Transforming passive presence into situational intelligence.

By Valeria Lorenzelli

 What words do you use to describe the places in your city?

I have a confession to make: I have a deep aversion to the word "periphery". It’s a subtle, almost imperceptible irritation. Every time I hear someone use it to describe parts of my city or others, I find myself wondering what hidden assumptions they are unconsciously trying to uphold.

Over time, I've come to realise it’s a term that conceals an implicit hierarchy of value; a division that goes far beyond simple urban geography. The "periphery" is never just a physical location. It is a social construct, laden with judgment. It carries a default narrative of marginality and lack; a distance that is not just physical but cultural and moral, from a supposed "centre" of greater importance.

The Hidden Power of Words

In my work with placemaking, I've learned that places are also stories. They are collective narratives that define how we see spaces, how we live in them, how we invest in them, and even how we build public policies to transform them. The words we choose to describe places are just that—a choice. And for that reason, they are never neutral.

When we label a neighbourhood as "run-down," "at-risk," or a "dormitory suburb," we are building a narrative that influences perceptions, policy decisions, and the very sense of belonging for those who live there every day. As Henri Lefebvre, the theorist of "spatial justice," wrote: "Urban space is not a neutral container, but a social product that reflects power relations". And language is one of the most potent tools through which these power relations are expressed and perpetuated.

Labelling a neighbourhood as "the periphery" is like a bully giving a classmate a demeaning nickname. The nickname doesn't actually describe the person, but it creates a narrative that weakens them, one that others accept without question. Over time, this label affects how others see them, and even how they start to see themselves. In the same way, defining a neighbourhood with negative labels builds a narrative that impacts both external perception and the identity of those who live there.

The use of the word "periphery" by some media outlets, especially those focused on crime reporting, is particularly problematic. These outlets tend to overuse the term to generalise and quickly sketch out troubling situations. In doing so, they trigger an unconscious apprehension in the reader or, conversely, a sense of privilege derived from feeling distant from such realities.

While it is difficult to precisely quantify the extent of this phenomenon, reports from the Osservatorio di Pavia, initiatives by the Bracco Foundation (like the 'Ten, One Hundred, One Thousand Centres' conference), and studies by Save the Children all confirm a structural problem: the media and social narrative of the peripheries often focuses on deprivation, decay, and marginality. The result is that the opportunities, resources, and development potential present in these areas are obscured.

As Save the Children points out in its 'Atlas of Children at Risk':

"One of the problems for children and young people in the Italian peripheries is the mental laziness with which we have, for decades, continued to represent the contexts where they are born and grow up. Headline after headline, image after image, we have helped create indelible labels that stick to them, fuelling anger and frustration. While the reputation of some neighbourhoods risks branding the aspirations and dreams of many young people, the term 'periphery' is used so obsessively that it has almost lost all meaning."

This selective portrayal creates what the urban sociologist Loïc Wacquant calls "territorial stigma". This is a process where the negative public image of these neighbourhoods becomes impressed upon both the public consciousness and state policies, fuelling prejudice and fear. It triggers a vicious cycle where media stigma reinforces social isolation and economic disinvestment.

The Voice of the Inhabitants

A fundamental aspect, often overlooked, is the impact these narratives have on those who live in the territories labelled as "peripheries". When we listen to the inhabitants, a complex and ambivalent relationship with these external narratives emerges.

On one hand, we find a strong identification with their area and a sense of community that is often more intense than elsewhere, sometimes accompanied by an internalisation of that stigma. On the other, this awareness can also generate proactivity, positive action, and the strength to act authentically and assert their right to self-determination.

This is a significant problem for adolescents, who are still defining their own identities and could end up self-limiting their potential. Those who live in stigmatised contexts may internalise the idea that they live in a place of lesser value or with fewer opportunities, to the point of giving up on seeking future possibilities.

As a professional working in these communities, what I find most important is that this one-dimensional narrative offers no support to people and opens no doors for improvement.

A New Lexicon for Our Communities

This awareness led to my playbook, "#1Post.t: Words That Map Places": a guide to language for describing neighbourhoods that overcomes stereotypes and prejudices, and helps us see our communities with fresh eyes. This playbook offers concrete tools and new ways of seeing and speaking about contemporary urban complexity in its entirety, moving beyond the oversimplifications that often characterise public debate.

Take, for example, the expression "dormitory suburb". This term reduces an entire community to its residential function, as if it were fundamentally true that people only return there to sleep, living their "real" daily lives elsewhere. A more balanced narrative would instead acknowledge the social relationships, the small businesses, and all the elements that make up the daily life of a neighbourhood. Terms like "neighbourhood network" highlight the bonds between residents, while "neighbourhood ecosystem" illuminates the complex social and economic dynamics. Even definitions like "housing context," "urban structure," or "urban fabric" offer a more complete picture and avoid devaluing the place. Or, we can simply call it a "neighbourhood" and let the events and stories of those who live there define its identity.

Developing a more precise vocabulary, therefore, means critically questioning the categories we use to interpret these territories. It means recognising their intrinsic complexity and the multiple identities that characterise them, beyond reductive frameworks.

It's crucial to clarify and acknowledge the limits of our language, because this allows us to move past the simple existence of fragile situations. In fact, when an area is genuinely experiencing social vulnerability or violence, the very first step towards authentic change is to restore dignity to that place through respectful language.

"A problem well-stated is a problem half-solved." — Charles Kettering

A truly transformative approach begins with a change in perspective. We must see these places as territories with their own identities, clearly define the problem, fully understand their specific resources and potential, and effectively tackle any challenge.

Ultimately, the vocabulary we use to describe our communities is a matter of territorial justice. Abandoning the binary logic of centre/periphery means embracing a polycentric vision of our cities, where every neighbourhood is valued for its uniqueness, not measured by its distance from a supposed centre.

Download the "Words That Map Places" playbook to begin your journey towards a more conscious use of territorial language. Whether you are a communicator, a public administrator, a professional, or simply someone interested in seeing your city with fresh eyes, this guide offers concrete tools for a communication style that is more respectful of the complexity of our communities.

So, what words do you use to describe the places in your city?