If all arguments fail when promoting people-oriented places, there’s always the melodramatic plea “think of the children!” a la Helen Lovejoy of The Simpsons. Children are the world, the future, our hope, and a million other sentimental adages to tug on our hearts and consciences. Satirical rhetoric aside, considering future generations in urban planning is not only sound but beneficial to all.
As a mother, I’ve become that much more aware of urban design and car culture recently. We’re in Mexico now because I want Britt to experience new things, but with more vehicles clogging San Miguel de Allende’s narrow streets every day and quirky neighborhoods giving way to stuffy colonial-esque facades in the name of tourism, I’m worried about the future of cities and how my child’s generation will inherit the problems we’re busy creating today. I’ve always believed in people-oriented cities, being a parent makes me advocate for them that much more.
Even people that don’t have or want — or even like — kids can still appreciate thoughtful urban planning that takes into account younger generations: Clean, welcoming, equitable, and safe streets benefit everyone (hats off to Madrid for brilliantly installing playgrounds beside outdoor cafes, total urban planning + parental win). With the Avenida Guadalupe tree incident last week, nanny Belen and I talked about how tragic the whole ordeal was, not just for future generations but for SMA’s citizens. Our streets weren’t always filled with cars, there used to be trees and shade and benches where people relaxed, children played in the street unsupervised, she wistfully told me. And the plans, the impersonal and searingly dull plans being shoved down the Avenida’s throat, where were the people? And where were the cars? Because with such a wide road devoid of people, cars and traffic are a given, sucking what little life remains of Avenida Guadalupe. But architectural renderings rarely portray reality, instead selling fluffy, out-of-touch ideas to fluffy, out-of-touch people (ArchDaily’s “Are renderings bad for architecture?” is an interesting read).
Curious what Avenida Guadalupe and other parts of San Miguel de Allende would look like car-free, I enlisted a graphic designer to help me re-envision SMA as a more people-oriented place. Here are the images we came up with. Seeing SMA’s car-inundated spaces transformed into people-oriented places is an eye-opening lesson for all of us in urban design.
Ancha de San Antonio
But the above aren’t the only opportunity areas to make SMA more people-friendly, because, like most urban places today, almost the entire city outside of the centro is overrun with cars. The Ancha de San Antonio is another street that could be improved, and I was fortunate enough to experience the thoroughfare as a pedestrian-only space.
This is one of the main roads in and out of San Miguel de Allende, and the official route of SMA’s frequent parades to the centro. On September 29th, Britt and I were running errands around town when we stumbled upon the tail end of traditional, local dances making their noisy way into town. The streets had been roped off for dancers and spectators. Vendors sold toys made by hand from random scraps of material, food carts stuffed with fruit and roasted corn lined side streets, cotton candy was hard to miss in its neon pink, purple, and blue glory. In other words, the Ancha de San Antonio was full of life and celebration and culture, the atmosphere was safe and pleasant and suddenly running errands became less tedious.
Once the parade was over, though, the street was cleared of people and returned to the cars. Things quickly reverted back to “normal” and I wondered if what I’d just witnessed had been an urban planning mirage or if the streets really had belonged to the people. Because the ancha, despite being a lovely street, is absolutely miserable when packed with cars, making me wonder why locals fought so hard in 2013 to keep it from becoming a pedestrian zone.
On the ancha going towards town, one day I took photos of the street shut down for construction work. Despite the mess, I found the car-free atmosphere to be quite pleasant. People meandered about, shopkeepers swept their storefronts and kept an eye on the street. If I’d had a good book and there’d been a sidewalk cafe, I would have happily sat down for a quick coffee break.