Naked Streets — Interruption #19

What happens when we design spaces for human connection?

Whenever I visit other parts of the country, which I often do for work, I’m struck by the ugliness and sameness of our built environments. I know that the United States is filled with beautiful natural landscapes, along with some noteworthy neighborhoods and buildings, but you have to be intentional about seeking them out.

If you’re not, you’re going to find a whole lot of concrete and fast-moving cars. Neon signs and big box stores. Houses clustered together along freeways. Treeless streets. Crumbling urban centers.

Turns out, when you design spaces for profit and efficiency, they are not very nice to look at or spend time in. They spark no joy.

The bleak landscapes I see from windows of Ubers to and from various airports stand in stark contrast to the street I walk every morning. It has recently been designated a “Safe Route” by the Portland Department of Transportation, and at around 7:45 a.m. it is filled with kids and parents walking or biking to school. There is also a smattering of dog walkers and other bike commuters, and the occasional rogue car.

As my son and I round the corner onto this street, we wave to our neighbor who is sipping coffee by her front window. Then we pass the man with the two golden retrievers, pausing to give each of them a pat on the head. We wend our way around parked cars because the street lacks consistent sidewalks. After four blocks, at NE 76th Ave, we meet my son’s classmate and his dad, who greets us every morning in his bathrobe and trademark skull pajama pants. At this point, I give my son a side-hug, which is the only kind of hug I can get from him these days, and he and his classmate continue on to school.