Category: Analysis

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Tracy Gleason, Professor of Psychology, Wellesley College

The coach, the specialized equipment, the carefully tailored exercise regimen – they’re all key to athletic performance. But imagination might be an unexpected asset when it comes to playing sports.

The idea that athletic achievement depends on the mind isn’t new. Sport psychologists have known for years that working with an athlete on their mental game – visualizing the skill, kinesthetically feeling the swing – has a positive impact on actual performance. But these mental simulations draw only upon mental imagery – seeing and feeling the physical goals in the mind’s eye. Imagination offers a much wider range of possibilities.

What if your game could be helped by an imaginary friend?

In a recent retrospective study of college students, we discovered that imagination comes in handy in athletics in ways that are surprisingly social. The creation of what we termed imaginary athletes – a person or being that a child imagined in the context of athletics – enabled and motivated athletic play, especially for children between the ages of about 6 and 12. Imaginary athletes also provided companionship during athletic play.

Remembering childhood imaginary athletes

The most basic form of an imaginary athlete might be a wall, fence or even tree that makes a good opponent in a pinch. For a child or adolescent practicing a sport alone, a surface that provides a ball return or a steady target for a throw gives opportunities for practice usually requiring other players.

Is it any wonder, then, if the branches of the tree start to resemble a wide receiver’s arms, or an invisible goalie emerges in front of the fence? Solitary play might be a lot more fun if a make-believe teammate could provide an assist, or an invisible coach could appear and shout instructions during practice.

The college students in our study reported that such support, even if imaginary, made them play a little longer or try a little harder as kids.

About 41% of our sample of 225 college students reported creating at least one imaginary athlete at some point in middle childhood or early adolescence. Most, but not all, of these beings fell into three categories based on their characteristics.

The first we called placeholders, such as ghost runners. They are typically generic, amorphous, imaginary teammates created by groups of children when not enough real players are available.

The second type functioned as what we named athletic tools. They helped kids focus on their performance and improve their skills, usually by providing a worthy competitor, sometimes based on an admired professional athlete. The skills of athletic tools were often just above those of the child, drawing out the desire to be better, stronger, faster.

Social relationships, our name for the third kind of imaginary athlete, primarily served emotional functions, relieving loneliness and providing the child or adolescent with a sense of belonging, safety or companionship as they engaged in their sport.

Students who remembered imaginary athletes differed from their peers in two ways. First, more men than women reported creating these imaginary beings, possibly owing to the greater investment in and importance of athletics among boys versus girls. Second, people with imaginary athletes scored higher than those without on a current-day measure of predilection for imagination, but they were not more likely to report having created a make-believe friend or animal as a child.

Imagination is a valuable power

Creating an imaginary other might seem like a quirky, perhaps even childish, addition to sports practice. But actually, this behavior is entirely logical. After all, imagination is the core of human thought. Without it, we couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of the present moment that wasn’t already stored in memory. No thinking about the future, no consideration of multiple outcomes to a decision, no counterfactuals, daydreams, fantasies or plans.

Why wouldn’t people apply such a fundamental tool of day-to-day thought in athletic contexts? Participation in sports is common, especially among school-age kids, and many college students in our study described drawing upon their imaginations frequently when playing sports, especially when doing so in their free time.

The creation of imaginary athletes is also unsurprising because it’s one of myriad ways that imagination enhances people’s social worlds throughout their lives. Above all else, social relationships are what matter most to people, and using imagination in thinking about them is common. For instance, people imagine conversations with others, particularly those close to them, sometimes practicing the delivery of bad news or envisioning the response to a proposal of marriage.

In early childhood, kids create imaginary companions who help them learn about friendship and other’s perspectives. And in adolescence, when people focus on developing their autonomy and their own identities, they create parasocial relationships that let them identify with favorite celebrities, characters and media figures. Even in older age, some widows and widowers imagine continued relationships with their deceased spouses. These “continuing bonds” are efforts to cope with loss through imaginary narratives that are fed by and extrapolate upon years of interactions.

At each point in their developmental trajectory, people might recruit imagination to help them understand, manage, regulate and enjoy the social aspects of life. Imaginary athletes are merely one manifestation of this habit.

Because so many children and adolescents spend a lot of time engaged in sports, athletics can be a major environment for working on the developmental tasks of growing up. As children learn about functioning as part of a group, forming, maintaining and losing friendships, and mastering a range of skills and abilities, imaginary athletes provide teammates, coaches and competitors tailored to the needs of the moment.

Of course, an imaginary athlete is but one tool that children and adolescents might use to address developmental tasks such as mastering skills or negotiating peer relationships. Children who aren’t fantasy-prone might create complex training regimens to practice their skills, and they might manage their friendships by talking through problems with others.

But some report that turning inward generated real athletic and social benefits. “I got confidence out of my [imaginary athletes],” reported one participant. “If I could imagine beating someone, and [winning], then I felt like I could do anything.”

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Imaginary athletes: Creating make-believe teammates, competitors and coaches during play – https://theconversation.com/imaginary-athletes-creating-make-believe-teammates-competitors-and-coaches-during-play-254879

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Younes Ben Zaied, Full Professor in Finance, EDC Paris Business School

The Trump administration is decreasing the attention federal regulators pay to pipeline leaks. But leaks from natural gas pipelines don’t just waste energy and warm the planet – they can also make the air more dangerous to breathe. That air pollution threat grows not just in the communities where the leaks happen but also as far as neighboring states, as our analysis of gas leaks and air pollution levels across the U.S. has found.

For instance, in September 2018 the Merrimack Valley pipeline explosion in Massachusetts, which released roughly 2,800 metric tons of methane, damaged or destroyed about 40 homes and killed one person. We found that event caused fine-particle air pollution concentrations in downwind areas of New Hampshire and Vermont to spike within four weeks, pushing those areas’ 2018 annual average up by 0.3 micrograms per cubic meter. That’s an increase of about 3% of the U.S. EPA’s annual health standard for PM2.5. Elevated air pollution then showed up in New York and Connecticut through the rest of 2018 and into 2019.

In our study, we examined pipeline leak data from the U.S. Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration from 2009 to 2019 and data about the state’s level of small particulate matter in the air from Columbia University’s Center for International Earth Science Information Network. We also incorporated, for each state, data on environmental regulations, per-capita energy consumption, urbanization rate and economic productivity per capita.

In simple terms, we found that in years when a state – or its neighboring states – experienced more methane leak incidents, that state’s annual average fine-particle air pollution was measurably higher than in years with fewer leaks.

Methane’s role in fine‑particle formation

Natural gas is primarily made of methane, a powerful greenhouse gas. But methane also helps set off chemical reactions in the air that lead to the formation of tiny particles known as PM2.5 because they are smaller than 2.5 micrometers (one ten-thousandth of an inch). They can travel deep into the lungs and cause health problems, such as increasing a person’s risk of heart disease and asthma.

The role of methane in exacerbating air pollution is well researched. In short, when methane is released into the atmosphere, it reacts with other chemicals that are already there, such as nitrogen oxides and volatile organic compounds. Often, sunlight triggers these reactions, which then form a type of fine particulate matter called “secondary organic aerosols,” which make up between 20% and 50% of total ambient PM2.5 mass.

So, when natural gas leaks, energy is wasted, the planet warms and air quality drops. These leaks can be massive, like the 2015 Aliso Canyon disaster in California, which sent around 100,000 metric tons of methane into the atmosphere.

But smaller leaks are also common, and they add up, too: Because the federal database systematically undercounts minor releases, we estimate that undocumented small leaks in the U.S. may total on the order of 15,000 metric tons of methane per year – enough to raise background PM2.5 by roughly 0.1 micrograms per cubic meter in downwind areas. Even this modest increase can contribute to health risks: There is no safe threshold for PM2.5 exposure, with each rise of 1 microgram per cubic meter linked to heightened mortality from cardiovascular and respiratory diseases.

Preventing leaks to protect climate and health

The most direct way to reduce this problem is to reduce the number and quantity of methane leaks from pipelines. This could include constructing them in ways or with materials or processes that are less likely to leak. Regulations could create incentives to do so or require companies to invest in technology to detect methane leaks quickly, as well as encourage rapid responses when a leak is identified, even if it appears relatively small at first.

Reducing pipeline leaks would not just conserve the energy that is contained in the methane and reduce the global warming that results from increasing amounts of methane in the atmosphere. Doing so would also improve air quality in communities that are home to pipelines and in surrounding areas and states.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Methane leaks from gas pipelines are a hidden source of widespread air pollution – https://theconversation.com/methane-leaks-from-gas-pipelines-are-a-hidden-source-of-widespread-air-pollution-257786

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Boluwatife S. Olubusoye, Ph.D. Candidate in Chemistry, University of Mississippi

Every few years, the tires on your car wear thin and need to be replaced. But where does that lost tire material go?

The answer, unfortunately, is often waterways, where the tiny microplastic particles from the tires’ synthetic rubber carry several chemicals that can transfer into fish, crabs and perhaps even the people who eat them.

We are analytical and environmental chemists who are studying ways to remove those microplastics – and the toxic chemicals they carry – before they reach waterways and the aquatic organisms that live there.

Microplastics, macro-problem

Millions of metric tons of plastic waste enter the world’s oceans every year. In recent times, tire wear particles have been found to account for about 45% of all microplastics in both terrestrial and aquatic systems.

Tires shed tiny microplastics as they move over roadways. Rain washes those tire wear particles into ditches, where they flow into streams, lakes, rivers and oceans.

Along the way, fish, crabs, oysters and other aquatic life often find these tire wear particles in their food. With each bite, the fish also consume extremely toxic chemicals that can affect both the fish themselves and whatever creatures eat them.

Some fish species, like rainbow trout, brook trout and coho salmon, are dying from toxic chemicals linked to tire wear particles.

Researchers in 2020 found that more than half of the coho salmon returning to streams in Washington state died before spawning, largely because of 6PPD-Q, a chemical stemming from 6PPD, which is added to tires to help keep them from degrading.

But the effects of tire wear particles aren’t just on aquatic organisms. Humans and animals alike may be exposed to airborne tire wear particles, especially people and animals who live near major roadways.

In a study in China, the same chemical, 6PPD-Q, was also found in the urine of children and adults. While the effects of this chemical on the human body are still being studied, recent research shows that exposure to this chemical could harm multiple human organs, including the liver, lungs and kidneys.

In Oxford, Mississippi, we identified more than 30,000 tire wear particles in 24 liters of stormwater runoff from roads and parking lots after two rainstorms. In heavy traffic areas, we believe the concentrations could be much higher.

The Interstate Technology and Regulatory Council, a states-led coalition, in 2023 recommended identifying and deploying alternatives to 6PPD in tires to reduce 6PPD-Q in the environment. But tire manufacturers say there’s no suitable replacement yet.

What can communities do to reduce harm?

At the University of Mississippi, we are experimenting with sustainable ways of removing tire wear particles from waterways with accessible and low-cost natural materials from agricultural wastes.

The idea is simple: Capture the tire wear particles before they reach the streams, rivers and oceans.

In a recent study, we tested pine wood chips and biochar – a form or charcoal made from heating rice husks in a limited oxygen chamber, a process known as pyrolysis – and found they could remove approximately 90% of tire wear particles from water runoff at our test sites in Oxford.

Biochar is an established material for removing contaminants from water due to its large surface area and pores, abundant chemical binding groups, high stability, strong adsorption capacity and low cost. Wood chips, because of their rich composition of natural organic compounds, have also been shown to remove contaminants. Other scientists have also used sand to filter out microplastics, but its removal rate was low compared with biochar.

We designed a biofiltration system using biochar and wood chips in a filter sock and placed it at the mouth of a drainage outlet. Then we collected stormwater runoff samples and measured the tire wear particles before and after the biofilters were in place during two storms over the span of two months. The concentration of tire wear particles was found to be significantly lower after the biofilter was in place.

The unique elongated and jagged features of tire wear particles make it easy for them to get trapped or entangled in the pores of these materials during a storm event. Even the smallest tire wear particles were trapped in the intricate network of these materials.

Using biomass filters in the future

We believe this approach holds strong potential for scalability to mitigate tire wear particle pollution and other contaminants during rainstorms.

Since biochar and wood chips can be generated from agricultural waste, they are relatively inexpensive and readily available to local communities.

Long-term monitoring studies will be needed, especially in heavy traffic environments, to fully determine the effectiveness and scalability of the approach. The source of the filtering material is also important. There have been some concerns about whether raw farm waste that has not undergone pyrolysis could release organic pollutants.

Like most filters, the biofilters would need to be replaced over time – with used filters disposed of properly – since the contaminants build up and the filters degrade.

Plastic waste is harming the environment, the food people eat and potentially human health. We believe biofilters made from plant waste could be an effective and relatively inexpensive, environmentally friendly solution.

Boluwatife S. Olubusoye received partial funding from the Center for Biodiversity and Conservation Research (CBCR) at the University of Mississippi

James V Cizdziel received funding from the National Science Foundation (MRI Grant #2116597) for the instrument used to analyze samples for microplastics.

– ref. One of the biggest microplastic pollution sources isn’t straws or grocery bags – it’s your tires – https://theconversation.com/one-of-the-biggest-microplastic-pollution-sources-isnt-straws-or-grocery-bags-its-your-tires-259440

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Camille Banger, Assistant Professor in Business Information Technology, University of Wisconsin-Stout

The tech world says generative artificial intelligence is essential for the future of work and learning. But as an educator, I still wonder: Is it really worth bringing it into the classroom? Will these tools truly help students learn, or create new challenges we haven’t yet faced?

Like many other people in higher education, I was skeptical but knew I couldn’t ignore it. So, instead of waiting for all the answers, I decided to dive in and discover what preparing students for an AI-powered world really means beyond the hype. Last semester, I developed a business technology class where the latest generative AI tools were woven into the curriculum.

What I found is that AI productivity products have a learning curve, much like other applications that students, and ultimately white-collar workers, use in knowledge work. But I needed to adjust how I taught the class to emphasize critical thinking, reflection on how these tools are being used and checks against the errors they produce.

The project

It’s no secret that generative AI is changing how people work, learn and teach. According to the 2025 McKinsey Global Survey on AI, 78% of respondents said their organizations use AI in at least one business function, and many are actively reskilling their workforce or training them with new skills to meet the demands of this shift.

As program director of the Business Information Technology bachelor’s degree program at the University of Wisconsin-Stout, Wisconsin’s polytechnic university, I spend a lot of time thinking about how to prepare students for the workplace. I’m also an AI enthusiast, but a skeptical one. I believe in the power of these tools, but I also know they raise questions about ethics, responsibility and readiness.

So, I asked myself: How can I make sure our students are ready to use AI and understand it?

In spring 2025, University of Wisconsin-Stout launched a pilot for a small group of faculty and staff to explore Microsoft 365 Copilot for business. Since it works alongside tools such as Word, Excel, Outlook, PowerPoint, OneDrive and Teams, which are products our students already use, I saw an opportunity to bring these latest AI features to them as well.

To do that, I built an exploratory project into our senior capstone course. Students were asked to use Copilot for Business throughout the semester, keep a journal reflecting on their experience and develop practical use cases for how AI could support them both as students and future professionals. I didn’t assign specific tasks. Instead, I encouraged them to explore freely.

My goal wasn’t to turn them into AI experts overnight. I wanted them to build comfort, fluency and critical awareness about how and when to use AI tools in real-world contexts.

What my students and I learned

What stood out to me the most was how quickly students moved from curiosity to confidence.

Many of them had already experimented with tools such as ChatGPT and Google Gemini, but Copilot for Business was a little different. It worked with their own documents, emails, meeting notes and class materials, which made the experience more personal and immediately relevant.

In their journals, students described how they used Copilot to summarize Teams video meetings, draft PowerPoint slides and write more polished emails. One student said it saved them time by generating summaries they could review after a meeting instead of taking notes during the call or rewatching a recording. Another used it to check their assignment against the rubric – a scoring tool that outlines the criteria and performance levels for assessing student work – to help them feel more confident before submitting their work.

Several students admitted they struggled at first to write effective prompts – the typed requests that guide the AI to generate content – and had to experiment to get the results they wanted. A few reflected on instances where Copilot, like other generative AI tools, produced inaccurate or made-up information, or hallucinations, and said they learned to double-check its responses. This helped them understand the importance of verifying AI-generated content, especially in academic and professional settings.

Some students also said they had to remind themselves to use Copilot instead of falling back on other tools they were more familiar with. In some cases, they simply forgot Copilot was available. That feedback showed me how important it is to give students time and space to build new habits around emerging technologies.

What’s next

While Copilot for Business worked well for this project, its higher cost compared with previous desktop productivity apps may limit its use in future classes and raises ethical questions about access.

That said, I plan to continue expanding the use of generative AI tools across my courses. Instead of treating AI as a one-off topic, I want it to become part of the flow of everyday academic work. My goal is to help students build AI literacy and use these tools responsibly and thoughtfully, as a support for their learning, not a replacement for it.

Historically, software programs enabled people to produce content, such as text documents, slides or the like, whereas generative AI tools produce the “work” based on user prompts. This shift requires a higher level of awareness about what students are learning and how they’re engaging with the materials and the AI tool.

This pilot project reminded me that integrating AI into the classroom isn’t just about giving students access to new tools. It’s about creating space to explore, experiment, reflect and think critically about how these tools fit into their personal and professional lives and, most importantly, how they work.

As an educator, I’m also thinking about the deeper questions this technology raises. How do we ensure that students continue developing original thoughts and critical thinking when AI can easily generate ideas or content? How can we preserve meaningful learning while still taking advantage of the efficiency these tools offer? And what kinds of assignments can help students use AI effectively while still demonstrating their own thinking?

These aren’t just theoretical concerns. Early studies have identified the risks of “cognitive offloading” when performing tasks, such as writing essays with AI. Studies have also shown that using AI can reduce cognitive effort and even affect students’ confidence levels in their thinking. This highlights the importance of incorporating critical thinking activities alongside AI use.

These questions aren’t easy, but they are important. Higher education has an important role to play in helping students use AI and understand its impact and their responsibility in shaping how it’s used.

Striking the right balance between fostering original thought and critical thinking with AI can be tricky. One way I’ve approached this is encouraging students to first create their content on their own, then use AI for review. This way, they maintain ownership of their work and see AI as a helpful tool rather than a shortcut. It’s all about knowing when to leverage AI to refine or enhance their ideas.

One piece of advice I received that really stuck with me was this: Start small, be transparent and talk openly with your students. That’s what I did, and it’s what I’ll continue doing as I enter this next chapter of teaching and learning in the age of AI.

Camille Banger does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Generative AI is coming to the workplace, so I designed a business technology class with AI baked in – https://theconversation.com/generative-ai-is-coming-to-the-workplace-so-i-designed-a-business-technology-class-with-ai-baked-in-259481

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Jennifer Duyne Barenstein, Senior Lecturer of Social Anthropology, Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich

More than 1.8 billion people lack access to adequate and affordable housing. Yet too few countries have taken meaningful steps to ensure dignified housing for their most vulnerable citizens.

We research how cooperative housing can serve as one solution to the affordable housing crisis. There are a variety of cooperative housing models. But they generally involve residents collectively owning and managing their apartment complexes, sharing responsibilities, costs and decision-making through a democratic process.

Some countries have embraced cooperatives. In Zurich, Switzerland, almost one-fifth of the city’s total housing stock is cooperative housing.

Other countries, such as El Salvador and Colombia, have struggled to integrate housing cooperatives into their countries’ preexisting housing policies. In fact, although Latin America has a long-standing tradition of community-driven and mutual aid housing, housing cooperatives haven’t taken root in many places, largely due to weak political and institutional backing.

Uruguay is an exception.

With a population of just 3.4 million, the small Latin American nation has a robust network of housing cooperatives, which give access to permanent, affordable housing to citizens at a range of income levels.

An experiment becomes law

Housing cooperatives in Uruguay emerged in the 1960s during a time of deep economic turmoil.

The first few pilot projects delivered outstanding results. Financed through a mix of government funds, loans from the Inter-American Development Bank and member contributions, they were more cost-effective, faster to build and higher in quality than conventional housing.

These early successes played a key role in the passage of Uruguay’s National Housing Law in 1968. This law formally recognized housing cooperatives and introduced a legal framework that supported different models. The most common models to emerge roughly translate to “savings cooperatives” and “mutual aid cooperatives.”

In the savings model, members pool their savings to contribute around 15% of the capital investment. This gives them access to a government-subsidized mortgage to finance the construction. The cooperative then determines how repayment responsibilities are distributed among its members. Typically, members purchase “social shares” in the cooperative, equivalent to the cost of the assigned housing unit. If a member decides to leave the cooperative, their social shares are reimbursed. These shares are also inheritable, allowing them to be passed on to heirs.

In contrast, the mutual aid model enables households without savings to participate by contributing 21 hours per week toward construction efforts. Tasks are assigned to individuals according to their abilities. They can range from manual labor to administrative tasks, such as the ordering of construction materials.

Despite their differences, both models share a fundamental principle: The land and housing units are held collectively and are permanently removed from the private market.

Typically, once cooperatives are established, each household must contribute a monthly fee that covers the repayment of the state’s loan and maintenance costs. In exchange, members have an unlimited and inheritable contract of “use and enjoyment” of a quality apartment. If a member decides to leave, they are partially reimbursed for the contributions they’ve made over time, typically with a 10% deduction that the cooperative keeps.

This ensures that cooperative housing provides long-term security and remains affordable, especially for those at the lowest rungs of the income ladder.

State support and public buy-in

Today, Uruguay has 2,197 housing cooperatives, supplying homes to approximately 5% of the country’s households. Around half of them are located in the nation’s capital, Montevideo, where 1,008 cooperatives operate. Cooperatives can have as few as 12 homes or as many as 700 apartments.

This growth has been possible thanks to state support, federations of cooperatives and nonprofit groups.

The state recognized that the success of housing cooperatives depended on sustained public support. The National Housing Law defined the rights and responsibilities of cooperatives. It also outlined the state’s obligations: overseeing operations, setting criteria for financial assistance and providing access to land.

Housing cooperative federations have also played a key role. FECOVI, the federation of the savings cooperatives, represents over 100 cooperatives, serving roughly 5,000 households. FUCVAM, the federation of mutual aid cooperatives, is much larger and more politically active, representing over 35,000 households across 730 cooperatives.

Beyond organizing and advocating for the right to housing – and human rights more broadly – FUCVAM offers its member cooperatives a wide range of support services, including training to strengthen cooperative management, legal counseling and conflict mediation.

Finally, a vital pillar of this model are the Technical Assistance Institutes, which were also recognized by the National Housing Law. These are independent, nonprofit organizations that advise cooperatives.

Their role is crucial: The construction of large-scale housing projects is complicated. The vast majority of citizens have no prior experience in construction or project management. The success of Uruguay’s cooperative model would be unthinkable without their support.

From the outskirts to the city center

Uruguay’s housing cooperatives have not only expanded, but have also evolved in response to changing needs and challenges.

In their early years, most cooperatives built low-density housing on the outskirts of cities. This approach was largely influenced by the ideals of the Garden City movement, a planning philosophy of the late 19th century that prioritized low-density housing and a balance between development and green spaces. In Uruguay, there was also a cultural preference for single-family homes. And land was more expensive in city centers.

These early cooperatives, however, contributed to urban sprawl, which has a number of drawbacks. Infrastructure has to be built out. It’s harder to reach jobs and schools. There’s more traffic. And single-family homes aren’t an efficient use of land.

Meanwhile, in the 1970s Montevideo’s historic city center started experiencing abandonment and decay. During this period, the country’s shifting socioeconomic landscape created a set of new challenges. More people relied on irregular incomes from informal work, while more single women became heads of households.

In response, housing cooperatives have shown a remarkable ability to adapt.

For women, by women

As urban sprawl pushed development outward, Montevideo’s historic center, Ciudad Vieja, was hemorrhaging residents. Its historic buildings were falling apart.

Seeking to revitalize the area without displacing its remaining low-income residents, the city saw housing cooperatives as a solution.

This spurred the creation of 13 mutual aid cooperatives in Ciudad Vieja, which now account for approximately 6% of all housing units in the area.

One of the pioneers of this effort was Mujeres Jefas de Familia, which translates to Women Heads of Household. Known by the acronym MUJEFA, it was founded in 1995 by low-income, single mothers. MUJEFA introduced a new approach to cooperative housing: homes designed, built and governed with the unique needs of women in mind.

Architect Charna Furman spearheaded the initiative. She wanted to overcome the structural inequalities that prevent women from finding secure housing: financial dependence on men, being primary caregivers, and the absence of housing policies that account for single women’s limited access to economic resources.

Remaining in Ciudad Vieja was important to members of MUJEFA. Its central location allowed them to be close to their jobs, their kids’ schools, health clinics and a close-knit community of friends and family.

However, the project faced major hurdles. The crumbling structure the group acquired in 1991 – an abandoned, heritage-listed building – needed to be transformed into 12 safe, functional apartments.

The cooperative model had to adapt. Municipal authorities temporarily relaxed certain regulations to allow older buildings to be rehabbed as cooperatives. There was also the challenge of organizing vulnerable people – often long-time residents at risk of eviction, who were employed as domestic workers or street vendors – into groups that could actively participate in the renovation process. And they had to be taught how to retrofit an older building.

Today, 12 women with their children live in the MUJEFA cooperative. It’s a compelling example of how cooperative housing can go beyond simply putting a roof over families’ heads. Instead, it can be a vehicle for social transformation. Women traditionally excluded from urban planning were able to design and construct their own homes, creating a secure future for themselves and their children.

Building up, not out

COVIVEMA 5, completed in 2015, was the first high-rise, mutual aid cooperative in a central Montevideo neighborhood. Home to around 300 residents, it’s made up of 55 units distributed across two buildings.

Members participated in the building process with guidance from the Centro Cooperativista Uruguayo, one of the oldest and most respected Technical Assistance Institutes. Architects had to adapt their designs to make it easier for regular people with little experience in construction to complete a high-rise building. Cooperative members received specialized training in vertical construction and safety protocols. While members contributed to the construction, skilled labor would be brought in when necessary.

Members of the cooperative also designed and built Plaza Luisa Cuesta, a public square that created open space in an otherwise dense neighborhood for residents to gather and socialize.

Housing cooperatives are neither public nor private. They might be thought of as an efficient and effective “third way” to provide housing, one that gives residents a stake in their homes and provides long-term security. But their success depends upon institutional, technical and financial support.

This article is part of a series centered on envisioning ways to deal with the housing crisis.

Jennifer Duyne Barenstein receives funding from The Swiss National Science Foundation. She is affiliated with the Centre for Research on Architecture, Society and the Built Environment, Department of Architecture, ETH Zurich

Daniela Sanjinés receives funding from the Swiss National Science Foundation. She is affiliated with the Centre for Research on Architecture, Society and the Built Environment, Department of Architecture, ETH Zurich.

– ref. What the world can learn from Uruguay as the global housing crisis deepens – https://theconversation.com/what-the-world-can-learn-from-uruguay-as-the-global-housing-crisis-deepens-258342