of the credibility and visibility it once had. In the following years, the park remained partially abandoned.

• 63 Zibechi, Raúl, op. cit., p. 161-162.
• 64 Parque Ecológico Sitiê, https://www.facebook.com/parque.sitie, accessed May 2, 2023.
• 65 Botelho, Amanda. “Moradoras do Vidigal e do Alemão Atuam em Prol da Sustentabilidade nas Favelas,” (...)

40One of the aspects that negatively marked the Vidigal case in comparison to other case studies included in this research project was the lack of women in leadership positions. Many of the other case studies included a strong female presence and a reversal of vertical relationships into more vertical ones, following the perception of Zibechi about Latin American social actions and movements being family-oriented.63 This was not the case for the Sitiê until very recently. However, with the COVID-19 pandemic, that slowly started to change. In 2023, news of a new awakening of the park started to surface, especially on Facebook.64 This awakening was led by a female dweller, who perceived the park as a source of strength to deal with her newly found breast cancer diagnosis. According to her, “the park needed healing and so did [she]. So, [they] healed each other”.65 This female dweller restarted the process of cleaning the area and instigated a new phase of occupation without any official support from the local government/authorities, instead counting solely on help from volunteering neighbors and visitors.