Enrique Peñalosa, the former mayor of Bogota, Columbia, has described children as “a kind of indicator species” for building good cities. “If we can build a successful city for children,” he says, “we will have a successful city for all people.” The Instagram post by Strong Towns illustrates this concept well:
Thinking about good city-building in these terms sheds light on why many Americans today trust each other, and the institutions they count on, less. Many parents do not feel safe letting their children play around the corner from their home or walk to the park with their friends. When the neighborhood feels unsafe for children, it feels unsafe, period.
The news, with its necessary obsession with crime, plays a role in parents' feelings of uneasiness. But if parents could look out the window and see a street designed for their children—clearly defined crosswalks that deter cars from slipping the corners at high speeds, buffered bike lanes, doorsteps, and porches that hover close to the sidewalk and keep watch over the street—the rhetoric of the news would lose its grip.
Because to put it darkly, our streets are not designed for safety. Even if crime is not nearly as prevalent as it feels given the time devoted to it on the news, many streets can look or feel high-risk. The very atmosphere of many neighborhoods in the United States, once one leaves the comfort of their lawn, is hostility.
In the very first chapter of The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs chooses not to focus on the hot topics of affordable housing or urban renewal, but “The Uses of Sidewalks: Safety.” This simple determinant of security has been documented in clear prose for sixty years, yet cities continue to orient themselves in opposition to this advice.
The underlying consequence of building cities in a way that is not hospitable to society’s most vulnerable population is a lack of trust. Trust is the foundation of all institutions and relationships in this country, and when things begin to go awry, a weakening of social trust is sure to be felt.
When our roads feel dangerous and unpredictable, we constrain our mental boundaries of what feels safe for our children, and likewise, what is safe, generally. And when we limit the scope of what we call safe, we spend less time interacting with our neighbors down the road and listening to folks who differ slightly. Issues well-documented on the radio today around the fate of democracy and the division of parties are rooted in a common resistance to listen to differing viewpoints and make an effort to understand—agreement not necessary—our neighbors.
Trust is something that must be consciously maintained, hence the English tendency to discuss it in terms of “building trust.” This tendency serves a literal meaning in addition to its figurative one. Trust is ingrained in the way our cities are built.
For parents to trust their children will be safe riding their bikes down the street, that road must be built to accommodate children riding their bikes down it. Homes should be situated such that neighbors pass each other on their way to and from work, and shops should abut the sidewalk to provide the securing watch of storekeepers and customers on the goings on outside.
The latter ideas rely on more fundamental changes to the way our cities are designed and laid out. But street-level changes may be in reach on any street. More and more local organizations are leading street pop-ups, using paint and the occasional planter to enhance curb extensions and brighten crosswalks. Not only do these streets encourage slower driving, but they also look like streets made for children. With bright colors and fun designs, popups like these can make a street that once felt unsafe for children more inviting.
Trust is a desirable good. Going forward, the way we consciously design our cities will build or break it. Trust is also a tool. In decisions both big and small, building to promote trust will have ripple effects. Neighbors who feel safe congregating in the street, at the park, and on the sidewalk will build relationships. Neighbors who know each other can count on each other for help and will look out for their neighbors in turn. So when the paint on the corner starts to wear off, neighbors will maintain it, and continue to brainstorm other ways to improve their community. Neighborhoods built to promote trust will breed more trust. In turn, neighbors will use their mutual trust to build better places.
Adeleine Geitner is a rising senior at Duke University studying public policy and economics. She is the Duke Urban Studies Initiative Fellow on Sprawl Repair and Nodal Development.