nym on Nostr: How I became car-free https://toska.bearblog.dev/how-i-became-car-free/ You can't do ...
How I became car-free
https://toska.bearblog.dev/how-i-became-car-free/
You can't do public transportation for the rest of your life, my mom texted me only six months before I cut contact with her.
Mind you, at this point about a year had already passed since I was "surviving" without a car in a new-to-me city with less than ideal public transit. Though functional, it leaves much to be desired and has tested me at times. Yet, I've somehow made it work: I learned to memorize the train schedules so that I wouldn't have to wait 20–30 minutes for the next one, and on an occasional weekend I would even sacrifice a few hours to take a bus out to Costco where I would haul enough groceries in my large Osprey backpack — all for my large family of one. I just didn't want to get a car.
In a weird way, she turned out to be right: Since I fell in love with cycling last year, my bike has become my primary mode of transport.
But I know that that would just be semantics to her. We are extremely different people, and for whatever reason she could not tolerate my car-free lifestyle.
In hindsight, I was quite the unlikely candidate for becoming car-free. As a teenager, I took driver's ed and got my license as soon as possible, just like everyone else in our sprawling Midwestern suburb littered with seemingly endless strip malls. Because my grandma previously worked for Volkswagen, our family enjoyed steep discounts on vehicle leases. So, I had the privilege of driving a VW when I was in high school. Finally, I thought. I no longer had to ask my parents to drop me off to linger around the local mall with my friends.
Back then, my friends and I drove everywhere. After all, we didn't have a choice. Anyway, I was not raised to believe that public transportation would positively affect my life, even if it had been available to me.
One time my parents let me drive over an hour one way to spend the day with a friend I had met on Tumblr. This also happened to be the day I rode public transportation for the first time, as she and I took a bus to spend the day in the downtown area of her city. Of course, I had ridden a school bus countless times in my life. But until then, a public bus or train was an entirely foreign concept to me as an eighteen-year-old.
Then I moved out of state for college. To a large city. Far away from my parents. Almost no one on campus had a car; owning one was more of a hassle than a help, even among graduate students. Suddenly my world flipped upside down: I was walking to places, and I was befriending people who had grown up in very different parts of the country and were entirely used to a Bus or a Train.
Within weeks of moving in, I boarded a train for the first time, accompanied by a boyfriend who grew up near one of the biggest cities in the US. I remember it being so casual for him. Despite the distance of our journey, it didn't even cross his mind to take an Uber to the restaurant we were visiting.
It surprised me how quickly I became accustomed to and fell in love with public transportation. By the end of my four years of college, I had explored almost every nook and cranny of the city with the help of buses, trains, and my own legs. I learned the neighborhoods like the back of my hand.
I also enjoyed people-watching, an experience largely robbed from me when I drove everywhere in high school. I never knew what diversity looked like when I was behind the wheel.
Public transit took me to places in the city I never would have explored otherwise, though not really because they were dangerous. Driving a car in a big city can be nerve-wracking and expensive.
Thanks to public transit, my newfound freedom inspired me to embark on mini photography excursions on the weekends, sometimes with my friends, sometimes by myself. There was always something new to see. It was addicting. I hated imagining not living there anymore, not having another weekend of adventures right in my own backyard. It even compelled me to get a couple of transit-related tattoos.
This also instilled in me a sense of civic pride, something I never experienced even once while growing up. I was proud of all the things to be discovered in that city, all without a car. And this feeling remains to this day: Although my former residence there is now the second smallest fraction of my life, I still consider that city to be my home. I got to know it better than anywhere else, maybe even better than myself.
And then I moved.
Unlike my narcissistic mother, most people are simultaneously shocked and impressed when I tell them that I live in this city without a car.
I don't take their reactions too personally. Given how spread out it is here in addition to the lackluster public transit offerings, it is no wonder that many choose to rely on their metal box to get everywhere. And I'll admit that I can't blame all of them. A former colleague of mine told me how much he would like to take public transit or get a bike to cut down on driving, but it wasn't as feasible for him given where he lived. Others have health-related issues that require a car to play some sort of consistent role in their lives. There are those who are adamant about owning a car or even geeking out over cars, and there are others who, like me, wish things could be different in the US. I'm fortunate enough to be in the position to make some sacrifices.
I have no regrets. I don't love where I currently live, but I am grateful on more days than not that I can still live car-free. I can save more of my graduate student stipend for things more important than gas or car insurance. I love being able to spend more time outside than in a metal box, regardless of (most) weather conditions. I love being able to feel the distance between places.
I can't lie: I always feel some mix of jealousy, nostalgia, and something akin to culture shock whenever I visit a place with better public transit. Especially when I travel abroad.
Of course, it hasn't been all positive. I've had negative experiences on various metro systems, including one where a man followed me on several transfers when barely any other riders were around. But these are just a blip on the radar. Bad things can happen anywhere, especially when cars are involved.
I was spoiled back in college. Those four years made me realize how unhappy I was when I had to drive everywhere. I still drive a car maybe once or twice per year if I need to rent one somewhere, but it is never something I look forward to. The destination has to be really worth it for me to do so.
Anyway, I hope to never have to rely on a car to live ever again. Moving later this year to a city with better public transit and cycling infrastructure is among my biggest priorities, and not just out of spite for what my mom said to me years ago.
originally posted at https://stacker.news/items/868366
https://toska.bearblog.dev/how-i-became-car-free/
You can't do public transportation for the rest of your life, my mom texted me only six months before I cut contact with her.
Mind you, at this point about a year had already passed since I was "surviving" without a car in a new-to-me city with less than ideal public transit. Though functional, it leaves much to be desired and has tested me at times. Yet, I've somehow made it work: I learned to memorize the train schedules so that I wouldn't have to wait 20–30 minutes for the next one, and on an occasional weekend I would even sacrifice a few hours to take a bus out to Costco where I would haul enough groceries in my large Osprey backpack — all for my large family of one. I just didn't want to get a car.
In a weird way, she turned out to be right: Since I fell in love with cycling last year, my bike has become my primary mode of transport.
But I know that that would just be semantics to her. We are extremely different people, and for whatever reason she could not tolerate my car-free lifestyle.
In hindsight, I was quite the unlikely candidate for becoming car-free. As a teenager, I took driver's ed and got my license as soon as possible, just like everyone else in our sprawling Midwestern suburb littered with seemingly endless strip malls. Because my grandma previously worked for Volkswagen, our family enjoyed steep discounts on vehicle leases. So, I had the privilege of driving a VW when I was in high school. Finally, I thought. I no longer had to ask my parents to drop me off to linger around the local mall with my friends.
Back then, my friends and I drove everywhere. After all, we didn't have a choice. Anyway, I was not raised to believe that public transportation would positively affect my life, even if it had been available to me.
One time my parents let me drive over an hour one way to spend the day with a friend I had met on Tumblr. This also happened to be the day I rode public transportation for the first time, as she and I took a bus to spend the day in the downtown area of her city. Of course, I had ridden a school bus countless times in my life. But until then, a public bus or train was an entirely foreign concept to me as an eighteen-year-old.
Then I moved out of state for college. To a large city. Far away from my parents. Almost no one on campus had a car; owning one was more of a hassle than a help, even among graduate students. Suddenly my world flipped upside down: I was walking to places, and I was befriending people who had grown up in very different parts of the country and were entirely used to a Bus or a Train.
Within weeks of moving in, I boarded a train for the first time, accompanied by a boyfriend who grew up near one of the biggest cities in the US. I remember it being so casual for him. Despite the distance of our journey, it didn't even cross his mind to take an Uber to the restaurant we were visiting.
It surprised me how quickly I became accustomed to and fell in love with public transportation. By the end of my four years of college, I had explored almost every nook and cranny of the city with the help of buses, trains, and my own legs. I learned the neighborhoods like the back of my hand.
I also enjoyed people-watching, an experience largely robbed from me when I drove everywhere in high school. I never knew what diversity looked like when I was behind the wheel.
Public transit took me to places in the city I never would have explored otherwise, though not really because they were dangerous. Driving a car in a big city can be nerve-wracking and expensive.
Thanks to public transit, my newfound freedom inspired me to embark on mini photography excursions on the weekends, sometimes with my friends, sometimes by myself. There was always something new to see. It was addicting. I hated imagining not living there anymore, not having another weekend of adventures right in my own backyard. It even compelled me to get a couple of transit-related tattoos.
This also instilled in me a sense of civic pride, something I never experienced even once while growing up. I was proud of all the things to be discovered in that city, all without a car. And this feeling remains to this day: Although my former residence there is now the second smallest fraction of my life, I still consider that city to be my home. I got to know it better than anywhere else, maybe even better than myself.
And then I moved.
Unlike my narcissistic mother, most people are simultaneously shocked and impressed when I tell them that I live in this city without a car.
I don't take their reactions too personally. Given how spread out it is here in addition to the lackluster public transit offerings, it is no wonder that many choose to rely on their metal box to get everywhere. And I'll admit that I can't blame all of them. A former colleague of mine told me how much he would like to take public transit or get a bike to cut down on driving, but it wasn't as feasible for him given where he lived. Others have health-related issues that require a car to play some sort of consistent role in their lives. There are those who are adamant about owning a car or even geeking out over cars, and there are others who, like me, wish things could be different in the US. I'm fortunate enough to be in the position to make some sacrifices.
I have no regrets. I don't love where I currently live, but I am grateful on more days than not that I can still live car-free. I can save more of my graduate student stipend for things more important than gas or car insurance. I love being able to spend more time outside than in a metal box, regardless of (most) weather conditions. I love being able to feel the distance between places.
I can't lie: I always feel some mix of jealousy, nostalgia, and something akin to culture shock whenever I visit a place with better public transit. Especially when I travel abroad.
Of course, it hasn't been all positive. I've had negative experiences on various metro systems, including one where a man followed me on several transfers when barely any other riders were around. But these are just a blip on the radar. Bad things can happen anywhere, especially when cars are involved.
I was spoiled back in college. Those four years made me realize how unhappy I was when I had to drive everywhere. I still drive a car maybe once or twice per year if I need to rent one somewhere, but it is never something I look forward to. The destination has to be really worth it for me to do so.
Anyway, I hope to never have to rely on a car to live ever again. Moving later this year to a city with better public transit and cycling infrastructure is among my biggest priorities, and not just out of spite for what my mom said to me years ago.
originally posted at https://stacker.news/items/868366