Last week, on a breezy afternoon in The Glebe, grown men crouched low in hand-built box carts — simple, bold, no frills. Spectators lined the road: parents, elders, passersby with phones in hand, recording and cheering as the races flew past. Laughter and applause filled the air. But so did something else — that quiet, electric sense of togetherness we don’t get enough of these days.
The karting races, part of the We Gatherin’ initiative, didn’t just make noise in The Glebe — they made waves across social media. One post alone drew over 4 200 likes and counting. People reposted, reminisced. “I remember racing down that hill,” one person wrote. “This is what Barbados used to feel like.” Another simply said, “We needed this.” It wasn’t just nostalgia. It was a kind of collective remembering — of what connection feels like, and how much we’ve missed it.
And the setting? It matters. The Glebe still has that village shape — field, polyclinic, church, corner shops, all within walking distance. These are the features of what urban designers call social infrastructure — the physical spaces that quietly hold our social lives together.
Barbados has lost much of that. Little by little, development has changed how we live — centralising services, removing green space, building for cars over people. When the cricket pitch goes, or the corner shop closes, something more than convenience is lost. We lose the small daily chances to connect, and in time, the sense of community frays.
That erosion feels even more urgent today. Barbados is facing a rise in gun violence and growing concern about public safety. The recent reinforcement of the police force reflects how serious things have become. But enforcement alone can’t build safety. True security begins with belonging, with people feeling seen, valued, and rooted. Culture and connection aren’t luxuries. They are part of what keeps a society whole.
That’s what The Glebe races reminded us. They weren’t just entertainment, they were cultural repair. An act of coming together, grounded in tradition and joy.
And they didn’t happen by chance. Events like this thrive when the right conditions exist: shared memory, accessible public space, and intentional design. That’s what thinkers at Stanford’s School of Social Innovation call designing for social systems — planning with an understanding of how people, spaces, and behaviours interact to shape community outcomes.
Design thinking can guide that approach. Rooted in empathy and iteration, it starts with listening to what people need and experience, and builds from there. It’s not just about programmes, but about shaping systems that allow communities to grow from the ground up.
But one good event is not a policy. The real challenge now is to build on this momentum. That means applying design thinking to public policy: starting with human needs, not bureaucratic defaults. It means investing in shared spaces, not just in short-term initiatives. And it means moving beyond the spectacle to the structure.
What we saw in The Glebe wasn’t just a race. It was a glimpse of what’s possible — of a Barbados where connection isn’t a throwback, but a future we design on purpose.
As the country approaches 60 years of independence, the celebrations should go deeper than fireworks and fanfare. This milestone calls for honest reflection and bold imagination. If we truly want strong communities and vibrant culture, we have to design for them: with care, with courage, and with people at the heart.
The post Why The Glebe’s karting races matter more than you think appeared first on Barbados Today.
