Stopping DEI In Its Tracks (Or Lanes)

 I am almost everything the Trump Administration hates.

The reason I say “almost” is that I’m White.  But I check the other boxes:  I am a woman. I am transgender.  I live in New York City. I’ve been voting for Democrats (though I do not identify as one; my values are mostly more progressive). Oh, and I am a cyclist.

Could I be the (or a) reason why the Administration has declared that bike lanes are “DEI tools?”

For those of you who haven’t had to live with the lunacy in the United States, DEI stands for diversity, equity and inclusion. It’s a shorthand for policies created to safeguard against discrimination in workplaces and other institutions.

So how did this Administration—In particular its Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy—come to the conclusion that those green strips of asphalt along your city’s main streets are conduits for people like me, people of color, immigrants and other “undesirables?” Well, Duffy’s predecessor, Pete Bootigieg (whom Duffy referred to as “Boot-edge-edge”) allocated much of the funding made available to municipalities, not only for bike lanes, but also for other projects to improve pedestrian and traffic safety.

You see; “Boot-edge-edge” has a husband and served under Trump’s predecessor, President Joe Biden, who extended and strengthened DEI policies initiated by President Barack Obama, under whom Biden served  as Vice President. “Boot-edge-edge,” said that among other things, building bike lanes and implementing other safety measures would “improve infrastructure, strengthen supply chains, make us safer, advance equity and combat climate change.”

“Advance equity and combat climate change.” Little did he know he was giving his successor ammunition.

Trump and Duffy have sent out messages in screaming capital letters on X (formerly known as Twitter) that their predecessors’ policies were “hostile to motor vehicles” and grants promised to various municipalities—including some that voted overwhelmingly for Trump all three times he ran for President—would be cancelled.

Gotta stop that DEI menace in its tracks, you know!

Photo by Kevin Dietsch, Getty Images 

Midlife Hitchiker?

 Who hitchhikes in midlife?

Well, if you accept that my definition—the one that shapes this blog—anyone who doesn’t know when their life will end and solicits a ride from a stranger is a midlife hitchhiker.

That said, I don’t expect to stand with my thumb out or hold a sign on a roadside. That has nothing to do with age. Or maybe it does: Some things I would have ventured simply don’t seem worth the risks—which may or may not be greater than they were.

I did hitch a couple of rides in my youth, but they weren’t part of my plans, such as they were. Once, a guy who looked like he had whisky and cigarettes for breakfast took me across a bridge where cyclists weren’t allowed and had no walkway. Another time, a fellow with a voice that could’ve leveled the nearby hills gave me a lift into town after I trashed my rear wheel. Both men took me and my bike in pickup trucks that looked like their drivers actually used them on their jobs.

Anyway, I have never taken a hitchhiking trip. I could make the excuse that I was born a few years too late to be a hippie. Or maybe I’m less adventurous than I may have led you to believe I am. 

You could say, perhaps, that I have taken hitchhikers with me, if unintentionally. I’ve found ladybugs—which I don’t see nearly as often as I once did—on my clothes, bags and helmet at the end of a ride. Also, butterflies have landed on me or my handlebars.  Did they want to take a rest ? Oh, and I’ve picked up a puppy and a kitten, which I brought to a police station.

I got to thinking about those “free rides” when I came across this article about another “hitchhiker.” Scientists in Costa Rica found a remora (also known of as a suckerfish) attached to the shell of an olive ridley sea turtle.

What astonished the scientists was not that the remora “hitchiked”: They attach themselves, not only to sea turtles, but also to rays, sharks and whales. But they normally remain on their host as long as it’s swimming because they need to have oxygen from the water flowing over their gills. The scientists, who were observing other aquatic and amphibious life, saw the turtle leave the water for 19 minutes: far longer than they would normally survive without their supply of oxygen.

I wondered where that remora was trying to go. In any event, I imagine it has no idea of when it will die. So, by my definition, it’s a midlife hitchhiker.

(Infrared photo by Megan Bullock for BBC. Remora is near the peak of the turtle’s shell.)

The Cure

 No matter how much money we spend on bikes (or anything related to them), it’s still less than at least one of the alternatives: