My Neighborhood

I spend quite a lot of time on my bike these days. I know her well, since we spend at least an hour together most days. I've stopped riding the bus for the most part; it just takes so long, nearly twice as long as just riding to work. Plus, the bus doesn't go by the co-op grocery anymore, so if I decide I need to pick anything up on the way home, I can't.

It took me probably a month before I perfected my route to and from work. I take 52nd to Prescott, to 47th, to Calvert, which turns into Sheridan. Sheridan is my favorite street in Lincoln, I think, with its giant trees and picturesque houses. Then I take Ryon, which is only a block before South St., and runs parallel to it, in order to avoid all the traffic; Ryon is residential and much of it is brick road. I cross South at 17th, go two blocks, and take 15th toward the capitol building. Just a few blocks from the capitol, I turn on C Street, which I take to 8th, which goes all the way to work, at 8th and S.

I really like my route. I don't have to be downtown at all. I avoid most traffic and stop lights. In the early morning I can make it all the way to work without ever stopping! (Yes, I run red lights, but I look both ways first.)

Last night I rode home about 11:30. I was tired and not paying much attention, but I noticed that I wasn't hitting my usual bumps in the road. I thought that was weird; where was the funny up-down-up-down of the tiretracks when I crossed 13th St.? Why didn't I ever have to avoid the man-eating pothole by the church? Then another strange thing happened. Two men sitting by the curb made kissy noises at me. That's never happened before! There are no strange loafing men in MY neighborhood!

Because even though I don't live there, there's a section of C Street that I consider my neighborhood. It's my favorite part of the ride. It turns out I'd taken E Street instead of C; E Street at 13th or so is a Hispanic neighborhood, but the bad one. C Street at 13th is also a Hispanic neighborhood, but a good one. My neighborhood has lots of families. They sit out in their yards together, moms, dads, grandparents, and kids, in the afternoons. In the morning, little kids play with sticks and dolls on the steps. (Kids, playing outside!) Tiny girls run to the curb to wave at me, and when I say hello, they yell "HI!" to me with big grins, like seeing me is the best part of their day. Teenagers play impromptu soccer games in the street, and always move out of my way when they see me coming, nodding politely when I pass. There is a Spanish church, and a school. I feel safe in my neighborhood. (I did not feel safe on E Street last night.)

I'm glad neighborhoods like my C Street stretch still exist. I'm glad there are places that I can feel safe and observe beautiful lives of happy families (and I am extra glad that this beautiful neighborhood is a minority neighborhood).