Fostering Independence

This week, we celebrate International Walk to School Day. Yep, honest. It's a real event. All over the world, children, families and schools will hold events celebrating the simple joy of walking to school.  As such, I thought it fitting to write about what our experiment to live without a car is manifesting within my own child.

In my professional world, we frequently tout independence as one of many benefits to walking or bicycling to and from school.  As a result, I also encounter ongoing concerns surrounding children's safety and well-being. I acknowledge that I do not directly deal with the issues on a daily basis since most of my work is in policy, not programs, but I (and my organization) haven't become so mired in the policy that we lose sight of what those crash statistics really mean.

I am also a mom, so the risks are incredibly poignant. The thought of harm coming to my one and only is enough to cause my knees to buckle and tears to well in my eyes. But I also know that I am limited in my ability to protect her. So, I can either wrap her in bubble wrap and lock her in her room forever (as tempting as that may be), or I can parent her in ways that teach her to confidently and wisely navigate her world. I confess that I haven't read a ton of parenting books, and my own childhood doesn't really provide the model for how to do this, but I'm hedging my bets that the latter option might work better for her in the long run.

A month ago, in my post, Beyond Expectations, I wrote about my daughter's early impressions to living without a family vehicle. One of her first observations was that it provided her with a sense of belonging to Williamsburg that didn't exist when we had a car. I didn't need any motivation at that point, but it definitely made an impact on me.

We walk and bicycle to school routinely. That's not unique.  But I increasingly hear her expressing a desire to travel to school on her own.  She's spreading her wings, and she wants to test them out. And since she's a 6th-grader, I think that's appropriate. The question is when.

Earlier in the week I introduced her to the myriad of options at the dining commons on the William & Mary campus.  It's an easy walk for us, and one of her first questions was would I let her go there alone. Most parents will resonate with my answer: "We'll see."

Well, this past weekend we hosted one of her friends for a sleepover, and they thought it would be fun to have dinner at the dining commons -- by themselves.  Ummm ... she had me.

I explained that I couldn't just fully release them, but I was willing to give them a really long leash (euphemistically, of course!).  They were given money, and they were allowed to leave the house three minutes before I did. We agreed that they could order what they wanted, purchase their food, and dine at their own table, but I would be somewhere in the vicinity.

All was going according to plan, and I even fell farther behind when I stopped to talk to neighbors. As I approached the dining commons, however, I saw them standing outside. First thought: maybe they weren't ready for such a huge leap afterall.  That wasn't the case. "It's closed.  Apparently college students go elsewhere on a Friday night. Can we go to New Town?" they asked. "Only if I ride the same bus," I responded. I momentarily grabbed parental control again and tried to dictate where I wanted to go in New Town, but I caught myself and reminded all of us that they were on their own, and that included figuring out which stop to get off, and I would step back into the shadows.

They successfully (and very easily) navigated their way from the stop at Legacy Hall to Panera, ordered and paid for their dinner and, from my stalking position, seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves.  Afterwards, they wanted to go to the candy store, and I reminded all of us that this was their experiment. Their mission was to make good decisions while being as independent as possible, and my job was to make sure they got home.  I'll admit that my answer was different than my internal thought of "are you kidding?" So, after dinner, they ventured off to the candy store, and I enjoyed people watching from my bench.

They emerged, loot in hand, and we boarded the Trolley to return home. It was on the journey home when my 11-year-old pleaded with me to help her with her money. I ventured over to their seat, held out my hand, and she plopped a wad of bills and coins into my hand. I felt a small sense of satisfaction that she still needed me.

We got home, and I looked at the receipts and her change. She'd ensured that she received the correct change for each of her transactions, but when I looked at the receipt from the candy store, it dawned on me that they had spent $15 there!

Clearly, we still have some lessons to learn -- the first being that $15 comes out of her own pocket.

(Commercial plug: I encourage you to celebrate International Walk to School Day this week or this month. Even if you can't actually walk to school, park a couple of blocks from school and walk from there. Or just go for a walk with your child somewhere in your neighborhood. I'd be willing to bet money (small amounts, of course) that you will both learn something about your world and each other. And if you do it, let me know!)

The "Active" Part of Our Transportation

As my daughter and I began our experiment to be car-free, a friend asked if I would be keeping track of the walking and bicycling that ensued. I indicated that I would.

Full disclosure: I am a trip-tracking geek.

There are a number of tools and apps out there to measure steps, miles, speed, elevation gained -- you name it, it can probably be tracked.  My personal favorite is Endomondo, and I use it regularly.  (I promise not to go crazy with product placements.)

So, the more appropriate response to my friend would have been that I will probably be able to write a book -- or at the very least, a blog post -- on how our activity levels have changed as a result of living car-free.

I think it is universally well-known that people who live in urban, transit-friendly cities and communities experience higher levels of physical activity. This is no great revelation, right? If it's easy to walk to a destination -- store, restaurant, work -- people will be more inclined to do so. And if you rely on transit, you're inevitably walking or bicycling to and from stops.

The CDC has recommended physical activity guidelines for both adults and children for "healthy" living. A very small percentage of Americans attain those recommendations, but I can very easily claim that living car-free makes it very easy to not only attain, but surpass, them.

We have been sans car for a little more than six weeks now, so I have enough data to see how our lifestyle change has impacted my physical activity.  In summary, when we still had a car, I averaged 60 minutes/day of walking, hiking or bicycling. That average has doubled to two hours/day, and I have eliminated the hiking or mountain biking that used to factor in to my daily average. That two hours/day simply reflects "active transportation."

In terms of mileage, I used to average 3 miles/day, mostly walking, with a long recreational bike ride on the weekends.  As time goes on, I'm watching the average daily mileage increase, and right now it's about 10 miles/day. The long recreational rides on the weekend no longer occur, but I'm on the bike daily. Sometimes it's just a roundtrip to school, but on weekends, errands can easily rack up 10 miles or more.

These increases have occurred organically as a result of just walking to bus stops, from bus stops, or bicycling to school, stores or meetings.

The result: I am definitely feeling stronger, getting more muscle definition and slowly losing weight. I'm eager to see what the longer-term effects will be.

It's Getting Real

My resolve has been sorely tested this week. And my daughter has been the rock.

As her extracurricular schedule ramped up, our ability to easily access destinations hit a few obstacles. On Monday, she had volleyball practice, and we desperately needed a trip to the grocery store, but the Zipcars were booked, and she wasn't quite ready for the bicycle ride to volleyball practice. We opted for the transit/bicycle combo, only to find that my 30-day transit pass malfunctioned two weeks in, and we were informed that the only solutions were to buy another ticket, and then, trek back to the Williamsburg Outlet Mall -- which is on the way to absolutely nowhere -- to figure out what was wrong. This really wasn't the answer I wanted to hear.

Simultaneously, my workload for my actual job was ever increasing. Fall is always busy for us, and this season looks to be even more so.

I felt myself begin to buckle, but my daughter held fast, convinced that we can make this work. (I just need to state for the record that I think my kid is pretty amazing.)

Tuesday arrived, and I had a morning free of calls, so after school dropoff, I lingered downtown, working on a bench, fully capitalizing on Williamsburg's wifi access.  At the appointed time, I caught the bus that travels to the upper part of James City County. My resolve was buoyed by my fellow

A full bus.

transit riders -- standing room only, representing a wide variety of colors, ages and languages.  I found myself thinking that even in our small community, transit breaks down barriers like few things can. I firmly believe that is a good thing.

I am fortunate to be able to work virtually anywhere, and so far this week, I have found myself working on benches outside, benches inside, buses and even curbs. I've actually been quite productive.

To make a long story short, even after spending a total of three hours roundtrip, I was unable to resolve my transit pass issue at the transit office. However, I learned that the transit board of directors was meeting on Wednesday, and I decided it was time to introduce myself to the board and share with them our experiences--both positive and well ... constructive--thus far.

I've testified before many boards of electeds and decisionmakers, but never has it been so personal. The reception by the board and attending staff was encouraging.  I spoke about our direct experiences, but in the end, I hope that any resulting change enhances the experience for all transit users, and that the changes will be a catalyst to encourage more Williamsburg residents to experience transit. It is a pretty unique way to experience this place that is our collective home. Between this and the strength and enthusiasm of my kid, I'll continue to hang on when this experiment seems much harder than it should be.

I Didn't Participate

The Newly Adopted Regional Bicycle Facilities Plan

There was a semi-important vote by the James City County Board of Supervisors this week. Their meeting included review and approval of the updated regional bicycle facilities plan. This plan is part of the county's overall comprehensive plan -- its vision for its future.

Supporting active transportation at local meetings is always a good thing, but it is an increasingly important task in this particular county. While I may feel that active transportation is not a partisan issue, unfortunately, not everyone agrees with me.

This region has a particularly vocal segment of the population who routinely shows up at many meetings, voicing displeasure at the government's role in most matters, but they seem take it to a whole new level when it comes to bicycling.  I still don't completely understand what it is they have against bicycles. But they are a force to be reckoned with.

I knew I should be at this meeting. And yet I didn't go.

I didn't go because I couldn't easily get there. Yes, I could have ridden my bicycle. I have done it before. It's only 4.5 miles. The route includes a segment that is very lightly traveled ... but it's also unpaved, dark and isolated. In the daylight, it's fun. When it's dark, it's treacherous.

I looked into the other obvious option -- transit. But surprisingly, our transit system does not travel to (or even near) our county government complex. I was surprised, but as I have continued to think about that, I am angry. The complex is adjacent to Kingsmill, a renowned gated community that often hosts PGA and LPGA tournaments. It was proffered to the county long ago for the government complex. And it's not served by transit.

Essentially, the message I hear is that if you must rely on transit, you are not welcome. I don't think they really intend that message. I think they simply don't realize that there are people for whom transit is their only means of transportation. I will be letting them know.

In the end, I submitted a letter to the Supervisors, and I watched the meeting online.  The regional bicycle plan was ultimately adopted, and there were a number of friends who spoke in support of the plan. They were countered by plenty who were against any forward progress on active transportation.

There is more work to be done.

Beyond Expectations

We're a month into our grand experiment to be car-free. Summarizing in two words: beyond expectations.

Active transportation is nothing new for me. But to actually shed the car has put everything into a completely different perspective. I totally get that not everyone can do what we're doing, and even if they could, they probably wouldn't want to. That's ok. I make no judgements. I am simply reflecting our experience.

The month has been atypical due to my travel schedule and wrapping up the summer schedule. I had two trips to California, and I only had my daughter for one week.  I admit to being skeptical about how feasible being car-free with my daughter would be. Suffice to say she totally embraced the concept.

We are utilizing each of the alternatives available to us: walking, bicycling, transit and even a couple of Zipcar trips. This past week was the first week of school, and our route takes us along one of the main arterials in Williamsburg. It's served by transit, and it's also heavily traveled by W&M students. With the routine, we see the same people regularly, and by the end of the week, we were waving at transit drivers and greeting passers-by like friends, rather than just strangers. The sense of community is flourishing.

We are learning to navigate the transit system, and this is no small feat. We're lucky to have a transit system in our community, but it lacks the sophistication and convenience that you find in a metropolitan region. The popular lines run on the 1/2 hour, the lesser lines on the hour. The routes are not that efficient. It takes some creative planning to arrange errands so it doesn't take all day.  The process is greatly enhanced by bringing our bikes along with us. My love for bike racks on buses has deepened to a whole new level.

The shining moment thus far in the process has been when my daughter declared that our town feels much more accessible to her now that she knows she can navigate it by bus instead of relying on adults with cars. I think that's a significant realization for an adolescent.

A Week In

It's been exactly one week since I signed over the title on my car.  The next day I boarded a plane for Sacramento, California, where I have been since. So while I can say that the first week has been incredibly easy to be without a car, it hasn't really been a fair start.

I have had a chance to use Zipcar a couple of times. Once here and I also checked out a car to take a quick side trip with my team to Davis, home of my alma mater UC Davis, and a city considered to be one of the most bicycle-friendly in the U.S.  I have found it to be incredibly easy to use.

I think the hardest element is transportation to/from the airport. Every city I travel to allows easy (and cost-effective) access via transit to the airport, except all three airports in this region.  In Sacramento, it cost $2 to ride from the airport to downtown -- a 20-mile trip. Even in Los Angeles, I can take an express bus for $7. It costs exponentially more locally as our only option is a car service--a true monopoly at work.  I would love to be among the catalysts to get that changed.

And So It Begins

The transition period for my endeavor to own no car ended abruptly today. I was hoping to eek out a couple more trips, but that was not to be. The irony is the car broke down on my way to a workshop on getting the most out of federal funding for active transportation in the Tidewater region.

So the car is gone. But I have my Zipcar membership, I have my bikes and my shoes. (Clearly, this is simplified living.) In reality, there's no reason I still can't go where I need to go, but yet, it feels so different. I found myself thinking earlier this week that the whole idea of transitioning was tough because it's just too easy to use the car when it's sitting in the driveway. Took care of that issue. 

I called my insurance company to cancel my auto insurance, and the agent asked when I would be replacing the car. There was a very long pause when I said I wouldn't. When I explained my plan, she sounded a bit skeptical, but at least she didn't laugh at me. 

The responses from friends and acquaintances has been fun. Those who know me aren't surprised at all, but I find it fascinating to watch them start to mull over the full scope of this plan, and then start to offer suggestions or assistance -- all of which is appreciated. I tend to brush aside assistance reactively and unconsciously, and another outcome of this experiment may have to be learning to rely on others a bit more.  Just not too much.

Why I Can

There are a number of reasons why I think this experiment to live without a car is doable. I realize that not everyone is in a similar position, and I imagine you may not necessarily want to be, but this is why I can even consider it:

1. I work in a home office. It is a game changer from the start. If I had any type of commute, this experiment would most likely not be happening.
2. I live in a walkable and bikeable part of my community. I can easily get to the post office, restaurants, farmer's market and the bank with a short walk. My daughter and I can walk to her school. I can bike to a grocery store and pharmacy. I made the choice to live in town so that I can reach these destinations without a car.
3. I have access to transit, and for a small community, I think the transit system is relatively robust. I'm about to become much more savvy about it.
4. The College of William & Mary has Zipcar, and as a member, I have access to those vehicles. I'll admit that I can't be car-free in Williamsburg. I am aiming to be free from owning a car.  Whether it's shuttling my daughter (and her stuff) to her dad's every other week or visiting friends, there are destinations where I will need a car. Conveniently, I'll be able to use them. But it will require more planning and forethought about the reasons for the car. 

This whole effort is designed to eliminate spontaneous driving and be more purposeful in my travels. And that's where I think the change for me lies, and I think some important lessons, in general, are inevitable. Perhaps you, dear readers, might learn something, too.

Becoming Car-Free

I am an active transportation advocate. What does that mean? The really short answer is that I promote walking and bicycling. The longer answer is that I believe that people should have a choice in how they choose to move around their community, their city, their region... you get the picture.  I might even admit that it's downright libertarian of me to resent the fact that we have made this country so dependent upon cars. There are options. And I take great joy in seeing how that sentiment is gripping growing segments of the American population.

As a result there are growing options to automobile ownership. I won't get too technical in this blog, but many researchers believe that, as a country, the number of miles driven annually--the VMT--may have peaked several years ago. And I love the fact that our current generation of teens and young adults are taking longer to get their drivers licenses and are choosing other ways to navigate their world than by car.  (I personally think it's a backlash to being schlepped around in a car or minivan constantly as children, but the research bears out a myriad of reasons at this point. Time will tell.)

I'm not anti-car. My daughter and I just took a 5,000 road trip in 14 days this summer, and I had no problem sitting behind the wheel of my car, ticking away miles on the Interstate.  I clearly don't eschew cars.  I just don't want to HAVE to have one to go anywhere. And I am fully cognizant that not everyone can have a car -- amazing as that may seem to many.

So what?

Well, as of yesterday, I decided that I am in the process of becoming car-free. Yes, it will be a process. I'm not going cold turkey.

I love my car. It's 17 years-old, and it has fulfilled every synonym I can think of for dependable. When I think of all the miles that car has traveled--and it's closing in on 200k--I am amazed at how flawless it has been.  But it is broken, and the cost to repair it to safe working condition far exceeds its value at this point. And so, I am facing the fact that I have to say goodbye soon.  Not only am I not anti-car, I'm ridiculously anthropomorphic about mine.

And, so I have been faced with figuring out the next step.  A number of friends have just purchased brand new cars, and I'll admit that it's tempting to want to follow suit. Irrational, illogical, but tempting nonetheless.  When I actually think about it, I abhor the idea of purchasing a car and having car payments.

What's my option? With the tepid support of my daughter, we will be embarking on a car-free existence. I am banking on my car lasting at least through August, giving me a chance to fully assess how this will work, but I'm optimistic that by the time fall arrives in earnest, I will no longer own an automobile. And I will record my journey--and all that it entails--here.

Transitions

It's been a while.  Ok, it's been a really long while. I'm actually shocked to see the date of my last post.

Suffice to say that the scuffle mentioned in that post served as the proverbial tip of the iceberg. It certainly was not the last run-in to be had with the offending couple, and it became so tenuous that my daughter feared staying with me. That was the clincher. Our great village experiment ended in February.

We moved into a wonderful little house near campus and a mile from the heart of Williamsburg's historic district. We're also a mere mile from my daughter's school so we can walk or bicycle again.  The neighborhood is predominantly comprised of upper-class families, most of whom have grown children, but it is a neighborhood in transition, and there are several families here with children still in elementary and secondary school. It's the first such neighborhood we've lived in, but it's still noticeable how little the children play in the streets.  And then, there is our little house, small and eccentric but bursting with its own story. And it's home, at least through next June.

We continue to live relatively simply. That is my goal, and it's partly my ideological philosophies, but there is a hefty dose of financial constraints guiding this lifestyle, too. Of course, if I were to have more disposable income, I gather I would gravitate toward another bike or a spending spree at Title Nine.

One of the biggest changes we're looking at is our transportation situation, and I think that will be the emphasis of this blog henceforth. There is no need to change the name. I'm just transitioning subjects.