by Niki Kokkinos
On May 10th, 2016 it seemed as though Vision Zero’s forward momentum had come to a halt. Queens Community Board 4 had voted to approve traffic safety improvements to Queens Boulevard, but the motion to approve the changes had a significant omission – bike lanes. Striking out bike lanes stirred the pot. Just imagine, while the biking network across the city is systematically increasing, a crucial juncture to that network refused to cooperate with the trend. In 2006 New York City’s Department of Transportation (DOT) recorded a total of 29.2 bike lane miles added throughout the entire city; in 2016 over 80.8 lane miles were added in one year alone. There’s been a 49% increase in the number of city residents who reportedly ride a bike several times a month between years 2009 to 2014. The city’s moving towards a non-vehicular direction and we’re attempting to plan our way to it.
Vision Zero was one of the very first initiatives Mayor de Blasio undertook when he assumed office. It instructs the DOT and other related agencies to develop robust programs to address traffic crashes on our streets. The most visible component to the initiative is DOT’s re-engineering of streets for multi-modal use: people, bikes, and cars.
I spoke with two Wagner alumni, Kessia Deleo and Lily Gordon-Koven, who worked extensively on DOT’s Vision Zero priority corridor Queens Boulevard, or what’s been notoriously called “The Boulevard of Death.” Legend has it that the name began circulating in the 1990s due to the abnormal number of fatalities and injuries occurring all along the corridor. Kessia, Lily, and I talked about the conditions that make Queens Blvd stand out.
First, it’s the only street that crosses nearly the entire borough, starting from the Queensboro Bridge in Long Island City and ending past Hillside Avenue in Jamaica. Along its path are several major connections to crucial roadways. But, these bare bone attributes don’t paint a full picture of what Queens Blvd is and means. It’s a focal point, a destination, and a landmark. It’s a thoroughfare home to neighborhood businesses that have withstood the test of time, anchor retail that gives residents a reason to not leave the borough, and high-rise affordable co-op and senior citizen developments that penetrate the skyline. Queens Blvd is the artery that keeps the borough’s blood pumping. And that’s why bringing Queens Blvd under the Vision Zero umbrella was so important.
There’s been major headway in public outreach process since Vision Zero’s start. When Kessia and Lily first began their work with the DOT in 2014 it was more linear. DOT would present its recommendations for a traffic corridor to the local Community Board, the Board would issue its response, and the DOT would revise its recommendations and designs accordingly. Now, the process is much more messy. DOT conducts public workshops in the affected Community Board. Workshop participants are divided into small groups that are led by a DOT facilitator who has a map of the target area. You’re encouraged to point out problem areas on the map and describe what types of traffic calming strategies you think work best; it’s a conversation.
The DOT has also developed the Street Ambassador Program. It’s a visible and mobile street team. They set up informational tables at locations being considered for traffic redesigns and ask people what they would like to see on the street and what their experience has been. The program flips the previous public outreach paradigm on its head. Instead of DOT waiting for the people to come to it, it goes out to the people. Instead of waiting for the approval of one entity, the Community Board, it seeks to build a coalition beforehand. Street visibility is also an opportunity to educate. Maps and visuals with traffic crash data are displayed. Telling a story is part and parcel of the job. This is something that both Lily and Kessia stressed.
Applauding how the public outreach process has evolved is important, but it’s equally important to continue the evolution of how government, and by default planners, communicate with constituencies. Because, at the very crux of it all, we must be humbled by the level of influence planners exert in determining the fate of the urban landscape. One of my foremost objectives when meeting with Kessia and Lily was to gain insight as to what planners could do to create plans which are responsive to a community’s needs and how to best navigate the rough waters of opposition and possible NIMBYism. At a certain point in the conversation we hit a nerve: gentrification. Regrettably, urban improvements, even those which are arguably small-scale, are often times tainted by the legacy previous government administrations have left behind. And, in the case of well-intentioned improvements like bike lanes, they are psychologically associated with painful memories of times when government blatantly ignored the needs of working class neighborhoods and completely disinvested from public works and services. These memories are recent and not farfetched. It was in the 1970s when President Ford (figuratively) told New York City to drop dead when it asked for a federal bail out to remain financially afloat. It’s from that era where a New Yorker’s mind is burned with images of the Bronx burning and flickering lights in a graffiti-covered subway car. Therefore, suspicion is essential within a New Yorker’s DNA and simple amenities, like trees and bike lanes, raise eyebrows. A young man riding his bike through rapidly gentrifying Harlem said “You see, I told you they didn’t plant those trees for us.”
Being aware of these sensitivities is what differentiates a planner. Understanding the complex ecosystem of a neighborhood, the embedded interests, and the historic memories of a place is part of the job description. Furthermore, anticipating disagreement is realistic and not chasing applause is necessary.
So, back to that night when a Community Board voted to recommend traffic safety improvements absent of bike lanes. That vote and what followed oozed with tension. The Board itself was divided. They wanted and agreed that change was necessary, but were undecided on what change should look like. Cyclists made a strong showing. They held signs in support of safety improvements, waved their hands to signal their applause, and turned their backs when the vote was cast. There was clear emotional distress. Some called it a “failure of democracy.” The very next day the de Blasio administration immediately instructed the DOT to continue the next phase of street design improvements and it would include bike lanes. Though the Community Board’s vote is significant, it is still considered advisory and could be overridden.
Maybe the vote doesn’t signal a failure of democracy though. Maybe it’s indicative of how difficult democracy could be and how hard it is to reach a consensus. If we are to continue progressing towards more bottom-up planning it’s important to not expect unanimous agreement from the public and to work more diligently towards listening to and addressing valid concerns.