How I Tried to Prevent a Planning Disaster in Irvine

— The Story of an Architect, an Urban Planning Scholar, and an Ordinary Resident Who Became Involved in Irvine’s Public Affairs

Many people may not know that I once came very close to becoming a city planning scholar.

After earning my master’s degree from the School of Architecture at the University of Southern California (USC), I stayed at USC and continued my studies in the Urban Planning program, working toward a Ph.D.

By that time, I had completed all of my required coursework. I only needed to finish my dissertation, and I would have earned my doctorate.

But life often takes an unexpected turn just when you think everything has already been planned.

I found a job, and in order to establish my career and pursue my green card through employment, I took a leave of absence from the doctoral program and began working.

Several years later, I moved to Irvine and became a resident of the city.

I never imagined that several years after moving there, something would happen that would bring me back to many of the ideas I had studied in urban planning—and eventually lead me into the political arena of Irvine.

A Planning Decision That Concerned Me Deeply

Around 2014, the City of Irvine began pursuing plans for a Southern California Veterans Cemetery at the Orange County Great Park, on part of the former El Toro Marine Corps Air Station.

There was nothing inherently wrong with building a cemetery for veterans.

Veterans had served their country, and they deserved to be honored. They deserved a dignified, peaceful, and beautiful place where they and their families could remember and honor their service.

My question was never:

“Should we build a veterans cemetery?”

My question was:

“Where should such a large and important public facility be located?”

From an architectural and urban-planning perspective, those are two completely different questions.

In March 2014, the Irvine City Council passed a resolution expressing its support for providing at least 100 acres at the Great Park for a Southern California Veterans Cemetery. In July of that year, the City Council passed another resolution identifying approximately 125 acres of the ARDA site as the proposed location.

From my perspective as an architect and someone who had studied urban planning, the fundamental issue was not necessarily the project itself. It was the location and the public participation process.

How could a major public facility—one that could affect surrounding communities for generations—be planned without fully engaging the residents who lived nearby?

That does not mean residents should automatically get everything they ask for.

It means that residents should have an opportunity to understand the project, express their concerns, propose alternatives, and participate meaningfully in the decision-making process.

To me, that is one of the fundamental principles of modern urban planning.

A Book I Remembered From My Doctoral Studies

When I was studying urban planning at USC, I read a book that had a profound influence on the way I thought about large-scale planning projects: Peter Hall’s Great Planning Disasters.

The book examines a number of major planning and infrastructure projects and explores how ambitious projects can go wrong when political leaders, government agencies, planners, experts, and communities fail to properly address fundamental problems.

One of the lessons I took away from the book was this:

A planning disaster does not necessarily happen because someone deliberately makes a terrible decision. Sometimes it happens because a major decision is made without adequately considering different stakeholders, studying alternatives, or listening to the people who will ultimately live with the consequences.

So when I saw what was happening with the proposed veterans cemetery in Irvine, I had a strong feeling:

Could this eventually become a “Great Planning Disaster” for Irvine?

Of course, I did not know what would happen in the future.

But as someone trained in architecture and educated in urban planning, I understood one thing very clearly:

One of the greatest risks in urban planning is making a major decision about the wrong location and then discovering the problem only after millions of dollars have been spent, contracts have been signed, surrounding neighborhoods have been built, and the project becomes extremely difficult to change.

By then, it can be too late.

Why Were Some Residents Afraid to Speak Up?

By that time, Irvine's population had changed dramatically. The Asian American population had grown substantially, and many Asian families had moved into neighborhoods around the Great Park.

Some residents had cultural and personal concerns about having a large cemetery near their homes.

But what struck me at the time was how hesitant some people seemed to be about expressing those concerns publicly.

The political discussion often appeared overwhelmingly supportive of the veterans cemetery.

And there was an understandable reason for that.

Supporting veterans is a position that naturally commands tremendous public respect.

But that created a danger of oversimplifying the issue:

Supporting the cemetery could be portrayed as supporting veterans, while questioning the location could be interpreted as opposing veterans.

But those are two completely different things.

I repeatedly made the same point:

We can fully support our veterans while still asking whether a particular location is appropriate for a cemetery.

A resident who questions the location of a cemetery is not necessarily disrespecting veterans.

On the contrary, good urban planning should be capable of doing both:

Respecting our veterans and respecting the surrounding residents.

That is what a mature public discussion should be about.

I Began Speaking at City Council Meetings

So I began attending Irvine City Council meetings.

Again and again, I spoke publicly.

I was not a professional politician.

At that time, I was simply an architect, someone with a background in urban planning, and an Irvine resident who cared about the future of the city.

My questions were straightforward:

Why couldn't different locations be studied and compared?

Why couldn't surrounding residents be given a meaningful opportunity to express their views?

Why couldn't alternative sites be evaluated based on transportation, land use, environmental considerations, neighborhood impacts, long-term development, and other planning factors?

In fact, city documents from that period show that several potential locations had been considered, including the Great Park, Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station, Los Alamitos Joint Forces Training Center, Tustin Legacy, and Rancho Capistrano.

That reinforced my belief that the question should not simply be:

“Can we find a place to build it?”

The real question should be:

“What is the most appropriate place to build it?”

That is what planning is supposed to be about.

I Realized That Speaking Up Was Not Enough

Eventually, I realized something about local government:

As an ordinary resident, you can speak—but speaking does not necessarily mean you can change a decision.

Then an important political opportunity arose.

At the time, Irvine Mayor Steven Choi was preparing to run for the California State Senate, which created the possibility of a change in Irvine's mayoral leadership.

Some of us who cared deeply about this issue began discussing whether someone should run for mayor and bring these concerns directly into the political process.

But after talking about it, no one really wanted to run.

Then I thought:

If I believed this planning decision was important enough to challenge, why couldn't I do it?

If no one else was willing to step forward, perhaps I should.

So I decided to run for mayor of Irvine.

For me, it was a major decision.

I was not a professional politician, and I did not enter politics because I had a lifelong ambition to become a politician.

I simply believed:

If I think an important public policy issue deserves to be discussed, I should have the courage to put my position before the voters.

I Did Not Win the Election—But the Campaign Mattered

In 2016, I officially ran for mayor of Irvine.

I did not win.

According to the Orange County Registrar of Voters, I received approximately 14.5% of the vote, with other final statistical counts putting the figure at approximately 14.8%—essentially the “about 15%” that I remember.

I certainly did not become mayor.

But I did not consider the campaign a failure.

Running for office itself created another avenue for bringing an issue into the public conversation.

Before that, the issue had largely been discussed within City Hall and among various organizations and community groups.

As the controversy continued, more residents became involved.

More people attended public meetings.

Community organizations became active.

The issue received greater public attention.

And people began asking a fundamental question:

Where should a veterans cemetery actually be located?

That experience taught me something important:

Democracy is not only about winning elections.

Sometimes you run for office and do not win, but you put an issue on the public agenda. You encourage more people to participate. You force important questions into the open.

That can have an impact of its own.

The Final Outcome Was Better Than We Had Originally Imagined

Our original goal was actually fairly modest.

We were not necessarily trying to prevent a veterans cemetery from ever being built in Irvine.

What we hoped for was that, if the cemetery was going to be built at the Great Park, the city would at least reconsider the location and move it farther away from residential neighborhoods.

In other words, our “best-case scenario” was essentially:

Keep the cemetery in Irvine, but put it in a more appropriate location.

But the eventual outcome went even further than we had imagined.

Over the following years, Irvine considered a number of different locations and proposals, including the ARDA site, a proposed site near Bake Parkway and Strawberry Fields, and other potential locations.

In 2018, Measure B, which involved a proposed land exchange related to the cemetery, was rejected by Irvine voters.

Eventually, after years of controversy and discussion, Irvine did not proceed with building the veterans cemetery at the Great Park.

Instead, the project moved toward the Gypsum Canyon area in Anaheim Hills, outside Irvine.

In other words, what began with our hope of moving the cemetery to a better location within the Great Park eventually resulted in something that went beyond what we had originally imagined:

The proposed veterans cemetery was ultimately moved out of Irvine.

Of course, I would never claim that this outcome was caused by one person.

It was the result of many years of public debate, community activism, veterans' organizations, government decisions, land studies, elections, and negotiations involving many different people and interests.

But I am proud that I was one of the people who raised the planning and community-participation concerns early, continued to speak at City Council, and eventually brought those concerns into a mayoral election.

What I Learned From This Experience

Looking back, the most important question for me is not:

“Did I become mayor?”

The answer is no.

Nor is it:

“Did I win the election?”

Again, the answer is no.

What I learned was something much more important:

An ordinary citizen is not powerless.

If you believe a public policy decision is wrong or deserves further discussion, there are many ways to participate.

You can attend City Council meetings.

You can write to your elected representatives.

You can organize with your neighbors.

You can present alternative proposals.

You can speak to the media.

You can participate in public hearings.

And, if necessary, you can even run for office and put your ideas directly before the voters.

The voters ultimately decide whether they support you.

That is an important part of American local democracy.

Good Urban Planning Requires Listening to Different Voices

When I studied architecture, I often heard the idea that:

Architects should help change society.

An architect should not merely design attractive buildings.

Likewise, an urban planner should not merely draw attractive master plans.

Ultimately, urban planning is about people.

And people have different cultural backgrounds, experiences, values, priorities, and concerns.

A good plan does not necessarily mean that everyone gets exactly what they want. That is almost impossible.

What matters is that:

Before a major and potentially irreversible decision is made, different voices have an opportunity to be heard.

That was one of the most important lessons I took from studying urban planning and reading Great Planning Disasters.

Large planning projects can go wrong not simply because of the physical project itself, but because of the way decisions are made.

Do Not Be Afraid to Put Your Opinion on the Table

This experience also taught me another important lesson.

Many people live in America for years without becoming involved in local politics.

They may think:

“Politics has nothing to do with me.”

“What difference can one ordinary person make?”

“The city has already made the decision. What can we do about it?”

But public policy is made up of thousands of decisions that directly affect ordinary people's lives.

Where should a piece of land be developed?

Where should a road go?

Where should a park be located?

Where should a school be built?

How far should a major public facility be from residential neighborhoods?

These are not abstract political questions.

They affect our homes, our communities, our children, and our quality of life.

So when something genuinely matters to your community, I believe you should at least learn about it, study the facts, participate in the public discussion, and clearly express your views.

You may not be able to change the outcome.

You may not win an election.

Your proposal may not ultimately be adopted.

But if you never speak, people will never know what you think.

If you never participate, your voice will not be part of the decision-making process.

And if you have done everything you reasonably can and the final outcome is still not what you hoped for, you can at least say:

“I did my best.”

That may be the most important lesson I took away from running for mayor of Irvine.

I did not become the mayor of Irvine.

But I had the courage to bring an issue I believed was important into the public arena.

And when I look back on that experience today, I still believe:

A healthy city is not one where everyone agrees.

A healthy city is one where different voices have an opportunity to be heard.

That is what I believe as an architect, as someone who studied urban planning, and as a resident who cares deeply about Irvine.

A city belongs to all of its residents.

And public decisions should include the public.

我曾经试图阻止尔湾的一场规划“大灾难”

我曾经试图阻止尔湾的一场规划“大灾难”

——一个建筑师、城市规划学习者和普通居民参与尔湾公共事务的经历

很多人可能不知道，我曾经差一点成为一名城市规划博士。

从南加州大学建筑学院获得硕士学位以后，我继续留在USC，在城市规划系攻读博士学位。当时博士课程已经全部修完，只差完成博士论文，就可以拿到博士学位。

但是人生往往会在你以为已经规划好的时候突然改变方向。

后来，我找到了一份工作。为了通过工作解决身份和绿卡问题，我暂时离开了博士项目。几年以后，我搬到了尔湾，成为了一名真正意义上的尔湾居民。

我没有想到，后来发生的一件事情，会让我重新面对自己当年在城市规划系学习过的那些理论，并最终让我亲自走进尔湾的政治舞台。

一场让我非常不安的规划决定

大约在2014年前后，尔湾市开始推进在Orange County Great Park，也就是原El Toro Marine Corps Air Station旧址附近建设南加州退伍军人纪念公园和公墓。

这件事情本身其实没有什么值得反对的。

美国有大量退伍军人，他们为国家服役，理应得到尊重，也应该有一个庄严、安静、环境优美的长眠之地。

我真正关心的问题，从来不是：

“要不要给退伍军人建一个公墓？”

而是：

“这么一个规模巨大的公共设施，究竟应该建在哪里？”

这在城市规划上是两个完全不同的问题。

2014年3月，尔湾市议会通过Resolution 14-27，表达了愿意在Great Park提供至少100英亩土地建设南加州退伍军人公墓的强烈意愿。同年7月，市议会进一步通过Resolution 14-92，确定125英亩的ARDA地块作为拟议选址。(City of Irvine⁠)

从我这个建筑师和城市规划学习者的角度来看，我当时觉得这个决定最大的问题，不一定是项目本身，而是选址和公共参与的过程。

一个大型公共项目，尤其是一个可能影响周边社区几十年甚至上百年的项目，怎么能够不认真听取周边居民的意见？

这并不是说居民说什么政府就必须照做，而是说：

居民应该有机会充分了解项目、表达意见、提出替代方案，然后参与这个决定的过程。

这其实是现代城市规划最基本的原则之一。

我想起了博士阶段读过的一本书

我在USC城市规划系读博士的时候，曾经读过一本对我影响很大的书——Peter Hall的《Great Planning Disasters》。

这本书出版于University of California Press，作者研究了伦敦第三机场、伦敦高速公路、协和飞机、旧金山BART以及悉尼歌剧院等大型规划项目，并进一步分析政府官僚、政治人物、规划人员和社区之间的关系。(University of California Press⁠)

这本书给我的一个重要启示就是：

真正的规划灾难，很多时候并不是因为一个人故意做错了事情，而是因为一个重大决定在一开始没有充分考虑不同利益相关者的意见，没有认真研究替代方案，最后一步一步走进了一个很难回头的方向。

所以，当我看到尔湾Great Park的这个公墓选址问题时，我脑海里突然冒出了一个非常强烈的念头：

这会不会成为尔湾的一场“Great Planning Disaster”？

当然，我当时并不知道未来究竟会怎样。

但是作为一个学过建筑和城市规划的人，我知道，城市规划最怕的事情之一，就是一个大型项目在错误的位置上被确定下来以后，等到所有的钱都花了、所有的合同都签了、周围的社区也全部建起来以后，大家才发现：

原来这个地方并不适合。

到那个时候，再想改变，代价就会非常巨大。

当时很多居民为什么不敢说话？

那个时候，尔湾的人口结构已经发生了很大的变化。越来越多的亚裔家庭搬到尔湾生活，尤其是Great Park周边出现了大量新住宅。

一些居民对于在住宅附近建设大型公墓有文化、心理以及居住环境方面的顾虑。

但是，当时的公共讨论环境让我感觉非常奇怪。

在很多公开场合，支持建设退伍军人公墓的声音非常强大。

而且“支持退伍军人”本身当然是一个非常容易获得公众认同的立场。

于是，一个非常复杂的问题，很容易被简单化成：

支持公墓 = 支持退伍军人；
反对选址 = 反对退伍军人。

可是，这两件事情根本不是一回事。

我当时一直强调：

我们完全可以支持退伍军人，同时讨论公墓究竟应该建在哪里。

如果一个居民认为这个地点不合适，并不意味着这个居民不尊重退伍军人。

恰恰相反，一个好的城市规划应该能够同时做到两件事情：

尊重退伍军人，也尊重附近居民。

这才是一个成熟社会应该讨论的问题。

我开始一次又一次走进市议会

于是，我开始参加尔湾市议会的会议。

我在那里一次又一次地发表意见。

我并不是一个职业政治家。

我当时的身份非常简单：

我是建筑师，是城市规划的学习者，同时也是一个住在尔湾的居民。

我反复提出的问题也非常简单：

为什么不能把不同的选址拿出来比较？

为什么不能认真听取周边居民的意见？

为什么不能从城市规划、交通、环境、社区关系、长期发展等多个角度，对不同地点进行比较？

事实上，2014年市政府的相关材料本身也显示，当时曾经研究过包括Great Park、Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station、Los Alamitos Joint Forces Training Center、Tustin Legacy和Rancho Capistrano等不同地点。(City of Irvine⁠)

所以我越来越相信：

这个问题不是“有没有地方可以建”，而是“什么地方最合适”。

这就是规划。

可是，仅仅在市议会上发言还不够

我很快发现一个现实：

如果你只是一个普通居民，你可以发言，但你不一定能够改变决策。

于是，后来出现了一个非常重要的政治契机。

当时的尔湾市长Steven Choi准备参加加州参议院特别选举。如果他离开市长职位，市长职位就会出现变化。

我们这些对这个问题比较关心的人开始讨论：

是不是应该有人出来参加市长竞选，把这些居民关心的问题真正带到政治层面？

但是大家讨论来讨论去，没有人愿意站出来。

这个时候，我想：

如果我一直认为这个规划决定有问题，那么我不能只是在旁边抱怨。

如果没有人愿意站出来，那么为什么不能是我？

于是，我决定参加尔湾市长竞选。

这对我来说其实是一个很大的决定。

我不是职业政治家，也不是为了政治生涯才参加选举。

我只是觉得：

既然我认为一个公共政策问题值得讨论，那么我应该有勇气把自己的观点放到选民面前。

一场没有赢得选举，却让我收获很多的竞选

2016年，我正式参加了尔湾市长竞选。

最后，我没有当上市长。

根据橙县官方选举结果，我获得了10,671票，约14.5%；其他统计口径的最终数字约为14.8%，也就是我当时所说的“大约15%”。(OC Vote⁠)

从选举结果来说，我当然没有成功。

但是我并不认为这是一场失败。

因为参加竞选本身，就是一个让公共议题进入城市政治讨论的重要过程。

以前可能只有市议会里面的人在讨论这个问题。

后来，越来越多的居民开始讨论。

媒体开始报道。

社区开始组织。

居民开始参加市议会会议。

大家开始认真讨论：

退伍军人公墓应该建在哪里？

这时候我才更加深刻地体会到：

民主政治并不是只有“赢得选举”才算成功。

有时候，你参加一个选举，虽然没有得到足够的票数，但是你提出的问题进入了公众讨论，改变了议题的方向，推动了更多人参与，这本身也可能产生长期影响。

最后，事情的发展甚至超出了我们当初的预想

我们最初的想法其实并没有那么大。

当时我们并不是一定要把退伍军人公墓赶出尔湾。

我们最希望看到的是：

如果这个公墓一定要建在Great Park，那么至少应该重新考虑选址，把它放到距离住宅更远、对居民影响更小的地方。

换句话说，我们当时设想的“最好结果”，其实是：

公墓继续留在尔湾，但换一个更加合适的地点。

然而，事情最后的发展远远超出了我们当初的预想。

经过后来多年的争论，尔湾市先后讨论过ARDA、Bake Parkway/Strawberry Fields以及Great Park内原高尔夫球场等不同地点。2018年，涉及土地交换的Measure B在尔湾特别选举中以63%对37%被否决。(City of Irvine⁠)

到2021年，尔湾市议会最终没有在Great Park确定一个退伍军人公墓选址，并开始支持Orange County在Anaheim Hills的Gypsum Canyon建设退伍军人公墓。(Voice of OC⁠)

因此，从我当初最初提出的“这个选址需要重新讨论”，到最后公墓项目转向尔湾市以外的Gypsum Canyon，结果实际上比我们当初所设想的“换一个Great Park地点”还要彻底。

当然，必须说明的是，这个最终结果是经过多年政府决策、居民行动、退伍军人组织推动、土地研究以及多轮政治博弈形成的，并不能简单归因于某一个人。公开资料显示，这场争论持续了近十年，涉及多个不同选址和不同利益群体。(Los Angeles Times⁠)

而截至2026年，Gypsum Canyon项目已经进入进一步推进阶段。加州退伍军人事务部门在2025年向联邦VA提交了更新后的申请材料，2026年2月联邦VA接受了预申请并提供1000万美元项目资金。(Assembly Committee on Budget⁠)

我从这件事情中学到的最重要一课

回头看这段经历，我最大的感受不是：

“我当上市长了吗？”

答案当然是没有。

也不是：

“我在选举中赢了吗？”

答案同样是否定的。

我真正感受到的是：

一个普通人，如果认为一个公共政策决定存在问题，也不是完全没有办法。

你可以去市议会发言。

你可以写信给市议员。

你可以组织社区。

你可以向媒体表达意见。

你可以提出替代方案。

你甚至可以参加选举，把自己的观点直接放到选民面前。

最后，选民可以决定是否支持你。

这才是美国地方政治很重要的一部分。

城市规划最重要的不是“我认为正确”，而是让不同声音进入决策

我学建筑的时候，经常听到一句话：

Architects should change society.

建筑师不应该只是画漂亮的建筑。

城市规划师也不应该只是画漂亮的总平面图。

真正的城市规划，最终面对的是人。

而人有不同的文化背景、生活经验、价值观和利益。

一个优秀的规划，并不是让所有人都百分之百满意——这是几乎不可能做到的。

真正重要的是：

在做出不可逆或者影响巨大的决定之前，让不同的声音都有机会被听见。

这也是我当年读Peter Hall《Great Planning Disasters》时留下的一个深刻印象：大型规划项目之所以可能成为“灾难”，往往与决策过程本身有关，而不仅仅是最后建出来的东西。(University of California Press⁠)

不要害怕把自己的观点放到台面上

这件事情也让我明白了另外一个道理。

很多人在美国生活多年，却很少参与地方政治。

他们可能觉得：

“政治离我们很远。”

“我一个普通人说话有什么用？”

“市议会已经决定了，我们还能改变什么？”

“别人都支持，我一个人反对是不是不太好？”

但是公共政策恰恰是由这些一个个看起来很小的决定组成的。

一块土地建什么？

一条路怎么规划？

一个公园放在哪里？

一个学校建在哪里？

一个大型公共设施距离住宅多远？

这些问题最后都会影响普通人的生活。

所以，如果一个事情真正关系到自己的社区和生活，我认为至少应该了解它、研究它、参加公开讨论，并把自己的观点清楚地表达出来。

你不一定能够改变结果。

你也不一定能够赢得选举。

甚至你提出的方案最后也不一定被采纳。

但是，如果你从来不说话，别人甚至不知道你有什么意见。

如果你从来不参与，决策过程里就不会出现你的声音。

而一旦你认真做了自己能够做的事情，结果最终没有达到你的预期，那么至少你可以问心无愧地说：

“我已经尽力了。”

这也许就是我当年参加尔湾市长竞选以后，得到的最大收获。

我没有成为尔湾市长。

但是，我终于把一个我认为值得讨论的城市规划问题，放到了公众面前。

而多年以后，当我回头再看这段经历时，我仍然觉得：

一个城市真正健康的地方，不是所有人都同意同一个意见，而是不同意见都有机会被听见。

这也是我作为一个建筑师、城市规划学习者和尔湾居民，对这座城市最深的一份感情。

城市是大家的城市。

公共决策，也应该让公众参与。