NYC Parks Shakeup: Mamdani Bets on Shimamura to Reshape City Life

Paul Riverbank, 1/18/2026New Parks leader Tricia Shimamura aims to transform NYC’s green spaces and foster community bonds.

It’s easy to overlook how deeply parks are woven into the city’s fabric. Most locals have a patch of green they think of as “theirs,” whether it’s a playground nestled between apartment blocks or the comfortingly wild tangle of an urban forest. Mamdani, gesturing toward the open space that surrounded them, put it plainly but powerfully: these are far more than pleasant escapes. “Places like this,” he said, “are the creative core of our neighborhoods and the ties that bind so many lives together across this city.”

Naming Shimamura to oversee more than 30,000 acres of public space—including playgrounds, beaches, community gardens, and sports courts—carries considerable significance. You don’t need to be a city planner to grasp the scale. From Ebbets Field-era baseball diamonds in Brooklyn to the seaside stretches at Far Rockaway, parks in New York shape childhoods, offer solace, and serve as active gathering spots for just about everyone.

If you skim through Shimamura’s career to date, certain threads stand out: a willingness to get her hands dirty (sometimes literally), deep patience, and a commitment to underrepresented voices. After years managing parks operations in Manhattan, and prior stints in city government and higher education—she led voter access campaigns at Columbia University during the upheaval of the pandemic—Shimamura has seen the city’s needs up close. She speaks from personal experience, recalling swimming lessons for neighborhood kids in public pools, or parents congregating on the benches after school, swapping advice over steaming cups of coffee.

“I see our city’s parks as New Yorkers’ extended backyards,” Shimamura said, hinting at the blend of intimacy and responsibility that comes with caring for land that, by rights, belongs to everyone. These open spaces, she noted, are where children master the monkey bars and where recent immigrants play pickup soccer alongside longtime residents. Wander through any community garden in midsummer and you’ll overhear the conversations—sometimes in half a dozen languages—about tomatoes, city politics, or simply the weather.

Her path to this job wasn’t entirely smooth. Losing a closely fought City Council primary in 2021 might have signaled the end of some political careers, but Shimamura seemed to treat it as a learning experience, soon accepting the Manhattan borough commissioner post. There, she earned a reputation for balancing the bureaucracy’s demands with the messy realities of city life—a knack for respecting both process and people.

This transition also marked the end of an era, as Shimamura succeeds Iris Rodriguez-Rosa, a figure whose legacy looms large: a four-decade tenure, and notable as the first Latina to lead the department. Rodriguez-Rosa’s supporters cite her tireless advocacy for neighborhood green spaces; the mayor praised her service as “living proof that steadfast commitment can—quietly but powerfully—reshape a city.”

Rumors will always swirl online, especially in a city as opinionated as New York. But on the ground, at street level, the signs of change are concrete. Mayor Mamdani’s policies, and Shimamura’s record, suggest an administration that’s intent on expanding, rather than shrinking, opportunities for connection and recreation. The budget process ahead will put those intentions to the test.

As the snow continued to fall and the event wound down, parents shepherded children toward the swings, and a group of teenagers dashed off with a soccer ball, their laughter trailing behind them. For all the talk of policy and leadership, perhaps the most telling measure of success is this: whether every New Yorker—no matter the borough—feels their park is, in Shimamura’s words, “truly a place to feel at home.” In a city so often defined by its rapid pace and constant churn, keeping such spaces at the heart of civic life is no small ambition. But, as history shows, it’s these shared places that help New York sustain its sense of belonging—season after season, change after change.

A thin layer of snow dusted the lawns at High Bridge Park last weekend, muffling the city’s usual clamor. On this chilly day, Mayor Zohran Mamdani faced a small but attentive crowd—a group that reflected a cross-section of New Yorkers, bundled up in scarves and parkas. As he stepped forward, you could see in his expression that this moment meant more than mere ceremony. There, with the Harlem River glinting in the distance, he announced Tricia Shimamura's appointment as the new leader of New York City’s Department of Parks and Recreation.It’s easy to overlook how deeply parks are woven into the city’s fabric. Most locals have a patch of green they think of as “theirs,” whether it’s a playground nestled between apartment blocks or the comfortingly wild tangle of an urban forest. Mamdani, gesturing toward the open space that surrounded them, put it plainly but powerfully: these are far more than pleasant escapes. “Places like this,” he said, “are the creative core of our neighborhoods and the ties that bind so many lives together across this city.”Naming Shimamura to oversee more than 30,000 acres of public space—including playgrounds, beaches, community gardens, and sports courts—carries considerable significance. You don’t need to be a city planner to grasp the scale. From Ebbets Field-era baseball diamonds in Brooklyn to the seaside stretches at Far Rockaway, parks in New York shape childhoods, offer solace, and serve as active gathering spots for just about everyone.If you skim through Shimamura’s career to date, certain threads stand out: a willingness to get her hands dirty (sometimes literally), deep patience, and a commitment to underrepresented voices. After years managing parks operations in Manhattan, and prior stints in city government and higher education—she led voter access campaigns at Columbia University during the upheaval of the pandemic—Shimamura has seen the city’s needs up close. She speaks from personal experience, recalling swimming lessons for neighborhood kids in public pools, or parents congregating on the benches after school, swapping advice over steaming cups of coffee.“I see our city’s parks as New Yorkers’ extended backyards,” Shimamura said, hinting at the blend of intimacy and responsibility that comes with caring for land that, by rights, belongs to everyone. These open spaces, she noted, are where children master the monkey bars and where recent immigrants play pickup soccer alongside longtime residents. Wander through any community garden in midsummer and you’ll overhear the conversations—sometimes in half a dozen languages—about tomatoes, city politics, or simply the weather.Her path to this job wasn’t entirely smooth. Losing a closely fought City Council primary in 2021 might have signaled the end of some political careers, but Shimamura seemed to treat it as a learning experience, soon accepting the Manhattan borough commissioner post. There, she earned a reputation for balancing the bureaucracy’s demands with the messy realities of city life—a knack for respecting both process and people.This transition also marked the end of an era, as Shimamura succeeds Iris Rodriguez-Rosa, a figure whose legacy looms large: a four-decade tenure, and notable as the first Latina to lead the department. Rodriguez-Rosa’s supporters cite her tireless advocacy for neighborhood green spaces; the mayor praised her service as “living proof that steadfast commitment can—quietly but powerfully—reshape a city.”Rumors will always swirl online, especially in a city as opinionated as New York. But on the ground, at street level, the signs of change are concrete. Mayor Mamdani’s policies, and Shimamura’s record, suggest an administration that’s intent on expanding, rather than shrinking, opportunities for connection and recreation. The budget process ahead will put those intentions to the test.As the snow continued to fall and the event wound down, parents shepherded children toward the swings, and a group of teenagers dashed off with a soccer ball, their laughter trailing behind them. For all the talk of policy and leadership, perhaps the most telling measure of success is this: whether every New Yorker—no matter the borough—feels their park is, in Shimamura’s words, “truly a place to feel at home.” In a city so often defined by its rapid pace and constant churn, keeping such spaces at the heart of civic life is no small ambition. But, as history shows, it’s these shared places that help New York sustain its sense of belonging—season after season, change after change.