Friday Article: Keeping a Promise (1/20/12)

I got back from the Youth Bike Summit in New York City earlier this week. Besides getting to bike in Manhattan while pretending to be some sort of idealized super hero bike messenger cutting off taxis and taking my life into my hands in un-needed ways, I got to talk to many great folks about what they are doing around the world (there were Canadian and British folks there) to get kids on bikes. In a world that often doesn’t take cyclist seriously, it was validating to be surrounded by wonderful and intelligent people doing the same thing that I do.

But as I like to in these articles, lets get back to common themes. I’ve written before about the idea of the “cyclist” identity versus people that simply ride bikes without taking on a whole cultural meaning to their daily activity. At the conference there were many of us that are dedicated “cyclists” and many advocacy folks hold onto that label as well. I began to wonder if we were excluding voices by being too concerned with “cyclist” identities and not enough with introducing “everyday folks” to bikes. I began to want to change the discussion.

I think the conference was a good inspiration for this. At the opening speech a 15 year old immigrant who has been living in New York for only 2 years spoke about his advocacy efforts along side of a congressional representative. The folks at Recycle-a-Bicycle were doing what they say they do and put youth at the front of the conference. We weren’t there to talk ABOUT youth, we were there to talk WITH and LISTEN to youth. So in the “cycling movement” are we here to TALK about people riding bikes or are we here to talk WITH and LISTEN to folks riding bikes? I don’t want to be a white washing “cyclist” making factory. I want to be a place for people to come together around bicycles. Some of us will be die hard “cyclists” but not everyone needs to be. I also want the term “cyclist” to be more accessible to folks that want to take part.

The last day of the conference we had a “visioning” session where we came up with common themes in the “movement” and in the end were asked what we were going to do to make the change we wanted to see. My mind was swimming with all the information I was taking in. It was not an easy task. It is so much easier to view information and talk about how smart you are. Turning that into action is the hard part right?

I’ve come to realize that The Hub is looked to as a “leader” in cycling here in Detroit. These articles, if I manage to weed out the typos, can influence the way folks think about cycling in Detroit. I’m not conceded enough to believe that my voice is the only one that matters, but through the Hub and this website, I have a megaphone available to me.

The action I promised to do at the conference is to use my megaphone to change the image of the cyclist. I believe that often cycling is tied to this image of an “urban pioneer.” How many times have we heard about the “blank canvas” that Detroit is? As if the whole city is full of empty buildings waiting for young white people such as myself to come occupy? I reject this idea. Often this young pioneer image is tied up with cycling. As if folks that look like me are the ones “bringing cycling back.” I think there is a history to be told and that history has many faces.  For most, cycling never went away, it was always here.

At the conference I listened to cyclists of color describe “riding while black” which is when they get pulled over by police for riding their bike. The police pull them over because their black skin suggests to the cop that they stole the bike or are transporting drugs. Other cyclists mentioned they felt they had to give up their black identity while on a bike. Similar issues were brought up by women, Asian Americans and people who felt they simply didn’t fit the “lifestyle.”

I want to start writing profiles on our friends we see all the time here at the Hub that look different, ride different and identify differently. Some of them may be “cyclists” while others may just like to ride bikes. However, if we are all riding around the city on the same transportation, than all those voices and images matter. Do you like your bike, but hate being called a “cyclist”? Do you look/identify differently than the young, white, able bodied image put forth in mainstream media? Send me a message and lets change the images that people are constantly bombarded with. I can’t tell the story alone, because it isn’t mine.

To start this off, I want to write a quick profile. I want to remember a friend to a lot of folks. His name is Woody Miller. I would often see him clad in biking spandex, walking awkwardly due to his cycling cleats he was wearing most of the time. This image fits a dominant cycling image. A tall strong male with all the best gear click-clacking around in cleats. But Woody was in his 60s, an African American living and working in Detroit. This isn’t a radical image of a cyclist to many of us, but then again, many of us are cyclists.

I’m not trying to tokenize Woody for being an older black cyclist, because there are many in Detroit, but it is also how Woody approached cycling. Woody was a caretaker for many folks. He helped promote Detroit area artists as a caretaker for the art scene and was quite literally a heath caretaker for friends at different times. Woody wasn’t the doctor or executive you usually see riding in a full bike kit and expensive road bike on their lunch break or weekends. Woody lived within his means and gave to others as well.

I remember a few years back we had a young man in our Mechanics in Training program. This MIT’s family had issues that aren’t all that unique to most people. To go to school he moved around to stay at different places so he could get to school in the mornings. He couldn’t always stay with the same family member for too long. I remember, Joey here at the Hub, giving this MIT tutoring to help him get by in school. We wanted to see him go to college and not into the army. Woody was a big part of this as well. This MIT loved bikes and even more so, he loved fast bikes. Woody took him under his wing on training rides and helped him out when he would be lacking in gear.

This young black youth from Detroit’s Eastside may not have been foreign from bicycles, but he didn’t necessarily fit the high-end bike racing image most people think of. But week after week Woody would take him out to train, encourage him in school and bring reports back to the Hub. If he was failing in school, Woody would let us know at the shop. We weren’t allowed to give this MIT any extra working hours if he didn’t get his grades up. I’m sure there are others out there like Woody, but the opportunities for young black men from Detroit wanting to become bicycle racers aren’t exactly numerous. Woody was a mentor and important part of many people’s lives as a cyclist and human being.

I remember racing in an alleycat with this MIT and it was tough to keep up! Not that I’m super fast, but Woody helped this young man turn into one of the fastest riders in Detroit. Maybe it is just me, but I don’t see that in the stories about cycling “coming back” to cities around the country. I don’t see that in mainstream images of black men.

I unfortunately didn’t get to know Woody that well since I was just starting here at the Hub when Woody passed away too young. So I can’t tell you Woody’s complete history of how he started bicycling, barriers he faced, why he rode and other connections to his bike. I can’t even go into all his identities he may have had. But I know that when I think of important Detroit cyclists, Woody is among them. I know many cycling folks in Detroit knew Woody, but as the cycling “movement” continues to grow I think it is important to not forget folks like him. Don’t let his image get washed away.

Bike “advocacy” and education organizations often look like the Hub. Though we live in a diverse city, our leadership is predominantly white. This is something we are aware of and are open to suggestions on how to change. However, just because people that look like me are in leadership positions doesn’t mean we are any more important than all the folks who participate in our community. Both “cyclists” and bike riders together.

We miss you Woody,

jason x