Tuesday, July 15, 2014

How Low-Income Commuters View Cycling

This article in today’s CityLab issue covers some very interesting topics. I found even more good points in the comments section including several that emphasized access to affordable, durable bikes as an important
part of the solution.

I bristled a bit while reading the article because it focuses on a survey taken in areas of DC where a majority of residents happen to be African American. The authors use generalities like “Our study showed that African Americans were statistically more likely...” Statements like this are easily taken out of context and promote improper perceptions. Even some of the comments make the assumption that the topic is about “people of color” rather than people living in or near poverty.

Poverty is not based on ethnicity or skin color even if racism sometimes contributes to poverty. We must be vigilant about keeping these descriptions distinct lest we contribute to racism.

Even so, the article and the survey it covers raise some important issues. If we can get past the unintentional inequality of the writing, it does offer some thought provoking material. 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Blog discovery: Invisible Cyclist

I just received a forwarded blog post from a colleague that caused a rescheduling of my morning tasks as I eagerly read through their past posts. The blog is called "Invisible Cyclist," which immediately caught my attention because of my adoration of the article of a similar name, which I highlighted back in May with my post "'Invisible Riders,' a Timeless Article."

I was surprised that I'd never heard of the Invisible Cyclist blog, as it seems to align very nicely with One Street's work for equitable street design as well as the topic of this blog. But scrolling through their previous posts I could see why it had stayed a bit invisible itself--only one post per year in 2012 and 2013. Now I see four posts in the past month. Looks like they might be kicking in!

The blog is indeed inspired by that wonderful article. They focus on street design so far, so not a lot about providing bikes yet. Still, take a look and enjoy their thought process as they and their readers grapple with the many barriers to bicycling for marginalized people.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Appropriate Bicycles

In Defying Poverty with Bicycles I explain why bikes designed for sport and fitted with complex parts are not appropriate for bicycle programs meant to help people who are struggling in poverty.

Sport bikes are fragile, using materials like carbon fiber and lightweight metals that crumble under hard daily use. Their geometry and short wheelbases are designed for quick maneuvers, not transport and certainly not carrying loads. Any shocks, fancy brakes, and other racing gadgets break under hard use leaving such bikes useless.

Steel framed bikes with long wheelbases, durable and replaceable parts, racks and fenders are the basic idea of appropriate bikes for people who depend on them for their daily needs. As an example, here’s a photo of a wonderful Czechoslovakian-made bike I rode around Europe last summer:


 What are your thoughts about appropriate bicycles? Do you know of affordable cargo bikes? Have you had good luck retrofitting sport bikes to become transportation bikes? Please offer your experiences and ideas in the comments box.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Bike Charity Pitfalls

My post in May titled “Are Bike Kitchens Elitist by Choice?” got several comments including a concern about privileged people providing bikes to people they see as different from themselves. This concern was not part of my original post, but it is a major hot button for me. So I was glad to see this reader make the leap, which has inspired this post.
 
Do an internet search for bike charities and you will find pages of links to programs that claim to provide bicycles to people who otherwise could never buy their own bike. I grimace just at the list! Many send used bikes into developing countries to be given away free. Others invite “the needy” to come to their door and ask for a bicycle handout.

First I have to say that charity is a good thing. No matter how much I criticize charity-based programs, the human tendency toward helping others is something we all must be proud of. There are times when any of us can fall into so much trouble that the only way out is to accept a helping hand.

Problems arise when this kindness morphs into believing we are better than those we serve. Once this separation occurs in a bicycle program, its leaders will make small, but important decisions that begin to do harm rather than good.

Developing countries see the worst of this harm as massive nonprofits fight each other for charity funding that often ends up in the hands of warlords and corrupt dealers. These organizations are so caught in meeting promised goals, they miss the bigger picture—the local businesses that shut down when charity goods flood the market, the disgrace they pile onto communities and whole countries by publishing only photos of people suffering, and the ravenous consumption of funding just to continue the charade.

I recommend two books that do a good job of revealing this horrendous state of charity. One is Dead Aid by Dambisa Moyo, an economist from Zambia. The other is The Crisis Caravan by Linda Polman, a journalist from the Netherlands who lays out countless abominations caused by charity nonprofits.

It would be easy to look at these offenses as detached from bike charity programs. But we can’t ignore the flooding of free bicycles into developing countries. We also cannot ignore the undertone of disgrace when those who receive a free bike are treated as incapable of purchasing a bicycle like anyone else.

I understand that many of the people who are in need of a bicycle are in terrible situations and may be seeking a helping hand. These charity offenses would not be occurring if this were not the case. The challenge comes in seeing each of these people as our equal, looking them in the eye and asking how they would like to take part in the program. Make them feel welcome and valued. Show them that their expertise in surviving their hardships can help the program better serve their neighbors.

When addressed with respect like this, many people who come for a free bike will still simply take the bike and leave. Living in poverty is relentless stress that leaves little time to get involved in a bike program. But by respecting and valuing everyone who comes to the program, you will find that some will take you up on your offer. Even those who walk or ride away will benefit from being treated with respect and some will return to take part when their schedules allow.

If you have a bike charity or are giving away bikes through your program, at least look at making this change. Invite everyone who comes in for a bike to take part in your program, even in the smallest way, perhaps just through offering ideas.

Better yet, stop giving bikes away! Put a proper price on every bike and part you provide. Make that price similar to bike shops in your area and ensure that each sale will not only cover your cost of that bike or part, but the overhead it took to sell it. Ask for donations and grants to help subsidize purchases by people who can prove to you that they truly cannot pay full price.

By putting price tags on your bikes and parts, not only are you showing their true value, you will be showing respect to everyone who comes to your program. They are simply fellow humans looking for a bike. Your equal. Your subsidy program can help them make the purchase, but in the end they will be buying a bike just like anyone else. Our book, Defying Poverty with Bicycles, covers the details for setting up a successful subsidy program.


I realize this is a controversial topic, especially for anyone who has spent a lot of time and energy giving away bikes. I’d love to hear your thoughts and criticisms. I’d also love to see comments from anyone who has made a smooth transition from a bike charity to a more egalitarian program that engages even the most impoverished people. Even more exciting would be to hear from bike programs that have engaged bike recipients in leadership positions for their program.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Prescribing Bicycles for Poor People

I came across this recent article from the Atlantic that starts off with a model program prescribing a bike share membership to poor patients in bad health. It was an easy leap for me to imagine a social bike business taking the place of the bike share membership 
 
The article is also packed with interesting statistics about many of the factors that contribute to the entrapment of poverty. While I am always skeptical of studies done by affluent academics about people they have little contact with, their findings are worth pondering.


Give it a read and don't miss the comments at the bottom—some revealing banter that demonstrates the wide range of perceptions of poverty.

Friday, May 30, 2014

Are Bike Kitchens Elitist by Choice?

Ever since we launched the Social Bike Business program I’ve been attracted to bike kitchens. It’s hard to imagine a better sort of place than these comfortable spaces where young people gather around the shared goal of repairing bicycles. But something always bothers me whenever I visit one.

For those not familiar with bike kitchens, the concept started in Los Angeles in the early 2000s when an eco-village turned an old kitchen into a shared bike repair area. This repair space was stocked with collectively owned tools and managed by volunteers who offered hands-off suggestions on repairs so that visitors would learn bike repair themselves. Word spread quickly about this cool concept and now, just over a decade later, you’d be hard pressed to find a large city in either the U.S. or Europe without something called a “bike kitchen.” Bike co-ops and collectives often follow a bike kitchen model.

I believe that most bike kitchens share many of the goals of Social Bike Business; that serving the bicycle needs of disadvantage people was once a top goal for them. My question in the title of this post comes from personal experience and my curiosity as to whether the shift I have noticed is intentional.

When I travel, I always buy a used bike to ride during my stay. If the bike I buy needs a specialty bike tool and there is a bike kitchen in that city, I go there first, usually to find it closed or that day set aside for particular sorts of people I wouldn’t describe myself as.

Even though bike kitchens haven’t been available when I’ve needed them, I often like to drop by before I leave their city to see what they do, hang out with fun bike folks, and even help out if they need me. I’ve enjoyed many a fun evening at bike kitchens.

What bothers me is that I rarely see impoverished people at bike kitchens. I also don’t see middle-aged or elderly people nor do I see people of different cultures or even types of cycling. The vast majority have been young people with plenty of income and time to spare, not the faces of the stress and oppression of poverty.

Something is keeping disadvantaged people away from the bike kitchens I’ve visited. The random hours and designated days for certain types of people would be a bit tough to figure out, but not impossible, especially if you’re desperate to get your bike fixed affordably. It could be the hands off, learn-by-experience principle—poverty is not just a lack of money, it is a lack of time as well. When a low-paying job steals your whole day and all your energy, it’s all you can do to get home and enjoy a few hours with your family before bedtime. You don’t have time to learn bike repair by trial and error.

Bike kitchens are fun. They have helped many a young person become a confident cyclist and often find a career with bicycles. This is very important for the growth of the bike culture in the U.S. and Europe.

Should I even worry that bike kitchens seem to have become elitist? Should they? Perhaps this elitism is deliberate as each group of volunteers realizes their limitations and focuses on helping people like themselves. Focusing limited resources is a good thing. Still, I can’t help wondering whether or not this is what most bike kitchens intend. Please offer your thoughts in the comments section.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

“Invisible Riders,” a Timeless Article

Every so often we are fortunate enough to discover a piece of writing that becomes part of us, that continues to contribute to our view of the world. An article originally published back in 2005 in Bicycling Magazine called “Invisible Riders” is one such gem for me. I still draw inspiration and perspective from it as I work to overcome misconceptions about people who depend on their bike every day.

The article is a surprise, not only because it was the first and last of its kind to be published in a bicycle-enthusiasts’ magazine (that I know of...please send links to others if I’m wrong!), but because the author himself had set out to write a completely different article. His subjects for the article are day laborers in Los Angeles, California. Most are illegal immigrants from Mexico and were a bit nervous about taking part.

Most fascinating to me is not what the bicyclists told the reporter, but how the reporter changed as he wrote the article. Before he started, he envisioned an article about changing some of these riders into bike racers and enthusiasts. What he ended up writing was far more profound to him and his readers. We often do not even see these, the most prevalent sort of bicyclists in our cities, and because of this, transportation policies, bike shops, and even bicycle programs often don’t even consider accommodating their needs.

When I taught a university course on social change through bicycles, I made this article one of the required reading assignments. It always caused lively discussions with my students. Some even referred to it well after the course was over as we discussed their plans with bicycles for the future. It truly is a timeless piece and I’m glad to bring it back through this blog post.

Give the article a read. It’s only five pages long. My guess is that you will be as captivated by the reporter’s personal story as I continue to be.