Note the width from centerline to curb |
In my previous post, I wrote about the need to
move past vision into the long, often tedious task of execution if major land-use
changes are to be made.
I live and believe
that statement. And I respect those who work
daily toward the execution of land-use concepts that will make our communities
stronger and more sustainable, especially those who have been undertaking the
task for longer than me.
Within the
past week, I’ve read as the Friends of SMART, the citizens group that pushed
for the SMART rail system and continues to watch over its implementation,
exchanged emails about their proposed “Founders’ Grove”, a public park in Santa
Rosa that would remember the people who devoted much time and effort toward SMART,
but passed away before the trains could begin running. Communities thrive when idealists work hard
for goals beyond their own life spans.
However, I
understand there are also many who want to make a difference, but lack the
willingness to work for goals that may be over the horizon. As the cartoon of a pair of steely-eyed
vultures on a branch notes, “Patience my ass, I’m gonna kill something.”
With those
folks in mind, I want to recount a story I heard at CNU 22, the annual meeting
of the Congress for the New Urbanism, held in Buffalo in 2014.
In a
medium-sized Canadian city near Toronto, a group of urbanists met regularly to
talk about how to make their town more pedestrian friendly. One particular intersection bothered them. It was stop sign controlled, but many of the
stops were perfunctory.
Even worse,
both streets were unusually wide for two-lane streets. For one right turn in particular, a frequent
traffic movement, drivers had room to make a second lane leading into the right
turn. Pedestrians were intimidated by
the rolling stops and the extra lane of travel.
Rather than risking their children, parents would drive them to
school. And senior citizens were blocked
from shops they might have otherwise visited.
(The photo
is from the North Bay, not Canada, but illustrates the concern. Where the car is stopped, it’s more than 25
feet from centerline to curb, which is plenty of room for drivers making a right
turn, including me upon occasion, to make a separate lane.)
The
urbanists easily identified the traffic fix that was needed, a bulb-out that
would keep the second lane from forming, thereby slowing traffic and making the
intersection safer for pedestrians.
They took
their suggestion to City Hall where it was shuffled to the bottom of a stack of
other possible street improvements, few of which pertained to making the city
safer for pedestrians.
Unwilling to
let the idea die a quiet bureaucratic death, the urbanists hatched a plan. One evening, after the sun had set, they
arrived at the corner in a van, wearing safety vests. By chance, a utility crew was working a block
away, so the urbanists looked like another team on the same utility project.
As drivers
passed by, few even giving a second glance, the urbanists laid down white striping,
creating the bulb-out they’d proposed.
To ensure that the drivers saw the paint the following morning, they
placed orange traffic cones along the perimeter. And to show the world that this wasn’t an
ordinary street project, they put a single yellow daffodil in each cone. (I love the daffodil touch. It makes the story come alive.)
When the sun
rose the next morning, drivers quickly adjusted to the new paint and no longer
made a second travel lane for right turns.
Pedestrians, puzzled at first by the change, soon learned that they
could walk into the painted bulb in safety, making the crossing easier. And they told their friends about the more
pedestrian friendly crossing.
Meanwhile,
City Hall fumed, threatening prosecution against whoever had laid down roadway striping
without either approval from Public Works or an encroachment permit. The urbanists, willing to take a chance, but stopping
short of stupidity, remained quiet and out of sight.
But when the
pedestrians began asking why City Hall was fussing over a change that had
improved walkability, the tone shifted.
City Hall was willing to admit that the striping seemed a good idea,
even finding money to redo the striping with better paint and to put up signage
required for the bulb-out. But some
truculence remained, with a warning given that if anyone else undertook a
similar effort, retribution would follow swiftly.
The
urbanists began planning their next project.
The team had
engaged in tactical urbanism, small, focused efforts to reintroduce walkable urbanism
to places that have forgotten about it.
Not every
tactical urbanist effort needs to tweak the nose of City Hall as much as the
Canadian story, although some do.
Chuck Marohn
of StrongTowns tells the story of a Memphis neighborhood that painted crosswalks
and bike lanes without official sanction, although the City soon embraced the
changes.
Another
story from CNU 22 was about an abandoned brewery in downtown Memphis that was
filled with trash and misbehavior. A
neighborhood group came together to do a clean-up, followed by stringing lights
and rolling out a keg of beer.
At CNU 23 in
Dallas, local consulting group Ash + Lime spoke about organizing events in
empty downtown buildings in a nearby suburb, reminding the citizens of how much
fun a well-filled downtown can be.
(For readers
with long memories, tactical urbanism may sound similar to City Repair, about which I wrote a few
years back. The two are much alike and can
be described as two sides of the same coin.
As I see the slight difference, City Repair is about building community
from which small improvement projects flow while tactical urbanism is about
identifying small improvement projects from which community growth flows. Two good concepts with a small difference in perspective.)
None of the
tactical urbanist projects noted above are in the North Bay, but the North Bay offers
opportunities for tactical urbanism. A
couple of years back, I learned of two Petaluma businesses, aided and abetted
by a Petaluma architect, who were going to install a parklet despite the
absence of a City parklet policy. (This
was long before a group, with whom I’m working, began to develop a parklet
policy for City consideration.) I thought
the idea was grand, offered to write about it when the time was right, and was
disappointed when it faded away.
I have no
problem conceiving of other tactical urbanist projects that could make a
difference in the North Bay.
Already
having a full plate of longer-term goals, I won’t be taking the lead on any
tactical urban projects, but will be happy to advise as needed.
So, if a
decade or more of persistent involvement and advocacy to accomplish a single goal,
albeit a major goal, isn’t consistent with your personality, perhaps tactical
urbanism, with its lesser but still important targets, would in more keeping with
your desires.
Either way,
you shouldn’t sit back telling others what your city should look like in the future. You need to be making brush strokes yourself,
whether grand and time-consuming or short and incisive. It’s up to you to make the future what you
want it to be.
When I next
write, it will be about the drought.
Some are ready to call it over and to lift all water use
restrictions. For at least two reasons,
I disagree.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
Tactical urbanism in large part is a reversal of priorities in which residents, planners and urban designers wrestle control of the public space from traffic engineers and regain control over how the city really looks.
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