From Research to Resonance: The Institute for AfroUrbanism’s Lauren Hood on Humanity’s Collective Consciousness
Portrait of Lauren courtesy of Valaurian Waller for BridgeDetroit.
By Julia Gamolina
Lauren Hood is a futurist, activist, and founder of the Institute for AfroUrbanism, an urban think tank exploring pathways to Black thriving across the diaspora. A Professor of Practice at the University of Michigan’s Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning, her work bridges community development, cultural heritage, and radical imagination.
Rooted in Detroit, Lauren’s vision is both practical and metaphysical, seeking to co-create futures that honor Black culture, channel ancestral wisdom, and inspire transformative possibilities across dimensions of time and space. In her interview with Julia Gamolina, Lauren talks about radical shifts, lived experiences, and our power to shape our future, advising those just starting their careers to trust in their own unique journey.
JG: I really love the mission of the Institute of AfroUrbanism — to explore what Black people can glean from past generations to help build the lives and communities they want today — and so excited to read your findings from the research you've done for the Black Thriving Index. Can you give us a little bit of a sneak peek into your findings?
LH: The work truly feels like a bridge between past, present, and future—a way to honor the wisdom of our ancestors while imagining new possibilities today. One of the most exciting evolutions has been a shift from simply defining Black thriving to understanding it as a dynamic, multidimensional process. Early on, I thought thriving could be articulated through traditional metrics like health, wealth, and stability. But as the work progressed, it became clear that thriving is more expansive. It’s not just about what we have achieved, acquired, or accomplished, but how we become.
This led me to the notion of Blacktualization, which I like to describe as the full embodiment of Black potential, creativity, and collective spirit. It’s about creating spaces where Black people can fully self-actualize, not in reaction to systemic oppression, but in an expression of our own values, traditions, and aspirations. The Black Thriving Index captures this by measuring intangibles like joy, connection, cultural rootedness, and imagination, alongside more tangible indicators of conventional success. The most inspiring findings come from moments when I witness this in action: Black joy that defies circumstance, traditions that reclaim space and identity, or the unapologetic creativity of someone fully stepping into their purpose.
Final student presentations at Newlab Detroit for the “Shifting the Planning Paradigm: A Movement from Revitalization to Reparations” class Lauren is teaching at Taubman College. Photo credit: Essence Deras, IAU Fellowship Manager.
Having been focused on the research since 2021, what are you most looking forward to doing with the Institute in 2025?
I’m most excited about putting these findings to work. One of our goals is to translate the Index into a toolkit that communities can use to co-create thriving ecosystems tailored to our own unique identities and aspirations. I also want to deepen our storytelling—sharing not just the data, but the human narratives behind it. And, as one of the key principles of AfroUrbanism is global exchange, I envision convening visionaries from across the diaspora to share strategies, stories, and ideas for collective liberation.
We’re rehabbing a church building in the North End neighborhood in Detroit for that exact purpose. Through an AfroUrbanist in Residence program we’ll be able to engage members of our constellation from around the world onsite at our home base. 2025 feels like the year we go from research to resonance—from theory to practice. I’m excited to see what unfolds as we continue building on this foundation of radical imagination and possibility.
Now let's go back a little bit — you studied marketing for your BA and community development for your Masters! Tell me about the why behind both degrees, and what you were hoping to do with each.
I’ve always believed that work should feel like a legacy in progress—something that not only fulfills you in the present but also ripples forward into the future. In high school, my vision was rooted in music and its ability to shape culture, tell stories, and connect people. I thought marketing could be my way into that world, to amplify the voices and creativity that would define the future. I stayed in Detroit on a track scholarship, at a university I hadn’t imagined for myself, but ultimately Detroit was a seedbed for learning about resilience, reinvention, and possibility. By the time I reached my 30s, I’d spent years working in the music industry and marketing. The work started out thrilling but as the industry evolved, I found myself untethered from the purpose I’d originally sought.
Around the same time, I began thinking more about Detroit. The headlines were bleak, but I felt an inexplicable pull toward the city as something raw, alive, and still unfolding. That’s what led me to the Masters in Community Development program. For the first time, I found a space where work wasn’t about selling an idea or product but about shaping futures. I learned that you don’t start with a blank slate—you start with the stories, the culture, and the strengths already present and then you imagine what’s possible. It felt like a paradigm shift: the future wasn’t something to chase; it was something we could co-create, right here in the present, rooted in what was already thriving beneath the surface.
“. . . you don’t start with a blank slate—you start with the stories, the culture, and the strengths already present and then you imagine what’s possible.”
Tell me about your most formative professional experiences before founding the Institute and joining the Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning. What did you learn that you still apply today?
I was the inaugural director of a community development corporation, Live6 Alliance. Here, I learned that transformative change doesn’t happen on a political timeline but instead requires patience, persistence, and an unwavering commitment to the long game. At Loveland Technologies, stepping into the startup world showed me that you don’t need to be a big institution to create something meaningful. If you have a clear vision and the courage to act, you can build frameworks for change that challenge the status quo.
Deep Dive Detroit, my first consultancy alter ego, taught me to fully embrace the value of my lived experience. It was the first time I realized that the knowledge and perspective I carry—rooted in my culture, my specific journey, and my unique lens—are assets people not only need but are willing to invest in. Together, these experiences taught me that every piece of the journey, even the messy parts, matters. They remind me that the work we’re here to do isn’t about fitting into someone else’s mold—it’s about building things from our own truth with confidence, vision, and love.
How did the Institute originally come about?
The Institute for AfroUrbanism was born out of a deep, internal call to address the gap between where Black folks are now and where we could be. For years, I observed how urban spaces—specifically those meant for us—were either designed without consideration for our thriving or, worse, created in ways that stifled it.
It became clear that in order to unlock the futures that we deserve, we would need to create a platform that serves as both a resource and an invitation. I was inspired by the idea that culture and heritage are not just relics of our past but living forces that have the power to help us manifest our most abundant and audacious futures.
Images above: Students from the “Shifting the Planning Paradigm: A Movement from Revitalization to Reparations” class in conversation with Bryce Detroit, Creator of “Hood Closed to Gentrifiers,” at the Garage in the North End neighborhood. Photo credit: Essence Deras, IAU Fellowship Manager.
Looking back at it all, what have been the biggest challenges? How did you both manage through perceived disappointments or setbacks?
Looking back, the biggest challenges I faced were the limiting beliefs I had about what a Black person could do, what a woman could do, what a native Detroiter could do, or what someone without a certain pedigree could do. Once I released those constraints, everything shifted.
I’ve had ideas that didn’t come to fruition, but I see them as part of the journey. Putting work into the world at all is already a success. When my contract wasn’t renewed at a nonprofit development organization, it wasn’t a setback—it was the freedom I needed to build my own institution. Similarly, when I was denied loan funding for a venue concept just before COVID, the rejection became a blessing, allowing my institute to purchase a building outright, in 2022, with grant funds. This gave me the freedom to manifest my vision without the burden of debt!
Finally, a key part of my work has been connecting with like-minded AfroUrbanists across the diaspora, traveling internationally to build a constellation of collaborators who share my vision. My institute is cultivating a community that is redefining how we think about space, identity, and our collective future. I could never have done that in my previous roles. What looked like a setback at the time looks like a “set up” today!
“This work is about more than just creating better spaces; it’s about powering a paradigm shift that contributes to humanity reaching its fullest potential.”
What have you also learned in the last six months?
I’ve been profoundly shaped by two transformational initiatives: the Corps D’Afrique fellowship program at the Institute and the “Shifting the Planning Paradigm” reparative justice class I’m teaching at Taubman College. The fellowship program has been a living testament to the power of collective intelligence. Together with our fellows—ranging from artists to coders, farmers to philanthropists—we’re delving into what it truly means for Black folks to thrive, not in isolation, but in interconnected ways that ripple across the diaspora. It’s taught me that the answers we seek won’t be uncovered in boardrooms or conventional policy papers—they’re alive in the people, the culture, and our lived experiences.
In parallel, the reparative justice class has pushed us to imagine how our communities might transform when we honor our communal sovereignty, create alternative economies that center collective well-being, and plan frameworks that hold repair as their core principle. Through site visits, oral histories, and dialogues with our fellows on the ground, the students and I have come to see the profound opportunity and responsibility that urban planning and planners hold in shaping cities of abundant well-being.
Who are you admiring now and why?
Right now, I’m in awe of Rasheedah Phillips of Black Quantum Futurism. She seamlessly connects physics, culture, and Black liberation, reshaping the perception of Black women as intellectuals in disciplines where we’ve historically been excluded. Knowing that her work is being recognized on global stages like CERN makes me feel inspired and affirmed in ways I didn’t know were possible.
I’m also deeply inspired by Regan Hillyer and the speakers in the Mindvalley network. Regan, in particular, has built a globally transformative empire at such a young age, helping to create conscious millionaires and elevate people to their fullest potential. What captivates me most is her ability to integrate personal growth, spiritual alignment, and financial empowerment—she makes success a holistic experience.
Lauren and students in her “Shifting the Planning Paradigm” reparative justice class visit Detroit’s historic Black Bottom neighborhood that was displaced for the construction of a highway during urban renewal efforts. Photo credit: Essence Deras, IAU Fellowship Manager.
What is the impact you’d like to have on the world? What is your core mission? And what does success in that look like to you?
I aspire to see more Black people operating on an actualization frequency—a state of continuous growth, alignment, and self-realization. My mission is to inspire a shift in humanity’s collective consciousness, starting with how we understand and transform the spaces we inhabit. The divisions inscribed into our physical and social environments—whether racial, economic, or cultural—are manifestations of deeper, often unseen paradigms that hinder our collective evolution. By reimagining how we design and occupy our spaces, we can move beyond these barriers and create conditions that spark communal actualization. This shift isn’t just about physical space but a deeper, metaphysical reorientation.
Ultimately, success is about the extent to which we recognize our own agency and actively contribute to shaping the future. My role is to inspire that recognition—to reflect the strength and potential we have both individually and communally, that helps us manifest our wildest dreams for the future. This work is about more than just creating better spaces; it’s about powering a paradigm shift that contributes to humanity reaching its fullest potential.
Finally, what advice do you have for those starting their career? Would your advice be any different for women?
Trust in your own unique journey. I would offer Joseph Campbell’s advice to “follow your bliss” and align with what feels authentic to you. Somewhere there is an existing need for what specifically you bring to the table—whether you can see it now or not. What you offer is needed, and it will find its place.
Also, remember that work doesn’t have to be hard. It can be pleasurable, fulfilling, and nourishing. You don’t have to sacrifice joy or your well-being to succeed. In fact, the more you allow yourself to enjoy what you do and how you do it, the more it will resonate with others and bring you closer to what your highest self is here to contribute. Your work can be a source of both growth and pleasure, and it will have the power to shift the world when you do it from an authentic place.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.