Reimagining Albuquerque

Albuquerque’s Downtown has been drifting for years: underbuilt, underpopulated, and undermined by a planning regime too timid to think big. But we now have a rare opportunity to reverse that trend. The proposed gross receipts tax to fund a new performing arts center—and other quality-of-life projects across the city—isn’t just good policy. It’s an urgent necessity.

We’ve seen what’s possible in the Sawmill District. That part of town didn’t flourish by accident. It flourished because the city made intentional, catalytic investments. Now it’s time to bring that same energy and vision to the historic heart of Albuquerque.

Even if every office worker returned to Downtown tomorrow, we’d still have a problem: we’ve lost population. And we now live in a post-COVID world where hybrid work is here to stay and Class A office space is scarce. Downtowns across the country have learned this the hard way: if your recovery plan depends on daytime workers fueling the local economy, you’re already losing. The Downtowns that have rebounded the fastest aren’t the ones that got workers back in cubicles. They’re the ones that brought residents back to their cores.

That means building homes. Thousands of them.

In a city where housing costs are the biggest driver of inflation and financial stress, it’s housing, not just office traffic, that will determine whether Downtown Albuquerque survives and thrives. Any real Downtown strategy must include serious incentives for new housing. And any effort to stall development in and around Downtown, especially on publicly controlled land, should be viewed for what it is: an abdication of leadership.

But housing alone is not enough. People need a reason to come and stay. That’s where the performing arts center comes in.

A world-class performing arts venue is not a luxury; it’s a catalyst. It gives Albuquerque a powerful draw for visitors across the Southwest, enhances our appeal to conventions and events, and creates an economic halo effect for nearby restaurants, hotels, and small businesses. But more than that, it’s the glue that binds Downtown’s cultural assets: KiMo Theatre, the Rail Trail, local galleries, museums, and the historic core into a coherent ecosystem. An ecosystem that doesn’t just serve those who live nearby, but becomes a magnet for regional identity, pride, and commerce.

We talk often about Downtown as the city’s cultural heart—but a heart needs circulation. The performing arts center is a way to pump new energy, vibrancy, and opportunity into a district that has long been full of potential but underserved by sustained investment. It’s about recognizing not only what Downtown is, but what it could be for all of us.

Which brings us to Martineztown.

Yes, it was hit hard by urban renewal. And yes, it has every reason to fear displacement. But that fear must be matched with honesty. Martineztown has changed. Its population has declined. Many of the adult children of its leaders have moved. Some to the Westside, others out of state. Its identity is evolving, and denying its adjacency to Downtown doesn’t protect that identity. It erases the neighborhood’s opportunity to shape how it grows.

If anything, resisting inclusion in Downtown’s redevelopment map is what truly leaves the neighborhood vulnerable—at the mercy of market forces rather than proactive, equitable planning. Across the country, the neighborhoods that fight all change end up experiencing the most destabilizing, disempowering versions of it. That’s the paradox: You don’t preserve your character by freezing time. You preserve it by participating in what comes next.

And on a more basic level, the argument over two specific parcels—a drainage hole and a fast-food site—was an overreach. Just because a lot sits near your neighborhood does not mean you get to veto what happens there. Burqueños are increasingly tired of this obstructionist tendancy, and we are demanding our leaders to put a stop to it. The city was right to be sensitive to community concerns. But it was also right to let reason prevail.

It’s worth noting that both of these efforts—the Downtown investment package and the decision to include the Lomas-Broadway parcels in the redevelopment area—have been led by Councilor Joaquín Baca, who represents District 2. In a city where the loudest voices often attempt to drown out meaningful conversation, Baca deserves recognition for stepping into that noise with clarity, conviction, and a commitment to doing what’s best for the whole city. It takes courage to face down opposition that doesn’t always engage in good faith. He’s done so, and Albuquerque is better for it.

Albuquerque cannot let the loudest voices dictate policy, especially when those same voices have presided over decades of stagnation. If we want a Downtown that is vibrant, inclusive, and economically vital, we have to build it. And that means saying yes: to the tax, to the arts center, to housing, and to a Downtown worthy of the name.