When landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted—of Central Park fame—moved from New York to Massachusetts 143 years ago, his decision was motivated by potential. Specifically, the potential he saw in a more-than-500-acre plot of rolling orchards, open fields, and scattered woodlands that the City of Boston had just acquired with the goal of turning into the city’s largest park.

The development would be Olmsted’s final project—the crown jewel of Boston’s park system, a treasured space for community, and the crowning achievement of his decorated career. At least, that was the idea.

Today, it’s hard to look at Franklin Park and see the jewel that Olmsted envisioned.

We’ve lived in Egleston Square, right across from Franklin Park, for 20 years. We love our neighborhood and having space for our kids—11, 8, and 5—and our dogs, Ripley and Skye, to explore just steps from our front door. And, like Olmsted, we see so much potential in this park that’s more than ten times bigger than the Common.

But, for as long as we can remember, that potential has been squandered. Decades of deferred investment have left the park in a state of disrepair. The paved pathways are scarred with cracks and potholes where tree roots and years of freezing and thawing have taken their toll. If you push a stroller, or use a walker or a wheelchair, the paths are unusable.

And the lack of lighting makes it worse. One of our neighbors is in his eighties. In the summer, he’ll walk the bumpy, crooked paths because he wants the exercise. But in the winter, he’s forced to spend his afternoons inside because the paths are too dangerous to negotiate in the quickly fading light.

And for families who don’t live nearby, the absence of water fountains and public restrooms make it tough to justify the trip. Every parent knows the feeling of packing bags with snacks and games, navigating the journey with little ones, only to arrive and hear, “I have to go to the bathroom.” As a mom of three, if I didn’t live across the street, I wouldn’t chance it.

Then there’s White Stadium. The crumbling facade, marshy field, and haggard six-lane track are bad enough. But for the brave souls still determined to run laps or stadium steps, you’d better not work a 9-5 (or you better be really fast) because it’s only open for public use from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekdays.

And it’s not just the physical infrastructure and facilities: In the summer, the vegetation grows into an impenetrable tangle of weeds, trash, and brambles. In some spots, the grass is up to my kids’ shoulders. There are so many dead trees that I don’t wear headphones while I’m walking, so I’ll hear if a limb above tells me I need to run for cover.

Olmsted hoped to preserve the “pleasing rural scenery” of Franklin Park as a place for Bostonians to “go after their day’s work is done…to stroll for an hour” and escape the bustle of the city.

Today, the park feels more untamed wilderness than “rural scenery,” and strolling after work is out of the question unless you bring a flashlight.

But now, for the first time, it feels like things might change. With credit to Mayor Wu, her administration is taking up the challenge of ending the cycle of neglect and disinvestment in Franklin Park.

Together with Boston Unity Soccer Partners (BUSP), and guided by the Franklin Park Action Plan—informed by the Franklin Park Coalition and residents from Dorchester, Roxbury, and Jamaica Plain—the Wu Administration is proposing to invest in making Franklin Park and White Stadium the kinds of spaces residents deserve.

The renovation will create a state-of-the-art sports stadium for BPS student-athletes, open to the public 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, with year-round maintenance provided by BUSP. Public restrooms and water fountains will make the park viable for residents who don’t live across the street; full-time staff will prune trees and prevent overgrowth; and repaving and lighting will make the paths safe and accessible for everyone.

Boston is a beautiful, historic, cutting-edge city. We’re a championship city. We’re home to our nation’s first public school, public library, and yes, public park. We have always recognized the potential in investing in our people and the places that serve them. It’s well past time that we act on that recognition and realize Franklin Park’s potential.

Dorothy (Dot) Fennell lives with her family in Roxbury.