Helping Healers Stay Healthy

I have passed the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center many times, by bike and on foot.  Every time, I noticed two things:  few, if any, bikes parked in its vicinity--and how many people in lab coats or scrubs were smoking just outside its doors.

And I've been accused of "ignoring the risks" for cycling in Manhattan, and other parts of New York City. 

(For the record, I've never smoked, wear a helmet, am fully vaccinated and wear a mask when I'm within a couple of meters of any other person.)

Anyway, I have noticed more health-care workers of all kinds riding bicycles.  As a matter of fact, in the pandemic's early days, I gave the old Cannondale M300 mountain bike I fixed up to someone who works in Mount Sinai-Queens, a block and a half up the Crescent Street bike lane from my apartment. His is not the only bike I see parked in the racks outside the facilities.  

I mention all of this because I wonder whether what I'm experiencing and observing is indicative of wider trends, as they say in academic and marketing (!) circles. The question particularly interests me in light of a story that came my way:  the Mayo Clinic, in Rochester, Minnesota, has been named a Bronze-Level Bicycle Friendly Business by the League of American Bicyclists.  In conferring this designation, the LAB cited "improved bike racks, secure parking rooms and tips for employees to ensure a safe and secure ride to and from work" as bases for so categorizing the Mayo. 

We've all heard the admonition, "Healer, heal thyself" (Cura te ipsum.)  It looks like the Mayo is taking steps to encourage its employees to follow that nugget of wisdom.  I hope other health-care facilities are doing the same--which, I admit, can be a difficult thing to do when perhaps no other profession has so many stressed-out people, especially in a time like this.      

Mapping What’s Missing

 

From the City of Austin 

My first time in Paris, so many things impressed me.  Among them were, of course, the food and the architecture—and that an entire street—l’Avenue de la Grande Armeé —was lined with boutiques of every major French bike maker and a couple of étrangers like Raleigh.  

And the city’s Métro system seemed like a fleet of high-tech yachts compared to the only such system—New York’s—I knew at the time. The feature that seemed most other-worldly, though, was the interactive route maps in the major stations like Châtelet-Les Halles.  Three decades before GPS, it was about as high-tech as urban subterranean navigation got: You pointed your finger to the name of a street or landmark and a string of lights marked the route and transfer (correspondance) points.

Now the city of Austin, Texas has something that reminds me of that old Paris map. The city’s Public Works and Transportation Departments have collaborated to create the ATX Walk Bike Roll to solicit ideas for improvements to the Lone Star capital’s bike and pedestrian infrastructure. To that end, they’ve designed an interactive map where residents can drop a “pin” wherever they find, say,  “hilariously narrow “ or non-existent sidewalks or bike lanes that are more like “obstacle courses.”

If we had such a map here in New York, I—or any regular cyclist—alone could fill it.  And to think this city is better than others in the US—including, possibly, Austin—for pedestrians and cyclists!

From A Eugenicist To A Bicycle Advocate: A School Is Renamed

During the past few years, all sorts of things have happened that I never thought I'd see in my lifetime.  

Here's another:  a middle school named after a bike advocate.

Really.  That school was commemorated yesterday at the ninth annual Bike Palo Alto.  

The school's namesake, Ellen Fletcher, served for many years as a councilwoman in the San Francisco Bay Area city.  Her advocacy is widely credited for making Palo Alto one of the most "welcoming" American cities for cyclists:  She campaigned, successfully, for safer bike paths and bridges in a community where over 40 percent of middle schoolers choose to pedal to school.

Ellen Fletcher, at the dedication of the bike boulevard bearing her name, in 2002.

With a role model like her, how could they not?  She owned a car--a 1964 Plymouth Valiant--but almost never used it.  In fact, she continued riding, both for transportation and recreation,until a year before she succumbed to lung cancer at age 83 in 2012.

Born in Berlin, she lived in a series of Jewish orphanages after her parents divorced. When the Nazis came to power, she and her father were deported because he was a Polish citizen.  They were slated to go to his native land, but was able to get to London through the Kindertransport program.  

A year before she died, she recalled seeing "everyone" biking in England.  She shared the enthusiasm the Brits had for cycling at that time and brought it with her to New York, where she emigrated--at age 17-- in 1946 and enrolled in Hunter College. There, she said, she was "the only one who had a bike on campus" and rode it year-round.

Shortly after graduating, she moved to the Bay Area and continued riding in one of the few areas of the US with a measurable number of adult cyclists.    Almost from the beginning, she was determined to put the bicycle on the radar of policy makers who, as she aptly noted, "were almost exclusively focused on cars." 

One of the early fruits of her labor came in 1982, when Bryant Street opened as the "Bike Boulevard."  It was renamed in her honor two decades later.

Palo Alto Bike, fittingly, followed Ellen Fletcher Bicycle Boulevard.  I don't know which Bryant was honored with the street, but the school renamed for her originally bore the name of Lewis Terman.  While his studies on giftedness and how intelligence influences health outcomes and other kinds of success made real contributions to psychology, his legacy is tainted for his advocacy of eugenics. 

Although there can be no justice for the Holocaust, I think there is some small measure of cosmic recompense in seeing a school named for him renamed for someone who might have fallen victim to beliefs he advocated.  

They're (We're) Taking Over!

What will I do when I'm no longer a minority?

All right...That sentence wasn't a cheap trick to get published in some right-wing think tank's house organ.  After all, in at least one sense I am not a minority, although I may become one if I live long enough:  I am white.  And, naturally, I don't see this country or any other developing a majority consisting of transgenders or transsexuals, contrary to Janice Raymond's most fear-addled fantasies.

So, to what "minority" am I referring?



Bike commuters, who else?

As I've mentioned in other posts, I can recall days, weeks and even months when I saw no one else riding a bicycle to work, or for any other purpose.  Such was the case even along the thoroughfares of Hipster Hook, where there are now, probably, more bicycles per capita than in any other place in the United States. 

Back in those days, the American media all but ignored cyclists and cycling.  Occasionally, some newspaper's sports section would include a line or two about the Tour de France or a race that passed, literally, in front of the doors of the editorial offices. 

I never, ever would have imagined hearing a story like the one aired today on National Public Radio.  It reports on the increase in bike commuting around the US.  Not surprisingly, small- to medium- sized cities with colleges or universities in temperate climates (i.e., Davis CA and Boulder CO) had the highest percentages of their populations riding bikes to work. Also not surprising was the fact that Portland OR has one of the highest rates among larger cities.




What also didn't surprise me--unfortunately--was the socio-economic makeup of bike commuters:  We are mainly people at the bottom of the income or the top of the education ladder.  Real progress in making places more bike-friendly--which is to say, developing a culture of cycling, not merely building bike lanes--will happen only when cycling is embraced by people in the middle.  That, by the way, is how almost anything becomes mainstream:  When middle classes embrace it.

Another facet of the report that confirmed my observations is that fewer people cycle to work in the South than in the rest of the country.  Some have said that it has to do with the long, hot summers.  I think that's one part of the story:  For a variety of other reasons, Dixie has developed more of a love for the internal combustion engine than us Yankees or folks in Seattle, Portland or Minneapolis--or even, for that matter, Detroit--have ever had.  Have you ever noticed that most NASCAR drivers--including the sport's elite--come from somewhere between the Potomac and the Rio Grande?

Cycle-commuters probably won't become mainstream--let alone a majority--any time soon.  But we are becoming more visible and numerous (Yes, cycling increases your sexual vitality!) in my part of the world.  What will we do?