Building community

BY ERICA CICCARONE

hen people talk about unsung heroes,” says Terry Vo, “let me tell you — neighborhood associations.”

She’s recently completed her term as board president of Trimble Action Group — the volunteer-led organization made up of neighbors in the area historically known as Trimble Bottom. In 2005, neighbors voted to rename the neighborhood Chestnut Hill.

“ is is not a [homeowners association] where you’re paying into anything,” Vo says. “ is is for the love of community and the love of what you want for all your neighbors.”

Chestnut Hill is adjacent to Wedgewood-Houston, a neighborhood seeing one of the most aggressive makeovers in the city. Both are in the shadow of e Fairgrounds Nashville and in the middle of the debate over the proposed renovation of the racetrack. e District 17 area was the focus of an Urban Design Overlay that mobilized more neighbors to get involved with Metro’s planning process.

Vo is particularly proud of the way that TAG has supported neighborhood businesses, holding outings and hosting meetings in places like Suraj Spices, Fait la Force Brewing and Italian restaurant Il Forno. “For me,” Vo says, “it’s exploring what you have right in your neighborhood. Literally a block, two blocks away. … A book that I love by local author Tyler Merritt [called] I Take My Co ee Black talks about how proximity breeds empathy.” is, she says, takes interactions beyond transactions. “Really, we are all in this together. We are a community, and we can really lift each other up. A closer community really knows each other and cares for each other.”

It’s an area where lots of new residents and businesses are taking root, and this can cause a bit of an identity crisis for longtime residents. Vo felt this resistance when she joined TAG in 2017 shortly after moving to the neighborhood. Ultimately, she came to understand that a community like hers must honor its history while welcoming new ideas and people.

“I want my neighbor who lived here long before me to feel that respect and to feel that, ‘Hey, I’m being seen.’ And for new neighbors, how do we honor the history and bring everybody into 2023?”

Being that glue comes naturally to Vo. She’s rst-generation Vietnamese American and the daughter of immigrants who settled in Fort Cha ee, Ark., after the Vietnam War.

“It was Southern everything,” she says, “from sweet tea to church on Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night.”

Vo’s parents always encouraged her to nd her Vietnamese community. She can speak Vietnamese well enough to talk to her parents and get by in Vietnam, but she’s not uent. She worried that she wouldn’t be accepted in Vietnamese communities as an adult. Vo wasn’t alone in this. When she started talking with other local Asian people and Paci c Islanders in Nashville, she found a community of people who wanted to know more about their roots. Informal con- versations led to organizing events, and in 2020, Vo co-founded the nonpro t Asian and Paci c Islanders of Middle Tennessee. She now serves as the board president.

“ e biggest thing,” she says, “is providing the space for people to be known and to be seen.” API Middle Tennessee hosts community events, visits the state legislature and maintains a directory of local API-owned businesses. e group has also advocated for API Tennesseans during a time that has seen a rise in hostility and violence against API Americans.

“I’m so happy because maybe for someone younger, someone in their youth, they can start a lot earlier with their cultural connection and knowing that who they are is valued — and [that] they’re not half of anything,” Vo says. “You are not half Laotian; you are not half Chinese. You are 100 percent that, and you are 100 percent American. ... We all have our own experiences that we can bring, and sometimes, you just need to hear that from someone else to know you’re not alone.”