We Are Experts in Our Own Reality. We See What’s Happening.
There’s an odd quirk in my neighborhood, where at the end of several blocks, the sidewalk does an unexpected curve, cutting off the grass boulevard and merging with the curb. In the summer, it’s unremarkable. But in the winter, when the city comes to periodically clean the sidewalks, the plough operators, unaware of this quirk, continue the logical and expected path of cleaning…and run their machinery right over several feet of grass, tearing up sod and making a mucky, uneven mess.
This happens pretty much every winter. And I always think to myself, “If the person operating the plough lived here, they would know that the sidewalk curves!”
I thought of this recently as I read the introduction to Dave Meslin’s book Teardown:
Each person’s lived experience provides a unique point of view that has value. As Jason Darrah, Edmonton’s director of public communications, once told me: “People have local knowledge. The drainage experts can’t beat a citizen who says, ‘Every time it rains, it pools right there.’” Whether that knowledge is knowing what it’s like to live on minimum wage, to be racially profiled, or struggle with addiction, these perspectives represent an ocean of wisdom and experience.
I’m constantly reminding myself of this fact. We are experts in our own reality. We see what’s happening.
A Strong Towns membership isn’t just about making a donation. It’s about playing a part in the future of your community. Are you ready to join?
I’m not an arborist, but I care deeply about having a healthy tree canopy. I’m not a social worker, but I care deeply about the wellbeing of the people in my neighborhood and across my city. I’m not a traffic engineer, but I care deeply about road safety.
Does my lack of credentials somehow prevent me from identifying dysfunction? Not in the least.
After all, I can see how the loss of street trees has led to people driving faster, and I can feel how walking under an ever-sparser canopy is hotter and less pleasant. I can see people accessing the Little Free Pantry down the street and read stories about the unprecedented demand at food banks. I see how the stroad that bisects my neighborhood makes everyone miserable, regardless of whether they’re inside or outside a vehicle, and I know from talking to other parents that we’re all nervous about letting our kids cross the street.
So, no: I don’t have a resumé full of degrees or a long and illustrious career in urban planning or public works. But I’ve got something just as valuable: lived experience in what it’s like to exist and move about in this city, as a woman, as a parent, and as a person who walks, bikes, buses, and drives. And just as that perspective allows me to see things that aren’t working at the ground level, it also allows me to envision small steps that could quickly start changing things for the better, from the bottom up.
And even though I’m not an accountant, or an economist, I can do the math on my city’s finances and see that things don’t add up, and never will, unless we’re willing to re-think what investment really means.
There’s something really wrong when year after year, the city “rationalizes” (read: shuts down) amenities and facilities in the inner city, while simultaneously pursuing new mega-recreation complexes along the outer edges.
How is it that there never seems to be enough money to fix potholes and crumbling sidewalks, but there’s always enough to widen roads and lay new ones?
And doesn’t it seem wildly counterproductive to beg people to plant more trees on their properties in one breath, and in the next, support greenfield development that requires clearcutting intact forests?
If, like me, you look around at your city and think, “this is nuts,” please know this: you’re right! The way our cities have developed over the past 80 years doesn’t work.
You’re not missing anything. It doesn’t make sense!
And also know this: it’s hard to be disappointed by something you don’t care about.
Although my city, like cities and towns around North America, has big, systemic problems and has made massive mistakes that will take generations to reverse, everywhere I look, I see signs that people still care.
Signs like the formation of a Strong Towns Local Conversation group. Grassroots groups advocating for safer streets, more housing, better coordination of transportation and land use planning, more bikeability and car co-ops. Those who plant wildflower gardens and host block parties to foster neighbor ties—even in the middle of winter! Small business owners and institutions who choose to set up downtown so that they can be part of the solution.
And every time I load up a new Strong Towns podcast or refresh the articles page, I learn about more folks in all corners of North America—from everyday people to elected officials to civil servants—who care enough to take small steps toward making their places just a little better. Not content to accept the status quo, they’re doing the things that are within their capacity and having a real impact.
They don’t just see what’s happening. They see a better way. And they do the next smallest thing to make it reality. Will you do the same, and join this movement by becoming a Strong Towns member today?
Emma Durand-Wood likes walkable cities, front porches, street trees, bumping into neighbors, riding her bike, downtowns, and any excuse to check out a new coffee shop, bakery, or shop. A Winnipegger by choice, she lives in Elmwood with her husband and three children. You can connect with her on Twitter @emmaewood.