As a pedestrian in New York City, I generally feel that I am the lowest of the low, the bottom of the barrel, the – well, insert your favorite metaphor for “unimportant” here. Why? Stoplights are timed to move motor vehicles along, not to give me a chance to put one foot in front of the other and reach the other side of the avenue before the next wave of cars approaches. Bikes get their own lane on many streets and all too often, uninhibited and unticketed, dominate the sidewalk as well. And then I saw this sign:
I’m “traffic” now!
I thought about the phrase “pedestrian traffic” as I plodded through the detour this “notice” required. According to the dictionary, the noun “traffic” means “vehicles moving on a road,” “dealing or trading in something illegal,” or “communications between people.” I am not a Ferrari, a drug transaction, or a text message. I am a person who travels via feet. So what does this sign really mean? If the first definition applied, I’d expect an upgrade in “pedestrian traffic” flow – lights timed to the average traveled-foot-inch per minute, for example. Nope. If the last definition applied, I’d expect the Department of Transportation to respond to the many cries for bike-free sidewalks. Nope again. So I’m choosing door number two. And I thank the DOT for banning trades of, say, one babysitter pushing a double-wide stroller for two guys with briefcases plus an oblivious texter to be named later.
Emboldened by this upgrade to “traffic” status, I went out again – and found this:
Wait where?
At the start of my first year as a teacher – and this is a true story – I questioned my principal about the schedule calling for me to teach two different classes at the same time on two different floors. Her answer? “Young people don’t want to face obstacles.” Oh. So too, at this corner, was I obliged to “wait” at two different places at the same time.
I won’t bother discussing the indignity of being a “ped.” It’s nice out. I’d rather take a walk.
On one side of the structure there must be a sign that says, “Don’t wait here to cross,” otherwise there’s no point in telling the pedestrians where they can wait, assuming, of course, that the sign contemplates the Ferrari type of traffic. But since when do pedestrians need to be told where to wait in the first place (NPI), unless they’re the other kind of pedestrians: dullards?
I walked back to check the corner in the photo – no “don’t wait here” sign. I’m not sure why the DOT feels the need to tell pedestrians where to wait, though to be fair I should note that NYC pedestrians often appear to wander around without thinking. Perhaps we do need some “where to wait” advice, but consistent advice might be better!
Funny, ’cause I’m always reading that NY is a city of walkers, y’know? Plus, supposedly so many New Yorkers don’t have cars… or at least, if they do, they don’t use them in the city. Yet as your blog shows, the signs are so pedestrian-unfriendly. Go figure, eh?
New York still is a city of walkers. My husband and I don’t own a car, like many others here. We rely on subways, buses, and our feet. Sadly, I do believe that pedestrians are marginalized more and more in the city’s official policies. Sigh.