tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70490079137324219552024-03-05T20:35:00.199-07:00Defying Poverty with BicyclesA blog about social bike business programs that provide bicycles and career training to disadvantage people and those living in poverty.Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-61664268987957165762021-07-15T12:34:00.002-07:002021-07-15T12:34:55.768-07:00Bosnian Project Exceeds Expectations<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDLT5v0euyGXtKxkg4TjtvwC572ziLHKdMjUl5otxOsPrRGSPlTsAWCyA88ZRcXx5SZQS6xZdCxGO6vgOFRd4KO0MFJgDWul3G_yXIXAShmhYH3Vy2fzqZEyU8UdmXNnxzkRv8P8QWfM/s2048/IMG_0427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDLT5v0euyGXtKxkg4TjtvwC572ziLHKdMjUl5otxOsPrRGSPlTsAWCyA88ZRcXx5SZQS6xZdCxGO6vgOFRd4KO0MFJgDWul3G_yXIXAShmhYH3Vy2fzqZEyU8UdmXNnxzkRv8P8QWfM/s320/IMG_0427.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />I’ve recently returned from Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH)
where I was honored to work with some of the brightest and most effective community
activists I’ve known. If you’ve read our previous newsletters or seen our <span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://charity.gofundme.com/o/en/campaign/help-bosnian-campaigns-succeed">GoFundMe
page</a></span> for the project, you’ll know that such success was not certain.
The activists are the ones who are making the admirable changes for their
communities. Our wonderful donors are the ones who made it all possible. Thanks
to all of you!<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I traveled around BiH with my colleagues from Center for
Environment (CfE), I was stunned by how far ahead all the campaign leaders
were. I had asked each to meet with their officials prior to our visit to find
out their reaction to the requested community change. Not only had they met
with their officials, officials in most of the cities were already helping move
the campaigns forward. Some even joined us on our visits… <a href="https://www.onestreet.org/newsletters/264-summer-2021-e-newsletter">Read
the rest and find a link to the photo journal from the trip here</a>.<o:p></o:p></p>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-41767548417081410492020-12-18T13:12:00.002-07:002020-12-18T13:18:10.170-07:00Bosnian Bicycle Project Needs Help<p>For the past four years, I have had the honor of working
with activists in this war-battered country. Along with my colleagues at the
Center for Environment (CfE), our partner in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH), we
have guided activists from all over BiH to improve their communities through
bicycling and environmental campaigns.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://charity.gofundme.com/o/en/campaign/help-bosnian-campaigns-succeed " style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="547" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiif2uCny53netexRfgy4lYytkNpsFRUpEGyOtWDE_1RSzrjHPGwgj-Ekf-rNkInPqjpFwZgITDsYHahNf8t4xx9CX1VE40J7B0PCgyyubJ1ItUWe5Cu0EysbYLBsu959VZ8DJC2E2xY/s320/GoFundMe+BiH+for+home+page.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Now the project needs many people to step up and help. Our funder
for the project could only provide half of the funds we need for the next phase
of the project. So we launched a <a href="https://charity.gofundme.com/o/en/campaign/help-bosnian-campaigns-succeed">GoFundMe
Charity fundraiser</a> to fill the gap – please donate and share the link.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The war ended 25 years ago and in its shadow, corruption,
despair and poverty have thrived. People are still leaving, but not these
activists. They are fighting back by causing positive change. These are the
toughest and most committed activists I have ever worked with. Let’s show them
we appreciate their commitment to creating a country they are proud of, where all
Bosnians can choose to bicycle, where they would like to live and raise their
families.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">We need your help to
make this happen</b>. Even small donations add up toward our goal. Your
donations are tax-deductible.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Please also invite others to donate by sharing and forwarding
the GoFundMe Charity page. Thank you!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sue<o:p></o:p></p>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-64345815969609195782018-07-22T14:51:00.000-07:002018-07-22T14:51:10.529-07:00Seeking Cargo Bike Cultures: Rio and Beyond<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKAnC_G7XsEG8VaibyR3eyMw5y8TQ89Rg_UHbTTqo3N42lmDCZ-r12xeJ-yumO326gncR_5UCOSE8zpa84BzGFPLKWfnMBUcHxHu41caj5bQHq6B7_uqpQ1Jpeua8g7FP2GycpsE3oNc/s1600/Rio+cargo+bikes+loading+up+-+from+Ze+6-20-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="830" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKAnC_G7XsEG8VaibyR3eyMw5y8TQ89Rg_UHbTTqo3N42lmDCZ-r12xeJ-yumO326gncR_5UCOSE8zpa84BzGFPLKWfnMBUcHxHu41caj5bQHq6B7_uqpQ1Jpeua8g7FP2GycpsE3oNc/s320/Rio+cargo+bikes+loading+up+-+from+Ze+6-20-18.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I
flew to Rio de Janeiro in June to attend the Velo-city conference I looked
forward to reconnecting with my bicycle advocacy colleagues from all over the
world. What I didn’t expect was my discovery of a bike culture so deep and
proud as Rio’s cargo bike riders and craftspeople.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Within
my first steps along a Rio street I encountered a cargo bike. It was draped
with gadgets for tourists, but my gaze landed on the springs under the front
cargo box that looked just like the coil springs from a car. Not far away in an
open, car-free square I saw another cargo bike. That one had leaf springs, also
from a car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I walked
through the square I checked the frames and fittings of every cargo bike I
encountered. From the springs to the dropouts to the gearing to the cargo
boxes, every one of these bikes was unique, built, or at least repaired,
locally! And every one of the riders sat proud upon their steads. In my first
hour in Rio I had encountered the tip of an extraordinary bike culture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Since
returning to Arizona, I’ve tried to find anything in writing or video about Rio’s
cargo bike culture. The helpful advocates at <span style="background: white; color: black;">Transporte Ativo</span> sent me some <a href="http://www.ta.org.br/contagens/CB/Relatorio_CargaII.pdf">papers like this
one</a> that demonstrate the benefits of their city’s cargo bikes. You can also
find some of these <a href="https://www.velo-city2018.rio/rio">numbers posted
on the Velo-city Rio site</a>. Research and papers like these are extremely
important for influencing government policies to enable cargo bikes to function
well in a city. Such studies have clearly helped to increase cargo bikes in
Europe. <a href="http://cyclelogistics.eu/">Find many of the studies here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What I can’t seem to find is anything from the
perspectives of Rio’s cargo bike craftspeople and riders. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is a quiet culture there
of making, caring for, and riding these vehicles. With that sort of care
follows a desire to be part of the culture, including to ride the bikes and
incorporate the bikes into businesses. That’s a support system that no
government policy or funding can cause. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My
personal experience with such a culture was as a bike messenger in San
Francisco in the 1980s. That’s where delivery by bicycle was born in the U.S.
And the 1980s were the heyday of bike messengers right before the fax machine
and then personal computers hit. I rode the peak of the wave and will be
forever grateful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Last
month, as I walked and bicycled amidst Rio’s cargo bikes, was my first encounter
of that level of bike culture since my messenger days. I know there are other proud
pockets of working cyclists and craftspeople around the world, too. Perhaps
Europe’s cargo cyclists have it, though their fancy bikes and mega companies cause
a bit of doubt. I suspect Cuba could be another enclave, after discovering <a href="http://www.blogdefyingpovertywithbicycles.org/2015/03/havana-bikes.html">this
story, which I posted about</a> a few years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pedicabs
and cycle rickshaws seem to create their own proud cultures in some parts of
the world. One example is Rickshaw Bank in India. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksAixZvM1oA&t=44s">This video gives a
good overview</a>. I hope that Rickshaw Bank is inspiring similar social
enterprises in other parts of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Think
of your own experiences with working cyclists. Have you ever had a package
delivered by someone riding a bike? Have you seen mail carriers delivering by
bike? Have you watched from an airplane window as airport workers pedal heavy
bikes under wings and across an ocean of tarmac? Have you encountered
entrepreneurs perched on sidewalks peddling goods or pedaling bicycle machines that
sharpen knives, grind corn, or mix drinks? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Strong
cultures of working cyclists are very dear to me because I was part of one. But
they should be dear to all of us because they are the support systems that
enable these cyclists and craftspeople to thrive even in places where motorized
transport still dominates. They are silently shifting transport from noisy, polluting,
and dangerous trucks to quiet vehicles ridden by people who take pride in their
self-propelled occupations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Quiet
is the unfortunate term here. I can’t find anything on Rio’s cargo bike craftspeople
or riders. For that matter, besides some edgy books and movies about bike
messengers and a few video interviews with rickshaw drivers at Rickshaw Bank, I’ve
found next to nothing from the human side of working cyclists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do you
know of any? If so, please email them to me at sue{at}onestreet.org. If I can
pull together several more resources, I’ll use them in a follow-up post and,
who knows, perhaps something even bigger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sue</span></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-30557496609840039312018-05-26T10:08:00.000-07:002018-05-26T10:08:40.589-07:00Cycling Club Helping Homeless Women Regain Independence<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycbT_bWMN-mkxYSBPN7TUs7h9h1B8YtmeGjtFkFmVgkY3mYedU_MCYNJHhKiP8ZMpKDX6jvZ67_UD8E3aJFR6Ex1vzZAkEKw98wjMxPXsldZY68nr_YKfrj6fl4iDcGA6FV-hTNUcw1Y/s1600/women%2527s-bicycle-class.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="526" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycbT_bWMN-mkxYSBPN7TUs7h9h1B8YtmeGjtFkFmVgkY3mYedU_MCYNJHhKiP8ZMpKDX6jvZ67_UD8E3aJFR6Ex1vzZAkEKw98wjMxPXsldZY68nr_YKfrj6fl4iDcGA6FV-hTNUcw1Y/s320/women%2527s-bicycle-class.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am always on the lookout for great model programs that tap
the freedom of bicycling to help people who are struggling. This recent article
from the Guardian caught my eye because the cycling club it spotlights focuses
on the dignity that cycling can bring to those caught in homelessness. This
cycling club in London shows its women members that they no longer need to be
identified as homeless. They are strong, independent people who can transport
themselves wherever they choose. The article starts off with this:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
A cycling session at Queen Mary
homeless women’s hostel in London starts with some reflection in the tea room.
Eleven women discuss how they’re doing this week, how the cycling went for them
last week and what they’re hoping to build on in today’s session. Then they
push their bikes to a local basketball court to practise in the safety of an
off-road environment. Supported by instructors from Westminster council’s
training team, they practise riding by themselves; pushing off, cycling in a
straight line, looking over one shoulder, turning, keeping going.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Small achievements are important
and depend on the starting point of each woman; for some, keeping going is a
key goal to address physical fitness, for others it is balance or specific
cycling skills. They are all working towards Bikeability Level 1 which enables
them to control a bike safely enough to progress on to quiet roads, making
turns and negotiating traffic. In some sessions the women learn about
map-reading and planning journeys, pumping up tyres and other basic
maintenance. <a href="https://amp.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2018/apr/06/the-cycling-club-helping-homeless-women-regain-independence">Read
more here.</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Enjoy the article and consider how your bicycle programs
could be adapted to welcome homeless people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-65628397206615249742018-04-01T14:39:00.000-07:002018-04-01T14:39:17.734-07:00Social Change through Bicycles and Healthy Organizations<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a><span id="goog_793284354"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_793284355"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The publication of <a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press">my memoir, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bike Hunt</i></a>, gave me the opportunity
to present at various venues and through various media about the power of
bicycles for improving our world. Even though, or perhaps because <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bike Hunt</i> covers my struggle toward that
goal, the book offers the perfect backdrop for intense discussions on this
topic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bicycle is the greatest machine ever invented because it
provides so much for so little. With simple pedal strokes it will transport a
person six times faster than walking and can carry hundreds of pounds. It is
easy to make and available in all parts of the world. When people choose to
travel by bike, they not only improve their own physical health, but the health
of their communities by reducing emissions and noise. And yet, in most
countries, bicycles are only used for fewer than ten percent of trips.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Central to my presentation are the many disturbing barriers to
bicycles being used as a tool for social change. Since the 1950s, the U.S. bicycle
industry has presented bicycles as toys. On top of that, their push to sell <a href="https://www.onestreet.org/resources-for-increasing-bicycling/136-bicycle-helmets">bicycle
helmets has stigmatized bicycling</a> as far more dangerous than it actually
is. Though car occupants suffer 25 times more head injuries than cyclists, the
car industry would never dream of promoting helmets for their customers. Then
there is Hollywood with its portrayal of cyclists as dorks. So it’s no wonder
bicycles are forgotten by social movements (<a href="http://www.blogdefyingpovertywithbicycles.org/2018/01/human-progress-is-neither-automatic-nor.html">see
my last post on Civil Rights</a>) and even the environmental movement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other barrier is one that is faced by all nonprofits –
group dysfunction. In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bike Hunt</i>, I
delve into many of the causes of this, including power grabs and infighting.
Unfortunately, because our bicycle movement is so fragile and undermined by our
bike industry and other stigmas, bicycle nonprofits cannot withstand the forces
of group dysfunction like nonprofits in other movements.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I show in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bike Hunt</i>
and my presentations how to overcome these barriers first by recognizing them
then stopping them at the slightest hint. If you have run into these sorts of
struggles or more, please read the book and visit <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a> to tap into the resources
there.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-70831091742409388412018-01-15T14:12:00.001-07:002018-01-15T21:06:58.872-07:00Human Progress Is Neither Automatic nor Inevitable, MLK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6B54NV1GiG7b7PVLd__f8Ly75baLIrCoMd3OfTiIFVov0eyr1nBMg22d87Ehl9dEKiwp_MYuJJIXLEhQpDi1KXsAh0CrmAvuvbJ2478Kn2eYyyoSnDaKOlAMPbcJn9mHaePrSHLqiFxU/s1600/Martin+Luther+King%252C+Jr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="448" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6B54NV1GiG7b7PVLd__f8Ly75baLIrCoMd3OfTiIFVov0eyr1nBMg22d87Ehl9dEKiwp_MYuJJIXLEhQpDi1KXsAh0CrmAvuvbJ2478Kn2eYyyoSnDaKOlAMPbcJn9mHaePrSHLqiFxU/s320/Martin+Luther+King%252C+Jr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, my favorite holiday
because the man it honors would expect us to work for good on his day rather
than take an actual holiday. I like to start this day by flipping through a
huge volume of his writings, stopping to read random passages. I did that this
morning and found some good ones, but there is one simple quote of his that I
have fixated on this year: “Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fixation on this MLK quote actually began months ago. In
my job at <a href="https://www.onestreet.org/">One Street</a>, I answer calls
for assistance from leaders of bicycle advocacy organizations all over the
world. Since last fall, I have had the great pleasure of working with several
extraordinary nonprofit leaders in some of the most battered areas of our world
including Bosnia, Puerto Rico, and DR Congo. In spite of great odds against
them, whether a recent war or hurricane, or marauding armed gangs, these
nonprofits have become beacons of hope in their communities. But just like
them, I have had to recognize the infection of human malice that has crippled
and even destroyed other nonprofits that have contacted me for help. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Martin’s quote is imbedded in his book from 1958, <i>Stride Toward Freedom: The Montgomery Story</i>,
where he describes the accomplishments of the Civil Rights Movement up to that
point, but shows that much more must be done. I think that he was rightfully
afraid that their successes would cause complacency. But even more than that, I
believe that Martin had seen both the extraordinary potential of humans to overcome
malice as well as the insidiousness of that malice. He knew all too well that
backing off even slightly would allow of flood of brutality back in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over my more than forty years of working with nonprofits, I,
like Martin, have come to realize that our species will not reach a point where
we care for each other and halt brutality without a great effort. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I discussed this with a friend of mine recently and, instead
of simply agreeing, she described a scene where a child is building a tower
with building blocks. He places each block with care choosing his next to
ensure his tower will reach the greatest height. Then another child enters the
room and kicks the tower over. I tried to butt in here to bemoan the human tendency
to destroy things built for good, but she corrected me. The second child did
not kick the tower over in order to destroy it or even to harm the first child.
He did so simply because he could, because it was easy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Working to improve our world and help others is difficult.
Harming it and others is easy. We must keep Martin’s quote in mind as we commit
to this difficult task and always remember that human progress will never be
automatic nor inevitable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-60768215581292145362017-11-29T13:55:00.000-07:002017-11-29T13:55:56.104-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 9: Silver<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the
last in this series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>, I’ve chosen the story of Silver’s
giveaway. He was an all-chrome adult-size stunt BMX bike I’d found at a pawn
shop in San Antonio, Texas. His giveaway was one of the most magical as I found
myself in the right moment in the right place with a bike I’d given the perfect
name. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
After lunch on the
last day of the conference, I rode Silver to the bus stop where I would catch
the bus to the airport, looking for an appropriate recipient along those empty
streets. The bus stop happened to be at the edge of a tiny, lot-sized park,
unusual for that city because it actually invited locals to linger. A hotdog
vendor had a long line waiting. Families were picnicking in the grass. Workers
of all types, some in work pants, others in business attire, sat on the low
rock wall that encircled the lawn. I soaked in the scene before starting my
slow ride around the park to find Silver his new owner.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Halfway
through my second lap, I spotted a man, maybe mid-thirties, wearing clean
worker’s pants and a new plaid shirt, who had just bought a hot dog. The way he
stood holding it, not eating, just thinking, gave me my cue. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Excuse
me,” I said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Yes?”
he asked, obviously suspicious of me riding this BMX bike, a backpack on my
back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
stepped off in front of him in an effort to look a bit more normal. “I’ll be
catching the bus to the airport soon to fly back to <st1:place w:st="on">Arizona</st1:place> where I live. I’ve been riding this
wonderful bike I bought at a pawn shop, but now I need to find someone who can
take care of him. For free, only the commitment to take care of him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
knew I’d gotten his attention when he began asking questions, mostly so I would
repeat that I was soon leaving and could very well leave that bike with him. By
then, his hand had drooped to his side in his amazement and I worried he might
drop the hotdog. He must have caught my glance because he set it down on the
wall. With his hands free, I was able to push Silver toward him until he
grabbed the grips and straddled the frame. He thanked me, then told me how this
bike would add to a turning point that had happened earlier that day. After
months without work, nearly losing his house, he had found a job. Now he could
ride this bike and save bus money. When I told him the bike’s name was Silver,
he clenched his jaw.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“My
daughter’s name... is Silver,” he said, as he turned away so I’d never know if
the tears flowed. I left him like that, not turning back as the bus pulled up
and I jumped on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Silver’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the book.
His is the last of the select series of nine I’ve shared on this blog. All have
the label “Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-81561728347343485482017-11-21T12:20:00.000-07:002017-11-21T12:20:19.867-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 8: Penelope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here in
the United States, we’re enjoying a relaxed week as we prepare for Thanksgiving.
Food is central to Thanksgiving. But we also must remember the reason for this
holiday embedded in its name – appreciation. That’s why, for the next in this
series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><i>,</i></span> I’ve chosen the story of Penelope, a royal blue
mid-1950s Sears single-speed I’d found at a Chicago bike shop. I’ve chosen her
because I gave her to a hungry man who appreciated her more than food. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
The morning after
the workshop, which was not as interesting as I had hoped, I headed south to
give away Penelope, just as I’d done with Sprinter—a Sunday morning with only
one hour to find her a home. The streets were deserted save for a few cars. I
turned onto side streets hoping to find a park or other place where people
gathered. Nothing. Back onto the thoroughfare heading south, all I could see
into the morning glare was miles of vacant sidewalk. My pedal strokes slowed.
The farther I pedaled, the farther I’d have to walk, or pedal, back. A thick
shadow from a hulking freeway flyover crossed the wasteland of blinding
pavement. I was drawn to the shadow more for relief than hope. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
They appeared as
my eyesight adjusted, a line of about thirty forlorn people behind a van with
its double rear doors wide open, stuffed with loaves of bread. From drought to
flood. How was I going to approach thirty people, all of whom likely needed
Penelope? I didn’t have time to worry about it. I followed my instincts as
usual, pedaling slowly up to the line then coasting along its length, waiting
for a sign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Good morning,”
said a young, battered man with blond hair and beard. “Nice bike you have
there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
And we’ve found
our winner. I slammed on the brakes. “Do you need a bike?” I asked him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I sure do!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well,” I said as
I stepped off and leaned Penelope toward him, “it would be my pleasure to give
you this bike.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
He listened,
stunned, as I gave him the spiel. As I handed him the key, the people on both
sides of him in the line patted his shoulders and congratulated him, some
calling him James. He thanked me with his eyes before I turned away, still
enjoying their celebratory chatter as I rounded the corner to begin my long walk
back to the hostel. I was on a different street from the one I had come south
on, peeking into storefronts and windows I wouldn’t have noticed earlier
through my frustration. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
Crossing a side
street, I saw a homeless shelter a few blocks down with a small group of people
gathered outside talking and soaking up the sun. Good to know I would have had
an option if I hadn’t found that breadline. Just as I stepped up onto the curb,
just before the shelter would have vanished from my view, I caught a glimpse of
movement, a flash of blue and that unmistakable blond beard. I stopped, one
foot in the street, the other on the curb to watch a beaming James ride up to
his buddies. He’d left the breadline to show off his new wheels. That guy had
his priorities straight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Penelope’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the
book. I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the
label “Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-38001881420429712762017-11-14T13:35:00.000-07:002017-11-14T13:35:05.246-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 7: Sprinter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxu81b750po_9OlbuEKx6TGB3OjU9akm5PWbO22RI8srLTH6tVhUtMUM-Ahz1iUjaES3iqBoxPxdowL9vzE5RNTbTQdqDTFbqRT83-d0XDF2eOXqx-6sfrSQ1QxqSYAbqCWPTi_PJC4KE/s1600/Sue+passbook+-+cropped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1230" data-original-width="1022" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxu81b750po_9OlbuEKx6TGB3OjU9akm5PWbO22RI8srLTH6tVhUtMUM-Ahz1iUjaES3iqBoxPxdowL9vzE5RNTbTQdqDTFbqRT83-d0XDF2eOXqx-6sfrSQ1QxqSYAbqCWPTi_PJC4KE/s200/Sue+passbook+-+cropped.JPG" width="165" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In
three days, I will step into an official boxing ring to face down a stranger.
The moment the bell rings and the referee says, “Box!” I will attack her with
all the force and control I’ve learned from my coach and training over the past
year. The photo is of me with my official USA Boxing passbook where this first
bout will be recorded. Though it will be my first boxing bout, it’s certainly
not my first standoff with a stranger. That’s why I’ve chosen the story of
Sprinter, a hefty five-speed beach cruiser I found at a Chicago thrift store,
as the next in this series of excerpts from my recently published
memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sprinter’s
story is a miniature of the book because I first relinquished him to a bully, just
as I had relinquished myself to the job. Then, in a flash of honor for my
former courageous self, I snatched him back to complete the Bike Hunt giveaway,
only to face another bully on a desolate South Chicago street. The fighter, the boxer,
who faced down that bully that cold, dreary morning is the part of me I will
have to find on Friday if I expect to win my bout. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Two
months later on November 1<sup>st</sup>, 2004, I stepped out of a youth hostel
in downtown Chicago with Sprinter by my side. It was the end of a quick, nearly
disastrous trip that had centered around another fundraiser for Thunderhead.
Like the <st1:city w:st="on">San Francisco</st1:city> fundraiser, I had
expected the <st1:place w:st="on">Chicago</st1:place>
bike advocates to step forward in droves to lend a hand, encouraged to help by
the board chair. He was also a leader of the local Chicago bicycle advocacy
organization, so he had the means to mobilize a small army and he had assured
me he would. This is why I had organized the fundraiser in <st1:place w:st="on">Chicago</st1:place>. Instead, a month before the event,
after I’d reserved the room, secured auction items, and scheduled the speakers,
not one of the local bike advocates had helped with ticket sales, promotions,
or spreading the word. In the end it was all I could do to get a few dozen
people to attend the expensive affair, even resorting to begging my in-laws to
help fill the room. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
At
the event, after the presentation of a big check from an industry sponsor who
would have given it anyway and having introduced the next speaker, I nervously
worked the sparse room wishing I had rented a smaller one so it would look more
crowded, greeting each precious attendee like royalty. Thunderhead ended up losing
money, but thankfully not much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
When
I’d arrived in <st1:place w:st="on">Chicago</st1:place>,
I’d simply gone to the board chair’s house and taken Sprinter. I’d told him I
was going to do this via email, in statement form, not a question. His wife
seemed relieved to get rid of the hefty bike. I was relieved to have him back
under my care.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
That
last morning, I stepped out into the chilly November air, a light drizzle
falling. It was just past seven o’clock, a Monday morning. Even though it was a
weekday, I knew my prospects would be slim in such miserable weather. I swung
my leg over, took a few pedal strokes, and let Sprinter roll off the curb into
the nearly empty street. I headed south because that’s where I’d seen the most
people who seemed to be struggling, some homeless with bedrolls, others worn
out from life’s relentless attacks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
saw him after several long blocks, his back to me, facing a fence to get a
pocket of dry air to light his cigarette. He wasn’t quite frail, not quite old,
but definitely sad. I veered across the four lanes of the wide street and
bounced up onto the sidewalk, easing Sprinter to a stop not far from him. I
gave my spiel as soon as he turned, unlit cigarette back in his hand as he took
in my words.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Heck
yeah, I need a bike!” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I’d
found Sprinter’s new home. It took me over a year, but I did it. Maybe this is
what I needed, what that green-eyed man in <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place> had prayed for me to get.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Okay,”
I said, as I rolled Sprinter close enough so he could grab the handlebar, “he’s
your bike now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
But
he didn’t reach out. Instead he recoiled and stepped back to cower next to the
fence, his eyes terrified, looking past me. I turned to find a muscular youth
towering over me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“You
gonna give <i>him</i> that bike?” the punk
spat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“I
already did,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Give
it to me,” the punk said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“It’s
okay, it’s okay,” the man stammered. “I really don’t need a bike. He can have
it.” He turned and began walking away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Wait,”
I said, maybe a bit too loud, “come back here. This is your bike. I don’t know
who the fuck this guy is, but he sure as hell isn’t getting this bike!” This
was Sprinter, damn it, and I wasn’t going to let any more bullies take him from
me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
turned to glare at the punk. Fire must have been shooting out of my eyes
because he stepped back. I turned to find the timid man shuffling back toward
me through the misty rain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“You
sure it’s mine?” he said, half asking, half convincing himself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Damn
straight this bike is yours! And don’t ever let anyone take him away from you.
Promise me that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“I
promise,” he said, his grin returning as he finally took hold of the handlebar,
swung his leg over, grabbed the key from my outstretched hand, and rode away,
back straight and proud. When I turned around, the bully had vanished.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sprinter’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the
book. I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the
label “Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-58229123571980815322017-11-08T11:34:00.000-07:002017-11-08T11:34:25.935-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 6: Jane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the
next in this series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>, I’ve chosen the story of
Jane’s giveaway. She was an immaculate, bright red mountain bike from the
mid-1980s with all her original Suntour parts still shiny. I’d found her like a
buried treasured at the bottom of a pile of department store bikes at the back
of a thrift store in Seattle. Jane and I traveled by ferry to Victoria, British
Columbia for two bicycle gatherings, and that’s where I gave her away to an
enchanting green-eyed man. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
On my last morning after the
conference in Victoria that followed the retreat, I walked out onto the
sidewalk in front of the conference venue with Jane at my side. Jane deserved
to find a home like her original owner must have given her, someone who would
care for her and appreciate how special she was. I started down the wide,
landscaped sidewalk, past caringly pruned young trees and flower boxes, benches
and public art. I’d never seen such an adorned city, designed first for flowers
and trees, a fitting place for Jane.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
The people I passed all seemed
content and busy with their tasks. I’d only walked a few blocks when I spotted
him, a somewhat overweight middle-aged man dressed in colorful rags, settled on
a bench, his dreadlocks bundled under a billowing knitted cap of yellow, red,
and green. I stopped to figure out what he was doing. He was counting change in
his palm. With careful steps I approached, trying not to startle him in his
vulnerable task. I stopped again about ten feet away and waited, watching his
dark finger as it moved each coin to the edge of his palm. The finger froze on
a silver coin and he looked up, his brilliant green eyes electrifying me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean
to interrupt you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m
afraid I don’t have enough anyway. How can I help you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I need to find someone who
needs a bike, who can take care of this bike, who...” my emotion got the better
of me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Can you start again? I’m not
quite sure what you’re getting at,” he said in a soothing voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Would you like this bike?” I
blurted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I would love that bike,” he
said with conviction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“She’s all yours,” I said, then
realized this man had no idea of the background. I was so concerned about
finding Jane a great home, I had completely blown my giveaway spiel. I quickly
filled in the missing parts about finding her at the Goodwill in Seattle and
riding her during my week of meetings, that I had to find her a new home
because I was leaving for my home in Arizona in a few hours. As I spoke, his
face gradually shifted from his serious change-counting expression to
jubilation. I rolled Jane close enough so he could reach her handlebar then let
her go when he reached out. “She’s a beauty,” I said, “All original, a classic
mountain bike from the mid ‘80s.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I can see she’s a beauty,” he
said as he studied her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I’m so glad you can give her a
good home. And here’s the key to her lock.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“It’s my pleasure to give her a
home,” he said, carefully taking the key. “In fact, you have given me exactly
what I needed most. When you approached, I was counting my money to see if I
had enough for one bus ride. Now, with this bike, I will never have to pay for a
bus trip again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I could only smile in response
because I couldn’t find any words.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Now, there’s just one more
thing I want,” he said, fixing his eyes on mine. “I want you to get exactly
what you need too. I will pray for this, that you get exactly what you need.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
As I stood there, captivated by
his green, determined eyes, I wondered what that might be. All my reference
points had been replaced with what I believed Thunderhead needed. I let his
words be the last between us, nodded with appreciation, and left him and Jane
together on that majestic street.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jane’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the book.
I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the label
“Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-36719730092889739312017-10-31T13:03:00.000-07:002017-10-31T13:03:04.732-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 5: Rebel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today
is Halloween, which sets my mind on an eerie bike hunt giveaway in Denver back
in 2001. It was my fourth attempt at a Bike Hunt and my first true giveaway.
The scene that unfolded that cold early morning still reminds me of ghosts and
that gut-wrench possibility of goblins. That’s why I’ve chosen the story of
Rebel, a battered blue mountain bike with dodgy brakes, for the next in this
series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
The
frigid pre-dawn air smacked me as I stepped through the sliding glass hotel
entry rolling Rebel at my side. Had I not had this urgent errand, I would have
turned right around and headed back to my cozy room to wait out the hour before
the airport shuttle would arrive. One hour to scan the unfamiliar streets of
downtown <st1:place w:st="on">Denver</st1:place>
for the proper recipient of Rebel—a worn, but sturdy mountain bike I’d bought
at a pawn shop two days before. October 2001, an early winter. This was the
wrap up of my fourth Bike Hunt, my first deliberate giveaway. Pony, in
Philadelphia, had inspired the hunt. Fifi, in D.C., had broadened my
expectations. And Purple Flash, in Wenatchee, had sweetened it all with her
giveaway. I had to get this one right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I’d
been riding Rebel to the various meetings scheduled around a transportation
summit for western officials and advocates. He was a good bike, brakes a bit
sketchy, but he rolled smooth, shifted well, and actually came to a stop if I
squeezed both levers hard. His blue paint was scratched through in many spots
though I could see he was once a looker. The pawn shop owner had lent me the
few tools I needed to tighten his hubs, adjust his stem, and rethread the left
pedal that had nearly fallen off. I named him Rebel because he had obviously
faced great odds, but he had a certain vigor to him as soon as I pedaled off,
as if he’d hated being cooped up in that pawn shop.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
donned my helmet (a bad habit I had back then) and started pedaling, fighting
the urge to pedal fast against the cold. Granules of snow pelted my face and
sugarcoated the few people out, walking fast, pre-rush hour. Even though this
was my first deliberate Bike Hunt giveaway, I knew Rebel’s new owner could be
anyone I passed. I needed to take it slow, study each face, find the one with a
bit of sadness, something missing in their life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
turned onto the 16<sup>th</sup> Street Mall where I’d seen homeless people the
night before laying out their blankets in doorways. The 16<sup>th</sup> Street
Mall was formerly a traffic-filled city street, but it no longer admitted cars,
only pedestrians, cyclists, and a free tram that moseyed down the center. This
allowed me to zig and zag from doorway to doorway across the street and back.
But I kept striking out. All I could see were mounds of blankets, cardboard,
and newspaper with a bit of sugarcoating for effect. Come to think of it, if
I’d slept in a doorway the night before, I sure as heck wouldn’t be throwing
back my blankets anytime soon either, at least not until the sun was well up.
And I wasn’t about to go up and nudge any of the mounds. Picture that: Nudge,
“Hiya, do you want a bicycle?” Let’s just say that wasn’t an option.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
checked my watch—only half an hour before I had to be back at the hotel in time
to grab my things and bolt to the shuttle. The farther I went, the longer it
would take to walk back. I was nearing the end of the pedestrian mall area with
only the endless expanse of the unfamiliar city stretching beyond. I shook off
the thought of failure. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Only
three doorways with mounds remained before I’d have to venture out into the
untamed streets. As my heart sank with the prospect of traveling too far to
walk back in time for my shuttle, I glanced to my right down a side street at
an eerie scene. In the beam of a streetlamp, a billow of ghostly steam whirled
up against the descending snow. At first, all I saw was the steam, then a dark
shape and then all seven of them, palms pushing down as they rocked back and
forth. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Standing
on my pedals, squeezing hard on the brake levers, I nearly fell over as Rebel
eased to a stop. It took all my will not to ride full speed right at them and
tell them how excited I was to find them. I carefully eased my leg over the
seat, composed myself, and walked as nonchalantly as I could toward the group. They
were about half a block away, time enough for me to practice my line, and then
I realized I had a big problem—what if they all wanted Rebel? I stopped. No, it
was my last chance. Time was evaporating with each hesitation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
With
careful steps forward I studied the group. They were Native American, likely a
family, four generations. There was a boy, maybe four or five, too small for
Rebel. There was an old woman, grey streaks in her long black hair held back
with a turquoise-inlaid clasp, and an old man with a black cowboy hat and deep
grooves in his face. They wouldn’t want him, would they? A middle-aged man
draped with a colorful blanket hardly looked up, unlikely to get involved. That
left the three who looked to be in their teens and twenties, one girl, the
others guys. Still a problem. I kept moving, much less excited than a few
minutes before. I decided to let it play out and follow my instincts, bail if I
needed to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
walked right toward them along the sidewalk, carefully watching each face
through the dancing billows of steam, especially the three. The old man stepped
back, shielding the old woman. The kid squeezed between their legs. The three
stood their ground. I kept walking. About ten feet from them I stopped. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hi,” I said, and
that’s all. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I waited. But I
didn’t have to wait long. One of the young men—maybe seventeen, Broncos team
jacket, shoulder-length black hair, inquisitive expression—stepped forward.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hi,” he said.
“How’s it going?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
Problem solved. He
would get Rebel. I delivered my story directly to him, not the others. I
explained that I’d bought the bike to ride during a conference, but I needed to
find him a home before I left that morning. He listened carefully with his eyes
on Rebel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“How much you want
for it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Nothing, except
your promise to take good care of him. I named him Rebel.” I wasn’t sure if I
should have said this, but when he looked up at me and smiled, I was glad I
had.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I’ll take good
care of him, I promise,” he said as he reached out to touch the handlebar grip.
I let go, so he had to grab it before the bike fell.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“He’s all yours.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
He swung his new
bike to his side, then crouched down to look at the wheels and gears.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“How many gears?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Eighteen. The
brakes are a bit worn, but if you use both at the same time it’s no problem. He
rides real smooth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
With that he stood
and turned to the group, showing them his new ride. Though his back was to me,
his elation was reflected in their faces. Then I remembered the lock, a new
detail I’d added for this Bike Hunt. I’d brought an inexpensive coil lock to
give away with the bike so the recipient wouldn’t have to worry about it
getting stolen. The lock was dangling from the back of the seat, the key still
in my pocket. I fished for it and brought it out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I almost forgot,
you’ll need the key to the lock.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
He turned around,
looked down at my outstretched hand and back up into my face as if I’d offered
him <i>another</i> million dollars. He took
the key, speechless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
That was it.
Success. I was about to turn to leave when the old man, hidden behind the
steam, abruptly spoke.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Wait,” he said as
he stepped through the group to face me, his hand strangely patting his hat.
The young man with Rebel was still smiling so I knew this wasn’t a threat. “Can
you give my grandson a hat too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
It took me a minute
to figure out what he was saying. A helmet, he wanted me to give his grandson a
helmet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“No,” I said, now
also patting my helmeted head. “I only have this one. I’m sorry.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“That’s okay,” he
said and paused to admire the bike with his grandson. “Thanks for the bike. He
needs it. He’s looking for a job this week and this will help him. We need the
money as you can see.” Then he slipped back behind the steam.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I wished the young
man good luck on his job hunt and in reply he held out his right fist. I’d never
seen this before, but instinctively I made a fist and touched it to his before
turning and walking away. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rebel’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the book.
I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the label
“Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-79361006986807777062017-10-24T10:24:00.000-07:002017-10-24T10:24:02.800-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 4: George<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
week, I’ve been working with my Bosnian colleagues to develop a campaign
planning workshop series in Bosnia and Herzegovina for the fall of 2018. So, for
the next in this series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>, I’d like to share a story
from the Balkans. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
George was a mistreated metallic-blue mountain bike I bought
in Pula, Croatia before the annual general meeting of the European Cyclists’
Federation, which took place on the island of Veliki Brijun, a short ferry ride
from Pula. George found his new home inland, in the city of Zagreb, thanks to
my bike advocate friend Darinka. This was the first time I’d seen the Bike Hunt
through someone else’s eyes. Enjoy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
On my last
afternoon, Darinka joined me for George’s giveaway. As we pedaled downtown and
into an open square of mingling crowds surrounded by ornate buildings, I warned
Darinka that sometimes the giveaway can be quite difficult, though I had no
idea what we were in for. After nearly two hours of Darinka giving the spiel in
Croatian to countless people as I played her sidekick showcasing George, we
both slumped onto the edge of a fountain to regroup. Everyone we had approached
was either too busy or already had a bicycle. We had just decided to make
another full circle of the square when we both spotted the same man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“That’s him,” I
said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“That is
definitely him,” she said as we walked toward him as casually as possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
His sadness showed
in his slow stride and slouched shoulders. I guessed he was in his forties, a
worker with blue carpenter’s pants and short, dusty blond hair. He had
sauntered out of the crowd on the edge of the square and was slowly making his
way to the other side. Darinka caught his attention and began the spiel. He
listened intently, looking slightly down at her. When she was done, he glanced
over at me and George, then back to Darinka to ask careful questions. She
started getting excited, explaining and pointing at George then pointing at
him, showing him the bike would be all his. That’s when his face lit up and I
swear he grew several inches as he turned to gaze at George. I pushed George
into his hands and he pulled him close. Darinka went on talking as I fumbled
for the key. I had to nudge him to pull his attention away from the bike and
hand him the key, pointing to the lock. He took it as his face spread into joy
and a tear formed in his eye. He sucked in some air and spoke to Darinka before
throwing his leg over the bike and pedaling away. We both watched him disappear
into the crowd and then Darinka sprang into a wild twirling dance around me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“That was
incredible!” she shouted, jumping and dancing in a circle so I had to keep
turning to see her. “He told me his bike had been stolen weeks ago and he’d
been walking for hours each day to and from work because he had no money for
another bike. We just changed that man’s life!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
Watching the
effect of the Bike Hunt giveaway through Darinka’s reaction, laughing and
exclaiming along with her in the middle of that city of survivors, I could step
back and see it, see why the Bike Hunt had become so essential to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
George’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the book.
I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the label
“Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-60531752168233008642017-10-16T12:20:00.000-07:002017-10-16T12:20:38.679-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 3: The Iron Maiden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the
next in this series of excerpts from my recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>, I’ve chosen a bike hunt
story that reminds me how grateful I am to be healthy and able-bodied. This
last weekend was full of training, competing, and celebrating with my boxing
and tennis friends. Because of stories like this bike hunt, I know that just
one injury would sever these joys from my life. That thought is a gut punch to
me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So today I give you the story of The Iron Maiden who helped
one man move freely again. She was a heavy steel, industrial blue, women’s-frame
ten-speed bike from a thrift store in Denver, which I took to Boulder for a
visit with a friend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
The next morning,
I headed straight to the shelter. As I pedaled up, there were a dozen guys
hanging out in a tight group. I stopped in the street next to them, got their
attention, gave my spiel and settled back on The Iron Maiden’s seat to take in
the reaction. Some laughed, others elbowed, teasing one guy that he needed a
bike to lose some weight, another that he could use it to leave town. Watching
the faces I was starting to wonder if I’d come up dry, when I heard a voice
from below.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I need a bike,” the
voice said, this time sincere. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I looked down to
find lying on the sidewalk a Grizzly Adams type, complete with beard and
tussled blond hair, crutches at his side. I tuned out the jeers and moved
closer to hear him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“My bike got
stolen about three months ago,” he continued, “and ever since, this sciatic
nerve has plagued me. When I was riding that bike, I was fine, could even work.
Now look at me. I’m a damned cripple.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
The jeers had
stopped. They were listening too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Wow,” I said,
“You definitely need a bike. But how do you know you can actually ride her?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
Rather than
answer, he struggled to sit up and then get to his feet, wincing. One of the
other guys helped him get his crutches. I got off The Iron Maiden and lined her
up near the curb. Using his crutches, he lowered himself into the street, then
handed them back to the guy who had helped. He took hold of her handlebar, slid
his leg carefully through her low-curved frame and eased himself onto the
saddle. The group hushed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh yeah,” he
said, like a mountain man astride a wild horse, “I can ride her, no problem.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I named her The
Iron Maiden,” I said. “You feel her weight?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“That’s cool,” he
said with a daring grin as he gazed at all sides of his new ride. “That’s the
perfect name for her.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
At this, the group
erupted into hoots and applause.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Iron Maiden’s Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout
the book. I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have
the label “Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-48656885742151589512017-10-11T13:18:00.000-07:002017-10-11T13:18:29.730-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 2: Jim Lucas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyDmCwbQkSN9929ZSYvnNy2b2tXyv5Y25c1ygtQTcXArtFrHdhWVwUk2hzOJPTFm1BcarWXhP6wNDN13xHuDCcgzjWSPfnTC9qc-vRsCcBV_ebkVyM-2QiNOmBXq8vDgMhcJ8jp0WPYA/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My recently published memoir, <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press"><i>Bike Hunt</i></a>, is based on my disturbing
time as executive director of the Thunderhead Alliance back in the early 2000s.
Interlaced throughout the book are my stories of hunting for then giving away
used bicycles when I travel. Those bike hunts kept me from losing myself as I
fell into that abusive situation, so I recall them with fine detail. Readers
seem to enjoy them. Plus, each bike hunt story shows the significant impact a
bicycle can have on someone who is struggling. So, I have decided to offer a
series of my favorite bike hunts in this blog. Today is Story 2: Jim Lucas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve chosen the Jim Lucas bike hunt story because it reminds
me of the bike hunt I just enjoyed. I spent the last four days in Oakland,
California for a community land trust conference. Upon arrival in Oakland, I asked
a few people at the subway exit where I could find a used bike. A three-block
walk later, I found myself settled into the backroom repair area of a sweet
bike shop where the owner takes pride in helping his neighbors. Andre had
agreed to sell me a traumatized black Schwinn commuter bike whose bottom
bracket had been ridden into dust. After more than an hour of wrenching and
replacing parts, black grease up to my elbows, I rolled my new ride, dubbed
Otis, out the door to pedal through the graffitied neighbor to my Airbnb room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the surgical beginning of Otis’ bike hunt was not what
reminded me of Jim Lucas. Instead, like Jim Lucas’ giveaway, it was my chance
to connect with a heartbroken woman in downtown Oakland and give her a bike. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday morning, I’d only managed to spare fifteen minutes
to find Otis a home before the conference session began. I pedaled him slowly
away from the conference venue forcing myself not to rush, but to look at faces
instead. After a few blocks, I glimpsed the hunched form of a thirty-something
black woman sitting on a fire hydrant. I had to interrupt her deep conversation
with herself. I think I was the first person to talk with her for a while,
because a tear formed in one of her eyes as she folded me into her conversation
and I jumped along with her scattered threads.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned about her mother’s struggles and that she is now
in a home or institution that is difficult to reach. She told me about a brutal
beating that seemed to be her explanation for her ramblings—messed up her mind.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When she realized I was giving her the bike, the tears
flowed. She’d had once had a red Schwinn, but it was stolen. I showed her the
lock and key dangling from the seat so she wouldn’t have to worry about that.
We shook hands and I dashed back to the conference, only slightly late for my
session, though it took me some time to refocus.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So today my excerpt from <i>Bike
Hunt</i> is the bike hunt giveaway story in Chicago of Jim Lucas, a beautifully preserved 1950s
black Raleigh three-speed:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
I pedaled downtown the next day
to give Jim Lucas away. As I turned onto Michigan Avenue, its wide expanse
between skyscrapers and landscaped median forced me to choose a side. I chose
the southbound side and slowed to a crawl to study the passing faces. Most of
the pedestrians were in suits or fancy dresses rushing to important places.
Behind this flow of people I spotted a stationary man. He was sitting on a
rolled-up blanket, his smudged, bearded face watching the people pass as if he
was at a tennis match. No one stopped to drop coins into his hat. His sign read
simply, “Please.” I liked that. No specifics, just a polite please. I used to
add that word to the end of my hitchhiking signs. Still, I wanted to make sure
he’d take care of Jim Lucas before committing. After rolling up to him, I could
tell he didn’t see me because he was so focused on the rush in front of him.
I’d come from the side and was no longer moving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hi,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Huh?” he said. “Geez, where did
you come from?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Sorry to surprise you,” I said,
moving my eyes back to the swirling crowd for a moment to let him get used to
me. “So,” I began again, “what’s your story?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
He sat up a bit, obviously
pleased that I’d asked and scooched a bit closer to me as I leaned down across
the handlebar to listen. He started by asking my name. His was A. J. Then he
told me of thieves and beatings, the fear he felt each night when he tried to
sleep, the vulnerability he was growing so tired of. And then, as if to balance
this fear, he told me how much he still loved his girlfriend who had left him
nearly a year before to fend for himself on the street. When I asked him if a
bike would help, he frowned, saying he couldn’t buy a bike. But when I
explained further, his blue eyes brightened. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“Would you really give me that
beautiful bike?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
“I would be honored to give you
this beautiful bike,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
He stood up slowly, his eyes on
Jim Lucas. I pushed him into A. J.’s hands and he swung his leg over to
straddle the frame. After one quick glance at me he jumped onto the saddle and
started riding in a circle, disrupting the flow of people who had to step
sideways and then collide with others. A. J. no longer cared about them as he
laughed and chattered about all the places he could go now, riding many more
circles on the sidewalk. He coasted to a stop in front of me to give me a hug.
As I walked away, he chanted my name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jim Lucas’ Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the
book. I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the
label “Bike Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-87139120030539352912017-10-02T13:53:00.000-07:002017-10-02T13:53:38.173-07:00Bike Hunt Stories Show the Power of Bicycles - Story 1: Peaches<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdw8L7B8Ppl1i5AuAg-65Pa7LCpkOmpAZHenAlhwzfiEunFRZmvbDwwHd8BEr80vOJi4vPb1cb_Dzl00ODdNCBgOlHa_DUVlOoSk89TtFA-OGpN0kmZtLnMKNpiBYSGt2rZYrfcqp5fR8/s1600/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdw8L7B8Ppl1i5AuAg-65Pa7LCpkOmpAZHenAlhwzfiEunFRZmvbDwwHd8BEr80vOJi4vPb1cb_Dzl00ODdNCBgOlHa_DUVlOoSk89TtFA-OGpN0kmZtLnMKNpiBYSGt2rZYrfcqp5fR8/s320/Bike+Hunt+cover_frontonly_highres.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since publishing my memoir, <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/one-street-press">Bike
Hunt</a></i>, at the end of August, I’ve had many deep discussions with readers
via email, phone, and Facebook as well as in person. The Interbike trade show a
few weeks ago drew readers to the One Street booth to share their thoughts
inspired by the book.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The top theme of these discussions has been how and why
humans tend to act so badly in groups. This plays out in many nonprofits, and
certainly played out at the Thunderhead Alliance while I was the director there
in the early 2000s – the timeframe of the book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Running a close second for readers’ are my detailed accounts
of what I call Bike Hunts – my tales of searching for and then giving away used
bikes whenever I travel. During my disturbing time at Thunderhead, my Bike
Hunts were my only connections back to the world I’d known before taking the
job. They were so important to me, I recall fine details of these precious
moments simply helping strangers with bicycles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each Bike Hunt story shows the significant impact a bicycle
can have on someone who is struggling, though it’s simply me giving a bicycle
to another person. No anti-poverty program. No ribbon cutting. No media. Just
two human beings and a bicycle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I thought I’d share some of my favorite Bike Hunt stories
from <i>Bike Hunt</i> in this blog, starting
with a bright pink girl’s BMX bike I found at a Goodwill during a conference in
Miami and named Peaches:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
On
the last evening there, after Gayle and I packed up the booth and dealt with
the shipping service, I wheeled Peaches out the front door to find her new
home. It was already dark and I worried that anyone I approached might be even
more suspicious of me than usual when trying to give away a bike. I pedaled Peaches
carefully along the busy, multi-lane road, the typical road type I’d seen all
over the area. No wonder there were so few people riding bicycles there. Cars
swept past my left shoulder as I focused on keeping the handlebar straight,
scanning the sidewalks for someone who would adore Peaches. The few people out
were rushing somewhere else, no time for a bright pink bike. I rode on into the
night, heading west away from the city and into hardened neighborhoods where
iron bars were favored over business signs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Ahead,
three small figures were walking much slower than the other people I’d seen.
They were speaking softly as they walked, looking at each other rather than the
sidewalk. One was likely the mother, barely five feet tall. The boy was only a
bit smaller than she was, perhaps ten years old. The smallest was a young girl
and she had on a pink coat. I swear Peaches sped up as soon as I spotted them,
but I pedaled back to slow down. I didn’t want to startle them so I eased onto
the sidewalk at the next driveway and got off to walk toward them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Excuse
me,” I said, and watched with dismay as they all jumped back in fright. “I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
The
boy whispered in Spanish to his sister and mother and they both nodded at him.
“It’s okay,” he said, and stepped in front to lead them past me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Just
a minute,” I said, “can I ask you something?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“Yes,
of course,” he said as he stopped to listen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
I
gave him my giveaway spiel and suggested maybe his sister would like the bike.
When I had finished, he nodded to show he understood, then turned to the other
two to translate, taking his role as translator and negotiator very seriously.
As he retold my story in Spanish, both of their faces brightened, and when he
came to the end, the girl jumped up and down, still staring up into her
brother’s face as if to make sure he’d really said it. The mother began
speaking very rapidly as the boy encouraged her with “si, si.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
He
turned back to me. “My sister would be very happy to accept the bicycle,” he
said in a business-like tone, “and my mother would like to thank you very much.
You see, yesterday was my sister’s eighth birthday and she had hoped for a
bicycle.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
The
Bike Hunt had succeeded yet again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Peaches’ Bike Hunt story is one of many throughout the book.
I’ve got my eye on several more to share on this blog. All will have the label “Bike
Hunt” so you can easily find them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Better yet, you can buy your own copy of <i>Bike Hunt </i>to read all of the stories and
more. Find it through any online book vendor worldwide (Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, etc.) or order it through your local book store. We also have copies for
sale at <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">www.OneStreet.org</a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-16360871622375211172017-07-04T13:27:00.000-07:002017-07-04T13:27:22.900-07:00Bristol Bike Project Transforming LivesOne Street's <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/component/content/article/56-resources/others/69-social-bike-business-program-" target="_blank">Social Bike Business program</a> and our accompanying book <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/70-one-street-press" target="_blank">Defying Poverty with Bicycles</a></i> encourage the creation of bicycle community centers where everyone feels welcome. Such places are rare because attempts often derail toward idealistic elitism (<a href="http://www.blogdefyingpovertywithbicycles.org/2014/05/are-bike-kitchens-elitist-by-choice.html" target="_blank">read more in this post</a>) or toward profits without regard to who is served (<a href="http://www.blogdefyingpovertywithbicycles.org/search/label/Bike%20Industry" target="_blank">read posts labeled bike industry</a>).<br />
<br />
So when we find a great model, we've got to share it. The <a href="http://www.thebristolbikeproject.org/" target="_blank">Bristol Bike Project</a> even emphasizes keeping used bikes in their community in their tagline - something we encourage instead of shipping them overseas. Learn all about them on <a href="http://www.thebristolbikeproject.org/" target="_blank">their website</a>.<br />
<br />
This article introduces the Bristol Bike Project including great photos of their work in action:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-NEF-i9GDJNtBuVzM_lvElQClj0sUx6oY3n1ZKwxMCD0n5Cj3BQDiYsh2sBpluKVQkX-8BL-8Oqzj2AcNqp9mzdkwyfY0X2f3lUt1eGY2v832a10BG7OevDdpywo48Wh2HYH5OJLkFI/s1600/Bristol-Bike-Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-NEF-i9GDJNtBuVzM_lvElQClj0sUx6oY3n1ZKwxMCD0n5Cj3BQDiYsh2sBpluKVQkX-8BL-8Oqzj2AcNqp9mzdkwyfY0X2f3lUt1eGY2v832a10BG7OevDdpywo48Wh2HYH5OJLkFI/s320/Bristol-Bike-Project.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
From Huck Magazine, Pivot Points: Stories of Change<br />
Posted Wednesday 21st June 2017, Text By James Arthur Allen<br />
<br />
<i>Bath-based photographer James Arthur Allen learns a valuable lesson in the power of community from a project.</i><br />
<br />
Stokes Croft in the city of Bristol has long been a hotbed of creativity and activism: a microcosm that retains its independent roots even in a time of increased gentrification and development. Nestled under the Banksy-adorned Hamilton House, an otherwise standard five-storey office block, lies the Bristol Bike Project (BBP), a workshop-cum-bike shop that sells second-hand steeds and offers maintenance courses.<br />
<br />
But BBP is no ordinary bike pitstop: people who walk through these doors never really leave.<br />
<br />
Founded in 2008 by James Lucas and Colin Fan, the project has grown into a full-time enterprise that supports and equips vulnerable groups in the local community through the humble bicycle. At the core of the project is their Earn-a-Bike programme, set up so that people from all walks of life – from asylum seekers and at-risk youth, to anyone living on the margins – can learn basic mechanics and earn a bicycle in the process: there are no hand-outs here.<br />
<br />
BBP operates as a not-for-profit workers’ co-operative with a flat structure of pay. “All profits are channelled back into our volunteer-run programme,” says James, who also founded Boneshaker magazine as an outlet for his two-wheeled passion. “The programme is inspired by the Chinese proverb: ‘Tell me and I’ll forget. Show me and I may remember. Involve me and I will understand.’”<br />
<br />
Co-founder James Lucas has long believed in the transformative power of bikes.<br />
<br />
This philosophy leads to a hustle and bustle that doesn’t limit itself to staff. On a sunny day in early June, Julien and Big Al, both experienced bike mechanics, are running the Fix-a-Bike session, overseeing volunteers at six busy work stations. Customers, volunteers and users of the project rub shoulders as they work alongside one another, talking bikes and life, exchanging skills and advice, and generally having a laugh.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.huckmagazine.com/photo-stories/kodak-ektra/bristol-bike-project-transforming-lives-power-wheels/" target="_blank">Read more and see all the great photos in the original article here.</a>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-40890427774986864032017-04-30T11:48:00.000-07:002017-04-30T11:48:00.166-07:00Vision Zero Blind to Racism<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve
been uneasy about Vision Zero initiatives since the first policy was adopted in
Sweden in the late ‘90s. A government policy that mandates zero traffic deaths creates
a system that supports corrupt and brutal tactics in order to reach such a
drastic goal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My
initial concern was that Vision Zero is the perfect backdrop for mandating
bicycle helmets, even though <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/resources-for-increasing-bicycling/136-bicycle-helmets">bike
helmets offer little if any protection in crashes</a>. Such laws do
immeasurable damage to bicycle advocacy by creating a barrier to bicycling,
blaming the victims in crashes, and making bicycling seem far more dangerous
than it is.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2ricQAMVSFmA81aMMB7UqWHgarqQwhun9MrCbypKQMgebXwAofeMsY3QMGgKJ47UqeLh_KtHqulPOqvNhXWAzZ59G4vrJB2ZLSP0CIN3AV0Tj4qe4Aar2DANcdJk1sx-xlhtxUhRzTo/s1600/Neighborhood-Bike-Works.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2ricQAMVSFmA81aMMB7UqWHgarqQwhun9MrCbypKQMgebXwAofeMsY3QMGgKJ47UqeLh_KtHqulPOqvNhXWAzZ59G4vrJB2ZLSP0CIN3AV0Tj4qe4Aar2DANcdJk1sx-xlhtxUhRzTo/s320/Neighborhood-Bike-Works.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But
until a few days ago, I had not associated my unease over Vision Zero with
racism and enabling police brutality. Thanks to this article (pasted below) from
<a href="http://neighborhoodbikeworks.org/">Neighborhood Bike Works</a> in
Philadelphia, my concern over Vision Zero has more than doubled.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
clicked on the Vision Zero link in the article, then the action plan for Philadelphia
to find that the term “enforcement” is used 34 times in as many pages. Not a
good sign. In communities where people care about each other, enforcement must
be the lowest priority.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Read
through the article and if you have further ideas and other concerns about
Vision Zero, please offer them in the comments section. And if you live in
Philadelphia, be sure to take the survey linked on that Vision Zero page.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>No Racism on Safe
Streets<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Racism
and its sinister effects are everywhere – the streets included. At Neighborhood
Bike Works (NBW) we’ve recognized that the roadways (and elsewhere) must be for
everyone and that the long history of creating streets safe only for well-off,
white people shouldn’t follow us forward anymore. In the effort for safe
streets and the newer attempt to eliminate all traffic deaths (an effort called
<a href="http://www.visionzerophl.com/">Vision Zero</a>), we must scrutinize
the offered solutions to ensure that they protect the most vulnerable road
users. This is a challenge with Vision Zero, however, since erratic enforcement
of traffic and other laws further endanger vulnerable road users, especially
people of color.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Paul
Hetznecker, a Philadelphia civil rights attorney pointed out to PlanPhilly, “traffic
stops have been used as pretexts for unconstitutional search and seizure.” This
means that even as we work to make streets safer and to eliminate traffic
deaths, we must remember that speed cameras, police presence, and other
increased enforcement measures can result in targeting and surveilling people
of color on city streets. At NBW, we’ve
seen that police presence intimidate and harm NBW youth, program alumni, and
other members of our close community. At
times NBW youth graduates have been accused of stealing bikes they’ve earned at
NBW. Officers have assumed that a black youth in Philadelphia couldn’t
rightfully own a high quality bike. This has happened more than once, at more
than one NBW site. Again and again, we’ve heard those in the NBW community
share violent, terrifying stories of police brutality on city streets. One
effect of this inequitable, increased enforcement is that people, including
those in our NBW community, sometimes choose to stay at home, instead of
joining in programs or activities. Sometimes the trip just isn’t worth the
outsized risk of being pulled over or harassed on the street, seemingly at
random.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re
encouraged that in Philadelphia, bike advocates have acknowledged the risks
inherent in stepped up traffic enforcement in communities of color.
Furthermore, red light camera bills have civil liberties protections written
into them to protect against government overreach.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
risks of escalated police interaction have led many local advocates to favor
infrastructure improvements over enforcement. These improvements could include
broadly and strategically distributed amenities such as protected bike lanes,
traffic calming measures, recreation paths, crosswalk countdown timers, and
street lights. Each time there is a proposed infrastructure project, we ask for
people to raise the critical questions to ensure that we course correct decades
of uneven, unfair infrastructure projects. You can ask questions like: Who
benefits from this project? Who does it leave out? How could it be improved to
make its benefits more widespread? How
can this project center the wellness and prosperity of communities of color and
other communities that have seen disinvestment?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We
don’t have “the solution”, but we know it involves a likely messy merger of the
Vision Zero effort with people and groups vigilant against racial profiling,
inequitable distribution of safe streets infrastructure, and police brutality.
The solution to unsafe streets will involve bike advocates and also those adept
at fighting gentrification, at curbing the reach of street cameras to surveil
communities of color, and critically important, it will involve community input
from the start.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In
Philadelphia, we have the opportunity to give comments on the Vision Zero
Action Plan. The comment period is open for community members to weigh in on
how to make the streets safer. Take a few minutes to read the plan and take the
survey. How does this plan make streets safer for people of color? Could it put
people of color at greater risk for police interactions of excessive force? How
would you prioritize or implement these ideas? Take the opportunity to share
that safe streets are streets with fair infrastructure and enforcement aimed at
de-escalation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-25306798039778753372017-02-28T13:32:00.000-07:002017-02-28T13:32:59.382-07:00Women Fight for the Right to Bicycle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQdTfgSZYkJ0EExydcTnH6ejOoQzX1VuJrW2yuE4FfHb49qJREKrY2cXJJefM0d9RkXGQ3wU3PhQpiwjOojNevVRZL8eFDjjz-AqKLh0RGuqsWEtArCyTF9EN9deK4uR5jn-EhjC7D8o/s1600/Egypt-girls-cycling-for-equality.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQdTfgSZYkJ0EExydcTnH6ejOoQzX1VuJrW2yuE4FfHb49qJREKrY2cXJJefM0d9RkXGQ3wU3PhQpiwjOojNevVRZL8eFDjjz-AqKLh0RGuqsWEtArCyTF9EN9deK4uR5jn-EhjC7D8o/s320/Egypt-girls-cycling-for-equality.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In most
developed countries, women don’t think twice about riding their bicycle. But in
some areas of the world, cultures have distorted women’s right to travel freely,
especially targeting bicycling. Women who dare to bicycle in such places, are
met at least with harassment and at worst, physical attack. And yet many are
facing these dangers in a courageous fight to tear down these myths and open
the way for all women to ride bicycles without threat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/70-one-street-press">Defying
Poverty with Bicycles</a></i>, I discuss the importance of understanding local
culture and barriers to bicycling before embarking on any bicycle program. In
places where women are banned from bicycling, no bicycle program could
effectively move forward. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you
live in such a place, I hope this latest example of Egyptian women’s courage
against this injustice will help you remove your own culture’s stigma in order
to set the stage for many effective bicycle projects and programs that will
serve all members of your society.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Recent news
articles from around the world highlighted a very successful event organized by
women and girls in Egypt who call themselves There is No Difference. This
excerpt from <a href="https://totalwomenscycling.com/news/egypt-girls-cycle-protest-intolerance-towards-female-cyclists">one
article</a> captures their passion:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
“…Egyptian girls face the same adversity. Harassment in the
streets, threats and abuse are hurled their way as they pedal past. However, a
group of 5 individuals who called themselves: “There is No Difference”, are
looking to change all of that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Since the Egyptian government cut fuel subsidies, the cost
of public transport has soared. This has resulted in more women cycling as a
means of transportation. However, the barriers they face in the street are
enough to scare off women from riding bikes, leaving them with little option
for travelling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
There is No Difference hosted their first mass bike ride
event as part of their new campaign. Supported by men, women and children,
hundreds of cyclists rode through the streets of Port Said in Northern Egypt…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://totalwomenscycling.com/news/egypt-girls-cycle-protest-intolerance-towards-female-cyclists">Read
more in the article</a> including some links to similar efforts in other
countries. At <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/">One Street</a> we applaud all
these efforts to bring equality to all the world’s citizens through the only
machine that can, the bicycle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Have you had experience fighting similar injustices against any sort of person bicycling? If so, please offer ideas in the comments section.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sue</span>Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-64986028296058355282017-01-16T14:34:00.000-07:002017-01-17T09:57:02.893-07:00What If Civil Rights Included Bicycles?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOxq1HiKTUYn1VUz-QphNXxy4hZ7kCA3csKE09EsVR6SltVZhwO9gh1DUt9Z0Zzqt433WUa5Bcj4jd7hBeyE-23g9KT_zcXIEjbV_60as4NFtzst9N8JTWPIEbXLYT4Vov6AEXILG0Kw/s1600/Montgomery-bus-boycotters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOxq1HiKTUYn1VUz-QphNXxy4hZ7kCA3csKE09EsVR6SltVZhwO9gh1DUt9Z0Zzqt433WUa5Bcj4jd7hBeyE-23g9KT_zcXIEjbV_60as4NFtzst9N8JTWPIEbXLYT4Vov6AEXILG0Kw/s320/Montgomery-bus-boycotters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today
is Martin Luther King Day, my favorite holiday because it celebrates opposition
to hatred and injustice. One great example is the Montgomery, Alabama bus
strike, launched in December of 1955 by Rosa Parks’ brave determination to stay
seated on a bus, which set black workers walking and carpooling for 381 days
until all Montgomery buses were desegregated. Of all the writings about the bus
strike and the hard walking workers endured, there is one single-sentence quote
that captures it best for me. Martin Luther King, Jr. told the story to the <i>New York Times</i> in 1961:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
On a chill morning in the autumn of 1956, an elderly,
toilworn Negro woman… began her slow painful four-mile walk to her job… The old
woman’s difficult progress led a passerby to inquire sympathetically if her
feet were tired. Her simple answer…, “Yes, friend, my feet is real tired, but
my soul is rested.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
walking itself, the hard, painful walking, and the complex carpool system they
set up were points of pride. I realize and respect this. But I’ve always
wondered how the movement might have unfolded if they could have used bicycles,
too. Many more black people could have participated and the strain on the carpool
system would have been eased. Perhaps bikes could have enabled even more bus
strikes across the south. And then, imagine how many black workers would have
kept riding, free from bus fares and the limits of their routes and schedules.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unfortunately,
in the 1950s and 60s bicycles were viewed only as toys in the U.S. Bikes were
made to look like rocket ships and motorcycles, equipped with toy guns and
sirens. It’s no wonder our civil rights heroes never even thought of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So where
are we today in comparison? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A
movement has emerged after horrific events with the name Black Lives Matter.
That anyone, individual or group, has to proclaim that their life matters
should appall us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Politicians
promote hatred and fear to gain power. And it works. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
CEOs of our top bike companies here in the U.S. still refer to bicycling only as
a sport, their companies cranking out blingy mountain bikes and road racers
with hardly a wink to basic bikes for getting around. <o:p></o:p><a href="http://www.blogdefyingpovertywithbicycles.org/2015/09/bicycle-industry-stagnation.html" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Read
more in this post</a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
civil rights movement continues, it must; expanded now to oppose fearmongering
toward any group and stomp out propaganda that segregates. Each of us—anyone
who reads blogs like this one, anyone who knows the danger of hatred and
prejudice—must protest every act of prejudice, whether through words spoken,
police brutality, or through improper transportation provisions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And let’s
finally demand that our bike industry and transportation officials ensure that
anyone, no matter how marginalized they may be by our current backslide toward
prejudice, can choose the freedom of bicycling for their means of
transportation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-45770885835234697012016-12-22T11:55:00.000-07:002016-12-22T11:55:44.785-07:00Laws That Criminalize Cycling Reveal Ill Intentions <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsIraaqWi-3eh7eeoLy8GC0oQmbj-6-5WjFUB65YlerzbN41lmjNRKXiqTMVPAbvdP8sbkd8pKEEE5SzA43_1a_cpGk76KFs-JOFxFQ8Ug2TBDghXwVo0LzaJvdQnmuLNitAGlvnnUeE/s1600/police-bicyclists.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsIraaqWi-3eh7eeoLy8GC0oQmbj-6-5WjFUB65YlerzbN41lmjNRKXiqTMVPAbvdP8sbkd8pKEEE5SzA43_1a_cpGk76KFs-JOFxFQ8Ug2TBDghXwVo0LzaJvdQnmuLNitAGlvnnUeE/s320/police-bicyclists.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bicycle
advocates have a difficult job. Winning improvements for cycling is hard enough,
but then every gain they make can become the target of lawmakers who see
cyclists as obstacles to be removed from roadways. Such lawmakers often try to hide
their initiatives under thin veils labeled “safety” as if they are doing
cyclists a favor. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such
false “safety” initiatives are usually packaged in laws that require cyclists
to wear things, which make cycling less convenient and often impossible for impoverished
cyclists without breaking the law. Such laws force impoverished cyclists into
becoming targets for police harassment because they have no other transportation
option. The most common of these sorts of laws are <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/resources-for-increasing-bicycling/136-bicycle-helmets">mandatory
helmet laws</a>. Others include reflective vests or other supposed safety gear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These
sorts of malicious initiatives are so harmful to any bicycle program that I
made sure to include a short section on bicycle advocacy in <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/70-one-street-press">Defying
Poverty with Bicycles</a>.</i> The book focuses on setting up a community
center where people can find bikes and careers. And yet even these program
leaders must be alert for threats like these to ensure they participants can
ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even
though such threats are common, I was stunned earlier this year when I read
about the situation in New South Wales, Australia. Australia is already
crippled by a nationwide mandatory bicycle helmet law, which likely emboldened brazen
lawmakers. They took these deceitful tactics several notches higher with
increased fines and an additional requirement for cyclists to carry ID. <a href="http://www.bikehelmetblog.com/2016/01/aussie-situation-worsens.html">Read
more about it here</a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’m
happy to report that they didn’t get away with it. <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/dec/02/new-south-wales-abandons-plan-cyclists-carry-id">This
recent article gives a nice overview</a> of the successful response from
bicycle advocates. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We can
let out a sigh of relief for everyone in New South Wales who needs to or will
ever want to ride a bicycle. And yet we cannot ignore the fact that bicycle
advocates had to spend more than a year battling this ridiculous threat when
they could have given their energy to <a href="http://www.curesforailingorganizations.org/2016/12/learning-from-kind-communities-bicycles.html">creating
kinder communities</a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We all have
to keep a careful eye out for and then stomp out even the slightest hint of
such threats or we could be faced with an escalation like they saw in New South
Wales.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-43937714419465230942016-11-29T15:21:00.000-07:002016-11-29T15:21:11.401-07:00DIY Bicycle-Powered Machines Gift Ideas<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYeaf6fXJTLamfxU8mKbGf2A81hIQbh51Hwi-6bWL19pBsMK95-UeFC4BH473Qro9PHgHpXpWFN8KbGpLImnckeA3br5mfNe7-d1MzkHIOjW8rLUMOKy35oMYOp4ZJ6hgEgAA-ZLC0iw/s1600/pedal-powered-machines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYeaf6fXJTLamfxU8mKbGf2A81hIQbh51Hwi-6bWL19pBsMK95-UeFC4BH473Qro9PHgHpXpWFN8KbGpLImnckeA3br5mfNe7-d1MzkHIOjW8rLUMOKy35oMYOp4ZJ6hgEgAA-ZLC0iw/s320/pedal-powered-machines.jpg" width="266" /></a>In <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/70-one-street-press">Defying
Poverty with Bicycles</a></i>, I wait until the last chapter to encourage
readers to experiment with machines powered with bicycles. I also include a
warning to ensure that all Social Bike Business tasks are taken care of before
embarking on these projects. Otherwise, the temptation to spend all our time
with these fun projects could be too much.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the
holiday season, with its slowed pace and time to tinker, might be the perfect
time to buck that warning and give it a try. There are several groups of
pedal-powered machines for you to choose from. Consider what you want to power
first, then decide whether direct rotational power will suffice or whether you
will have to incorporate a generator and batteries for long-term power.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s
an excerpt from Chapter 12 to give you some ideas:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
Bike machines are
another fanciful addition to your manufacturing lineup. Bicycles can power
knife sharpeners, corn grinders, electrical generators, battery chargers,
washing machines, water pumps and water filters. The opportunities are endless.
Each could become a mobile business for your training graduates or remain at
your center for its use or to rent for specific amounts of time. Search the
internet for “bicycle powered” and you’ll find ideas you never could have
imagined. Some operate as bicycles to carry their owners to a place where they
can set up shop. Then, with just a few turns of a wrench, the pedals become the
power that turns the knife sharpening wheel, grinder, battery charger or other
contraption. Before moving into producing many of the same type of machine, ask
whether that particular bicycle powered machine is the most needed and in
demand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
For instance, a
remote rural area might benefit enormously from rentable bicycle powered corn
grinders. If your center is in a remote area that has sketchy electrical
service, your program itself might benefit from setting up several bicycle
powered electrical generators that could provide direct power or charge car
batteries for longer term use. Your volunteers and even kids in the area will
enjoy pedaling a few rounds to build up the juice. Bicycle powered water pumps
and filters could also directly benefit your center if your water supply is
distant and not trustworthy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
If you and your
team want to go into production of bicycle machines to sell, you’ll need to
narrow your choices or end up wasting an enormous amount of time producing a
machine that no one will be interested in. Make sure the machines you produce
offer a significant benefit to many people in your area and will be in high
demand. Otherwise, keep your bicycle machine creations in the realm of off-duty
time for your welders who want to play around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
holiday season could give you and your team the chance to play around with
ideas. Even if you don’t hit on a great machine to reproduce at your social
bike center, you could come up with some wild gifts for the quirkiest people
on your list.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And don’t
forget those movers and shakers on your list who’d love to learn how to help
people with bicycles. A copy of <i><a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/70-one-street-press">Defying
Poverty with Bicycles</a></i> might be all they need to charge ahead.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-43636474950712563752016-09-26T16:47:00.000-07:002016-09-26T16:47:50.034-07:00Reading, PA is Defying Poverty with Bicycles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03iwXdYybpdb66VcninlQ8WKtrufouu8GGmwEpFVS4fNEEpgE4Fo1NecuzRwyvVChGIx4BwnN449BAFobF5puF7pxE2fO7DR6iUc-0PV2eleLfCNYEHhhDb16VBBfvmnb28IfhBo3Qvo/s1600/Reading-Bike-Hub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03iwXdYybpdb66VcninlQ8WKtrufouu8GGmwEpFVS4fNEEpgE4Fo1NecuzRwyvVChGIx4BwnN449BAFobF5puF7pxE2fO7DR6iUc-0PV2eleLfCNYEHhhDb16VBBfvmnb28IfhBo3Qvo/s320/Reading-Bike-Hub.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Reading,
Pennsylvania has become a new model for <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/bicycle-programs/56-resources/others/69-social-bike-business-program-">Social
Bike Business</a> because the entire city, from government officials to
citizens, support and are proud of their social bike shop. That bike shop has
also led to a bike-share program, a downtown DIY repair station, and bike racks
on busses. New bicycle facilities on the streets are in the works. Read about
this incredible story <a href="http://www.npr.org/2016/09/11/492230194/some-towns-treat-bikes-as-trendy-but-in-reading-pa-theyre-tools?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=npr&utm_term=nprnews&utm_content=20160911">in
this recent NPR article</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This didn’t
happen overnight. Reading had to hit some terrible times first, including high
unemployment and too many residents below the poverty level. But those bad
stats set the stage for what has become a vibrant structure that now cranks out
programs, run by locals, that are changing the city into a healthy, safe, and
happy place for everyone who lives there. And they started with bikes!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In 2013,
Reading’s mayor called a summit of officials and community stakeholders to take
an honest look at their deteriorating economic situation. They saw the creation
of a nonprofit community development corporation (CDC) as key to the solution
and guided its founding. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That
CDC, called <a href="http://www.redesignreading.org/">ReDesign Reading</a>, is
now the powerhouse behind programs that engage citizens in recreating their
city – from murals to community gardens and markets to bikes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you
lead a bike program in your city that seems too detached from your city
government? Check out ReDesign Reading then show your city officials. They’ll
have a hard time snubbing such a fantastic model that sets citizens out as the
experts and the very heart of solving a city’s problems. And they’re doing it
with bikes!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-59128243687952451212016-08-01T14:48:00.000-07:002016-08-01T14:48:29.532-07:00Homeless Bikes for Homeless People<div class="MsoNormal">
One of
my pet peeves about bicycle programs for impoverished peopled is the tendency
for these programs to ship abandoned bikes away to countries perceived to be “poor.”
Usually Africa is the recipient.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpLDCX9lfmDJKqX75IYqY0AOOjdKwF4urnQRCcuUK5VjZTknoGOZ9R_Jj9FqF3p4mv9mmyXHG1ftcD4L9heUYRcEPlukorYcTShyvS1Tgw6sAEv_Y7YZNe6vqpvJlv85jJIbDgfLbTq0/s1600/Witchita-homeless-bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpLDCX9lfmDJKqX75IYqY0AOOjdKwF4urnQRCcuUK5VjZTknoGOZ9R_Jj9FqF3p4mv9mmyXHG1ftcD4L9heUYRcEPlukorYcTShyvS1Tgw6sAEv_Y7YZNe6vqpvJlv85jJIbDgfLbTq0/s320/Witchita-homeless-bikes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not
only do the messages of these programs offend Africans and people in other
developing countries, for goodness sake, they’re shipping great bikes away from
people who could use them in their own countries! This is one important reason
why One Street is so focused on our <a href="http://www.onestreet.org/component/content/article/56-resources/others/69-social-bike-business-program-">Social
Bike Business program</a> – to keep bikes and bike careers in their
communities.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve
had some rather bizarre discussions about this with bike advocates and program
leaders in various countries who support these overseas shipment programs and
have found to my amazement a common denial that their country has any
impoverished or struggling people. When I’ve pushed this point, sometimes they
will admit there are some, but then continue to argue for shipping their bikes
away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These
discussions uncover a disturbing blindness when it comes to recognizing poverty
in our own communities. Here is <a href="https://techcrunch.com/2014/12/18/ending-the-invisibility-of-homelessness/">one
article about some people trying to reveal the invisibility of homelessness</a>.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I realize
that some of these bikes do fill important, temporary gaps in some countries. But
in general they are preventing better long-term solutions such as local bike
manufacturing and businesses that could supply affordable bikes and at the same
time create bike careers for local people. Thus, they remove an opportunity
from one community and hamper opportunities in the receiving community.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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So I
was very happy to find <a href="http://www.kansas.com/news/politics-government/article90504592.html?utm_source=2016-07-21+Bicycling+and+Walking&utm_campaign=Wichita+Bicycling+and+Walking&utm_medium=email">this
article from Wichita, Kansas, of all places. Their program to match abandoned
bikes with currently homeless people</a> in their city seems like a great
model. I plan to point to this example the next time I engage in a heated
discussion about shipping bikes away from people who could use them, right
where they already are.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you
know of other nice examples that are keeping abandoned bikes in their
communities? Please offer them in the comments section.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sue<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-79940114321582132492016-07-05T19:25:00.000-07:002016-07-05T19:25:52.512-07:00It’s Time for Universal Transportation in the U.S.<div class="MsoNormal">
Here in
the U.S. there’s been a lot of chatter over the past decade about the declining
gas tax revenue and finding alternatives. Now that chatter is getting rather
shrill, touting alternatives limited by cultural quirks like an inherent terror
of raising general taxes, an adoration of anything techno-complex, and a belief
that each travel mode is used by an entirely different species from the others.
Drivers never walk. Bicyclists never drive. And who are those bizarre bus
riders anyway? These sci-fi assumptions force discussions of gas tax
alternatives into far flung realms focused entirely on car drivers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_7yC1Zc7iCAcGco4eOyhg4zhHMHC0Y8PbSUsfx0ClcjtXQiKIX136Amug6iCBttx_SfthsRhjHNQah9XhpoxGOsiWdqv3FUQj4OlqlbgWtT_TWL6_T4wnO_7WjP2iEthstLsPBcjlDc/s1600/bike-in-traffic-trimmed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_7yC1Zc7iCAcGco4eOyhg4zhHMHC0Y8PbSUsfx0ClcjtXQiKIX136Amug6iCBttx_SfthsRhjHNQah9XhpoxGOsiWdqv3FUQj4OlqlbgWtT_TWL6_T4wnO_7WjP2iEthstLsPBcjlDc/s320/bike-in-traffic-trimmed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No need
to recognize that taxing only drivers was wrong from the start and led to all
other modes being shortchanged. Each alternative requires years of meetings,
legions of consultants, and a battery of harassing surveys to even explain the
concept let alone how each would actually work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/trafficandcommuting/east-coast-states-want-to-tax-drivers-travel-not-their-gas/2016/06/25/9d4d1488-395c-11e6-8f7c-d4c723a2becb_story.html?mc_cid=e4aabfbc54&mc_eid=cf2780db8e&wpisrc=nl_p1wemost-partner-1&wpmm=1">Here’s
an article about one recent proposal—taxing car drivers per mile they drive</a>.
Any school kid could come up with the obvious problem with that one. And sure
enough, as you’ll read in the article, decades of surveys have shown that few
people like the idea of big brother tracking them. Duh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What infuriates
me is that nobody, at least here in the U.S., seems to realize that everyone
should have the right to use every mode of transport. This strikes the same fury
each time I fail to avoid a “debate” over universal health care for our
country. Why are we still discussing this? The United States is the only
developed country without universal health care. Many undeveloped countries
provide it, too. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Basic
rights. The basic right to health care. The basic right to move around as we
choose. These rights should not be questioned or debated or skirted with
preposterous techno wizardry alternatives that focus on one travel mode and only
deflect the obvious solutions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To me,
the obvious solution for replacing the archaic gas tax is to raise general
taxes for everyone and require that tax money to provide universal
transportation choices for everyone. We’d pay no more, and likely less, than
what we’d pay through that big-brother driving fee because all those
administrative and consultant costs would vanish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This
would mean that every transportation dollar spent would have to ensure that all
modes are provided for—drivers, bicyclists, wheelchair users, other
pedestrians, even delivery trucks. Lots of compromising would have to occur.
For instance, trucks would no longer be able to enter busy downtowns, but <a href="http://www.cyclelogistics.eu/index.php?id=4">these fabulous cargo bikes
would take their place</a>. Car speeds would have to be reduced, but better
intersection designs that accommodate non-motorized travelers would actually
allow for better traffic flow and shorter travel times even for cars. Public
transit such as busses and trains would move from the fringe to central in
every transportation system. And all travelers, no matter their income level, would have equal provisions for the mode of travel they choose.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s
just one site <a href="http://www.pps.org/reference/rightsizing/">showing
street transformations that accommodate all users now</a>. Imagine how many
more streets could be changed (or built from the start) like those if all
transportation funds had to be spent this way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So let’s
stop bickering about the latest techno-wiz-bang gadget for spying on car
mileage and refocus all those ill-spent survey dollars on an across-the-board
tax increase that pays for universal transportation for everyone. Then we can
honestly call our country the “land of the free” – free to choose how we travel
without big brother watching.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What are your thoughts on this universal transportation idea? Please offer them in the
comments section.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Simsun \(Founder Extended\)"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sue</span></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049007913732421955.post-54799388888727948052016-05-10T15:18:00.001-07:002016-05-10T15:18:43.177-07:00Philadelphia Youth Learn Leadership through Bicycles<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is
a special guest post from Taylor Kuyk-White, Youth Bike Education and
Empowerment Program Coordinator at <a href="http://www.neighborhoodbikeworks.org/">Neighborhood Bike Works</a> in
Philadelphia:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbVT7tm4R2IBDZmo31mZLt-VzzZP9Qb4-r9e41xlZDYmn0cws3MkuQZ3oBvKnTwazRSpH5Z5Wy3mc63X9NmuMT_yIIdGCBCKwbIBRHdV3z24xNe8nmrDhFak13Oo0qfkOwoVTvSlzm-g/s1600/Neighborhood-Bike-Works.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbVT7tm4R2IBDZmo31mZLt-VzzZP9Qb4-r9e41xlZDYmn0cws3MkuQZ3oBvKnTwazRSpH5Z5Wy3mc63X9NmuMT_yIIdGCBCKwbIBRHdV3z24xNe8nmrDhFak13Oo0qfkOwoVTvSlzm-g/s320/Neighborhood-Bike-Works.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Philadelphia
is a city that loves bicycles--to commute, to exercise, to recreate, to
socialize--the list is about as diverse as the population that uses them. Among
the myriad bike shops in the city, <a href="http://www.neighborhoodbikeworks.org/">Neighborhood Bike Works</a> is a
favorite of Philadelphia's youth. That's because Neighborhood Bike Works is no
ordinary bike shop. Neighborhood Bike Works (NBW) is a place where youth become
self-sufficient mechanics, traffic savvy riders, and young leaders. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A nonprofit
community organization, NBW uses bikes as the hook to engage young people in
building skills and developing healthy habits that support them in and outside
of their passion for all things two wheels. We do this work with young people
in a multi-tiered layer of programs we call our Youth Bike Education and
Empowerment Program. Youth ages 8-18 can join any one of our entry level
programs (Earn A Bike, Ride Club, and more) to than have access to many
graduate and advanced level programs that revolve around activities like
racing, kinetic sculpture building, weekend open wrenching, and many, many
more. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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One of
these advanced tier programs is our Leadership and Advance Mechanics Course. In
this class, youth ages 14-18 crystallize professional mechanic skills, practice
public speaking, build networks with bicycle industry professionals, learn
valuable teaching methods, and get some real life job interview experience all
over the course of eight weeks. During the 2016 graduation of this course that
took place in early March, youth reflected on how many job opportunities had
opened to them in the bicycle world that they never would have dreamed existed.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nasir
shared, "When I came to Neighborhood Bike Works I wanted to train to
become a bicycle mechanic. I thought that was all you could do as a job with
bikes. Now I realize there is a lot more out there—engineers, city planners,
bicycle coaches—and I know the people in those fields that could help me build
a career in that direction."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beyond
networking and professional development, one of our keystone programs was one
dreamt up and implemented by the youth of NBW themselves: the Youth Council.
This core group of young leaders prides themselves as the youth voice of the
organization, collaborating with the wider graduate network to ensure that
NBW's values, goals, and decisions are consistently aligned with those of the
NBW youth body. The inspiration for the council was gained by four NBW teens in
2014 when they attended the annual Youth Bike Summit (YBS) in NYC.
Unsurprisingly, participating in the YBS has become an important annual
tradition for this group. This year they are gearing up to lead a presentation
at the YBS walking their audience through their process for setting up a
successful youth council! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the
Youth Council Advisor, I have often found myself pulling upon the insights I
gained from my work with One Street in 2010 and 2011. In both years I had the
privilege to attend an international advocacy conference called Velo-city. The
value and pure magic of participating in those summits lends great motivation
to my work with the youth council as they prepare themselves for the Youth Bike
Summit year after year. Further to the benefit of supporting the Youth Council,
I was able to attend the Velo-city conferences only through my efforts on two
years of creative fundraising and sponsorship drives. As you might imagine,
these youth now have also gained important skills as fundraisers and event
coordinators in service of their own goals!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the
end, NBW is not about one-way teaching of youth. Instead, we guide these
incredible young people into the skills they need to become teachers and
leaders no matter where they go from here. Neighborhood Bike Works aims to
outgrow the all too common youth service model and step into a generation of
Youth Led work. The outstanding members of our Youth Council are helping us
take one more step in this direction!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Sue Knauphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149859995220789372noreply@blogger.com0