I am guilty of silence and I fully admit it. It took 3 more public black deaths in rapid succession for me to question my advocacy purpose, and to question how our streets address racial violence and equity. I started writing this blog post 2 weeks ago, after Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor were shot and murdered, but before George Floyd violently left this Earth.
Bikabout was inspired by the transformative power of a simple bike ride to start a grass roots movement for equitable transportation in North America. When we travel to cities to write guides, we ride through all neighborhoods and I direct my husband to photograph women, children and families of color and admittedly, these are scarce moments to capture. I actively welcome people of color to curate their best bike ride, but if 3 out of 43 ambassadors is any indication, I'm not successful. In the future, I pledge to represent communities of color through photography and ask people of color to curate their best bike rides.
And on a local level, I'm active in safe routes to school advocacy for my home of Hood River, Portland and Oregon, all admittedly white with a racist history. I have been challenged on my fight for open streets, having it characterized as “providing space for white people to eat brunch while other people are afraid to walk or bike anywhere because of their skin color.”
Photos by Jonathan Maus of Bike Portland.org
I have also heard “don’t rush to open streets until you listen and learn from your vulnerable populations.” Here is a little context on Hood River County, per Census.gov, July 2019 and observation:
County population 22,000 year round, but a rough estimate that this doubles in the summer
60% White, 32% Latino, 2.6% Biracial, 1.6% Asian, 1.2% Native American, .8% Black
29% are under 18 years old, 15% are over 65 years old
$355,000 median home value and $1150 median rent
$32,000 per capita income with 11% living in poverty
no data on bike infrastructure or sidewalks, but anecdotally we have about 4 miles of bike lanes on busy roads, disconnected sidewalks and many intersections with no curb ramps
schools and grocery stores are adjacent to car dominated roadways with unsafe crossings
hospitality and service workers have been hardest hit by the pandemic, with the majority of restaurants operating with scaled back staff
the city or county has no transportation planner nor an advocacy organization
12th Street has 60 feet of street space to vehicles and less than 10 feet to people walking and biking.
You can imagine that there is not enough hours in the week for the work to be done. The reason why I continue advocating for pop-up protected lanes, slow streets and open streets is that these changes disproportionately benefit the most vulnerable members of our community. Having safe, easy, legal car-free access between homes, businesses and schools is crucial for people who can’t afford to buy a car. Open street space for restaurant tables could put 100s from the service industry back to work - safely.
This racial awakening and pandemic simultaneously spotlight insidious policies in our criminal and public health systems, and our streets present a yellow brick road of sorts to repair and invest in a better system. I’m not a racial justice expert or an epidemiologist, I’m a amateur transportation planner that has seen some of the most equitable, 1st class systems in the world, and also those that make you feel insignificant. I will be the first to admit that I need help, but I’d like to use pilot street projects as tools to engage. Pop-up streets serve as tables to invite our vulnerable populations to, so we can ask them in real time if the design makes their life better. And, if it’s worse, tweak it or scrap it and start over with their input.
I stand with Communities of Color against racism and inequality.
I pledge to listen and fight for human-centered streets that make Black Lives Matter.
