Sidewalks = Freedom

In defense of independent kids

There are lots of things that communities fight over. New developments, new laws, changes to governmental structures, taxes, taxes, taxes.

But when Mark and I were on a long bike ride the other day, I was struck by the number of signs I saw posted in yards in an eastern suburb urging neighbors to vote no on sidewalks. 

Sidewalks. 

Now that is not the community where I live and I have no idea of the issues surrounding these proposed sidewalks. Would the sidewalks take portions of people’s front yards away? Is the city going to develop over natural wild spaces? Would the sidewalks increase taxes? This piece is not about that particular community’s fight over sidewalks, so please don’t start arguing for or against it (at least, not here). This piece is about sidewalks.

For me, sidewalks are a must have, one of the first things I look for in a community. They’re good for dog walkers and exercisers and they are especially good if you’re looking for an area where you might raise a family. Sidewalks help create independent children who become independent young people who eventually become independent adults. Sidewalks give kids the opportunity from a very young age to get where they need or want to go on their own, without an adult tagging along and making decisions for them. Sidewalks allow them the chance to navigate their environment, figure out how to stay safe, learn who to turn to for help if needed, how to trust their neighbors and their neighborhood. It’s like a practice run, a microcosm of navigating the bigger and perhaps scarier world.

When I was young, my mom’s rule was that as soon as my brothers and I had finished Safety Town, we were allowed to cross the street on our own. Not big main streets with traffic lights and cars whizzing by, but our neighborhood blocks, 25 mile-per-hour zones, the routes we walked to school or to a friend’s house. 

Safety Town, which my siblings and I did and which my kids and their peers did the summer before entering kindergarten, was a one-week day camp run by the city where children learned about safety. How to cross streets, the meaning of various road signs, where to turn for help when needed, stranger danger, the whole bit. The highlight of Safety Town was the last day when the parking lot or large interior of the community center was turned into a little town. There were buildings and houses and street signs, stop lights and pretend police officers. And all the little kids would ride around on their play vehicles, obeying safety laws. 

Then the counselors would hand out certificates and, voila, freedom.

Some years ago, a woman who had been my boys’ primary babysitter when they were little reached out to say that she had always admired how independent they were and wondered if I had any advice now that she was raising her own children. And I said, “Live somewhere with sidewalks.” 

Let them out of your sight. Let them ride their bike around the block by themselves. Let them walk to their neighborhood school. When they’re a little older, let them go to the store with a friend. Let them fall and scrape their knee or get caught in a rain storm along the way and realize they’ll survive. 

I’m not saying to just shoo your little ones out the door with no preparation. There are plenty of ways to ease into it. On our daily walks to elementary school before my boys went by themselves, I used to let them lead. “Tell me when it’s safe to cross the street.” “What should you do now?” “Which way?” so that they were the deciders while I still had the power to veto. 

We would do the same thing in airports as they got older or on public transportation in cities we visited. They would have to find our gate on the screen and figure out how to get there, which elevators, which hallways, which trams to take to which terminals. I could still interject or correct them as needed (I was not about to be missing any flights because my 9-year-old led us to the wrong gate!) but this prepared them for flying on their own.

We’re lucky where we live because not only do we have sidewalks connecting absolutely everything to absolutely everywhere, but we also have wide treelawns protecting pedestrians from traffic. I know, the word “treelawn” is a midwestern thing or maybe an Ohio thing or maybe even a Cleveland thing. In fact, my computer is not recognizing “treelawn” as a word, silly computer!

Treelawns, my far-flung friends, are the stretch of grass between your sidewalk and the street, where (duh) the trees are planted. They’re also where you place your trash on trash day and where you pile your leaves in the fall or where you put out that old piece of furniture or too small bicycle for someone to drive by and pick up. You probably have them or know of them, even if you don’t use that perfectly apt word.

Treelawns are great because, well, they’re pretty (Cleveland Heights’ motto is the City of Trees) but also because they provide a buffer between the road and the sidewalk, keeping everyone safe (and usually dry when cars drive through large puddles). You don’t have to worry that a young child will veer into the road while they’re learning to ride their bike or if they’re goofing off and playing with friends on the walk home.

I will always vote for independent kids, kids taking risks, making mistakes, getting lost. And figuring it out on their own. I vote for sidewalks.