As the Trump administration demolished the East Wing of the White House with astonishing speed last fall, visitors to the top of the Washington Monument could see a pit where the 1902 structure had just been standing. Plenty of historians and preservation-minded people were furious. One group actual ly sued: the National Trust for Historic Preservation, a congressionally chartered nonprofit tasked with safeguarding America’s architectural heritage. On August 7, an appeals court ruled in its favor, halting the construction. Now the administration is likely to appeal to the Supreme Court. That’s just one of many issues facing Brent Leggs, who became the DC organization’s president in June. Raised in Paducah, Kentucky, Leggs initially planned to go into finance before returning to school for a historic-preservation program. He got his start working on the schoolhouses built by Booker T. Washington and philanthropist Julius Rosenwald to provide education to Black children during Jim Crow—a highly personal project because Leggs’s own parents had been educated in these schools. Leggs has worked at the National Trust since 2005 and founded its African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund, which preserves schools, churches, and homes associated with important Black artists and activists. I have kind of a philosophical question to start: What do you think is contained in a place that makes it worth preserving? I’ve thought about this question for years. For me, it’s wisdom, knowledge, and lessons. The way I think about the power of places, historic buildings and landscapes, material culture—it’s just a tool for being able to access knowledge, something that can guide us in the present moment. So that’s what we are transferring from generation to generation. A lot of your work at the National Trust has been around preserving pretty humble places: private homes, schools, churches, other sites as part of the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund. Places like Nina Simone’s home and the Roberts Temple Church of God in Christ, where Emmett Till’s funeral took place. What sorts of threats do these buildings typically face? Our industry has prioritized architectural significance over places that are vernacular. A lot of historic African American places are vernacular buildings, like Nina Simone’s house, a three-room wooden structure. At first glance, you wouldn’t think it had a lot of history; you need to pull back the layers and realize that a legend in civil rights and an icon in music was born there. Thinking about Roberts Temple Church of God in Christ—many Americans do not want to retain a historic place that feels like we’re remaining stuck in a painful past or that has a traumatic connection to American history. What’s exciting about our work in Tryon, North Carolina, around Nina Simone: It first started with an understanding that she deserved a singular place where her legacy would endure. And now our stewardship strategy has expanded to include her home church that is still there, and the cemetery. When you start to weave together this tapestry of sites and stories, you have a more holistic understanding of a community’s history, but also a broader understanding of a historical figure. That’s a different kind of thing from your lawsuit over President Trump’s East Wing ballroom project. What are you hoping to achieve with that? We anticipate the administration will appeal quickly and go to the Supreme Court. A site like the White House—a National Historic Landmark, a national park stewarded by the National Park Service—is one where we must have well-controlled and -managed processes for any modifications to this iconic place in global history. And the other hope is that what gets constructed there would be approved by Congress. We believe that they have solid legal authority to define construction at the White House, and we want to ensure that whatever is being built there works in harmony within this historic cultural landscape. You know very well that DC is a planned and designed city. It is America’s most unique cultural landscape, and these many government buildings were intentionally positioned and designed to be in communication with one another. We want to make sure that any new construction is not going to destroy the historic relationship, and in particular isn’t destroying the architectural significance of [the White House]. Of course, it’s not just the White House that the administration is trying to alter in a big way. There’s the triumphal arch, the Garden of Heroes, and lots more. Do you plan to get involved with any of these other projects? The core to our mission is advocating for and defending broadly historic places that are threatened—in particular, those of global significance. And the DC cultural landscape is of exceptional significance. We are quietly working behind the scenes on some campaigns. Others are more visible. We’re the sole plaintiff in the case for the White House and ballroom; we are part of a coalition with eight co-plaintiffs on the Kennedy Center. And we are working with a broad coalition of organizations and private legal firms to find solutions to the current threats to historic preservation. The administration has proposed weakening some national historic-preservation rules. This would make Trump’s big DC projects easier, but it could also threaten historic sites around the country. Every historic asset across the nation is potentially under threat. And if our federal agencies are beginning to undermine the fabric of protocols and rules for how modern society governs its historic-preservation practices, at a national level it’s going to be weakened. We have deep concern for the potential harms that this fast-tracking of deregulation could have. The ripple effect to local communities could be substantial in the process, elevating economic development over the protection of some of the most important historic places. The ballroom project is shocking. But in 1942, Franklin D. Roosevelt made major changes to the East Wing too, adding a second story and a bunker. Do you think we as a society have become more sensitive about preservation of historic buildings since then? There are these milestone moments in the legacy of historic preservation in the US: 1906, 1910, 1916, 1935, the 1949 National Trust charter, and the Historic Preservation Act of 1966. In all of these moments, concerned citizens were responding to threats in their neighborhoods and communities. [It was an] appreciation for things important in American history. And so we’ve been building to increase public awareness. With the 1940s campaign, it’s my understanding that President Roosevelt worked in partnership with Congress. That’s the distinction, that here there was no cooperation with Congress. It happened so quickly. And our concern is, as preservationists, we help society manage change in ways that do not disconnect communities from the legacies of their past. There was not a process to support the balance in this situation, which is recognizing that there’s a need for modifications and expanded space for contemporary use, while at the same time needing to be thoughtful on how best to protect the integrity of the most important landscape and architectural icon in American history. That balance was not pursued, and that cooperation didn’t happen. Do you think the urge to preserve comes in waves? Of course. That’s how culture is created—that there’s typically some problem that communities are responding to that is igniting a new kind of awareness. What’s been exciting through my 20-plus years is I’ve seen how historic preservation has evolved in its commitment to telling the full history of our nation, and doing that through an expansive and inclusive lens. One criticism I’ve heard of historic preservation more broadly is that it can freeze places and neighborhoods, causing issues with the creation of new housing and keeping new residents out. There’s a misperception that we are an industry or a movement of “no” and that everything is just frozen in time. When we look at historic districts and conservation districts, what’s beautiful about America is that you have the flexibility to buy in. I think Americans have a sense of responsibility and raise their hand to say historic districts matter. On the other hand, we are looking to innovate the traditional house museum that is often held in amber. Remember the red velvet ropes? You would walk inside of a historic place, you’d visit it once, you’d learn some history, and never go back to the site. That’s what we’re reimagining. I don’t want to say it’s moving beyond the house museum, but it’s expanding the portfolio of options with creative programming so that community members living in neighborhoods have access to culture and beauty and history. I know that the Muhammad Mosque, which was built on Fourth Street, Northwest, in 1960, got funding through one of your grant programs, called Conserving Black Modernism. What are some of your other favorite historic buildings in DC beyond the federal enclave? DC has so much rich history. One of our projects we funded is a Kappa Alpha Psi house [a historic Black-fraternity alumni house near Howard University]. You’ve also got the National Association of Colored Women, and they’re in an elegant, grand Beaux Arts–style building. That place holds so much richness related to women’s history, and most people who walk past that site in the Dupont–Logan Circle area would have no idea that it holds a civic legacy of more than 100 years. Then Frederick Douglass’s Cedar Hill in Anacostia is a place that is so exceptional. Standing on the front steps and overlooking the DC landscape, you get a sense of how that view inspired his ideals and his passion for advancing social progress. To be at a historic site like that—it’s hard not to draw wisdom and lessons and inspiration. A lot of what I’m thinking about now is helping the public to understand that all of these historic places, from the White House to Nina Simone, are part of our collective.The post Brent Leggs on Suing Trump and Saving Historic Places first appeared on Washingtonian. ...read more read less