She's 14. And She's Black. That Can Only Mean....

Mary Barton found herself lying on the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

She rode her bike on someone's property. Or so the owner of said property said.  Said property owner called the police.  Two officers showed up.  One of them told her she could leave, but the second officer told her to stop.

Officer #2 claimed the bike was stolen and demanded identification.  She said she didn't have to produce it  (Apparently, she was paying attention in her civics class!) and, furthermore, the bike is hers and she's had it since December.  Then the cop pulled out his pepper spray and told her to call her mom. 

Mary Burton is 14 years old.  If you haven't already watched the video, you might have guessed that she's black.  Oh, and she's in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

Her brother, a year older, rushes to her aid and both are up against the police car.  Mary fell to the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

Well, I guess those cops at least believe in gender equality:  Usually, it's the guys who get stopped for riding a bicycle (or driving) while black.  

When You're In Sierra Leone, Look For Stylish

Go to your local bike shop and ask for "Stylish".

Depending on the shop, you might be shown an elegant city bike or colorful jersey.  But it's not likely that someone in the shop will answer to it.

That is, unless your shop is in Sierra Leone.

Well, Stylish's (I never thought I'd use a possessive form of that word!) workplace isn't exactly a bike shop.  But it does connect people with bikes.  To be exact, he's the country manager for Village Bicycle Project, a US-based charity that focuses on sustainable transportation in Africa.  

Stylish.  Photo by Tom Owen

He has a workshop where he fixes bikes, and he does workshops in which he teaches people--particularly women and girls--how to ride bikes.  In his country, and others, women aren't taught how to ride because of notions that we can lose our virginity to a bicycle saddle. (Hmm...I guess it's a good thing I learned how to ride when I was still male!)  This not only robs them of the joy of cycling, it also limits their freedom and time they have to themselves, as they are often balancing family duties with outside work and/or school.  Having a bicycle increases their mobility, and options.

In addition to his bicycle-related work, Stylish has also, for the past six years, run a feeding program in the town of Lunsar.   In August, torrential rains make it impossible to harvest crops and a lot of people go hungry.  Last year, during that month, he provided meals for 80 neighborhood kids; in return, they had to attend English and Math lessons.  "I don't want to just create another thing where I am giving and they are taking," he explains.  This project, he says, is funded entirely by donations from people he has met personally, both in Sierra Leone and abroad.

With all he does, is it any wonder that 26-year-old Stylish has won his country's Young Philanthropist of the Year award?  

Although he was given the award as Abdul Karim Karama, the name he was given at birth, if you ever go to Sierra Leone, don't ask for him by that name. Remember, he's Stylish.  

Celebration Rides

Yesterday's post was rather depressing, if necessary.  So today I'll be a bit more cheerful.  Or, at least, I'll follow Walt Whitman and celebrate myself.

Last Thursday, on the Fourth, I said I'd "sneak in" a ride before going to a barbecue with friends.  Well, that barbecue started a bit later than planned and, of course, there was no rule about being there when it started.  

When does a barbecue "start" anyway?  When the first burger or chicken wing is placed on the grill?  Or when the first one is eaten?  Even if you can fix a "start" time, when is someone "late" for a barbecue?  When the food runs out?  

Cyclists Resting at the Top of Pendle Hill by Gosha Gibek

Anyway, the ride I "snuck" in took me to Connecticut and back:  137 kilometers, or about 85 miles.  

A ride and a barbecue:  Really, what more could I want on my birthday--which just happens to be US Independence Day!


The other day, I celebrated another "birthday".  On Sunday, the 7th, I took another ride to Connecticut. I took a longer route, though, from Rye to the Nutmeg State, over a series of roads that climbed ridges and looped around farms north of Greenwich.  Then I descended one of those ridges into the town of Greenwich.  In all, I rode 169 kilometers, or 105 miles.

When I set out on my ride, though, I didn't realize I was celebrating another "birthday":  It's something that occurred to me while I was climbing one of the ridges.  On that day, exactly ten years ago (7 July 2009), I had my gender reassignment surgery.  It kept me off my bike for a few months and I started this blog not long after I started riding again.

Oh, and while I was riding/celebrating, the US Women's Soccer/Football team won the World Cup.  If I were just a little more self-centered, I'd say they did it for me, or there was some sort of cosmic convergence.  But I have just enough humility to believe in coincidences that I can't explain.

Then again, when you can celebrate, do you really need to explain?