In the wake of the 3rd annual National Women’s Bicycling Forum in DC last week, there’s been some buzz online—does it make sense to have a separate women’s event? Does it help or does it segregate? Is the women’s forum the reason that the ensuing National Bike Summit was largely populated and led by white men? Does having a separate event mean women are accepting “separate but equal” status? Or is it empowering? Or a little of both? A lot of folks are talking about this, and with a lot of uncertainty.
I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. What do you do when a community or movement you love isn’t working? More specifically, when it isn’t working for you and for other people like you? And when this is a problem not just for the folks who are excluded, but for everyone who’s kind of stuck in a rut and missing out on the ideas and leadership new participants have to offer?
I’ve felt this way at times in the bicycle movement. I’ve also, at times, felt exhausted from fighting the battles that one fights in such a situation—to be heard, to be credited for your work, to stick up for each other, to always be the one to speak up when someone says or does something appalling… and then to have the old familiar arguments afterwards.
Joe describes it best, though in the context of the publishing industry, in which he has walked this talk with admirable success:
You can join something and change it from within.
Or you can fight it, defining yourself in opposition to it.
Or you can start your own version, in parallel—building it from the ground up and getting it right, creating a counter-example that the original alienating thing itself will, if it intends to survive, eventually end up emulating.
I have mad respect for women in bicycling who’ve chosen the first two paths. Their work and sacrifice is a big part of what’s created the freedom, support, and community that have allowed me and many others to veer off and create something new and different. What’s more, I have no doubt that there’s already someone out there reading this who thinks my work is a little stodgy, not radical enough. That’s great. Onward!
But the path I’ve chosen is the parallel one. And that’s what I hope will happen with the National Women’s Bicycling Forum. What if it became the main event, and bicycle advocacy heading into the future was primarily led by diverse women with a grassroots ethos? It’s entirely possible, since both events are organized by the same people at the League of American Bicyclists. So why not? If we want the movement to stay relevant and become more effective, that’s where the shift will happen.
Beyond that, I hope that by carving out spaces to build a new culture in parallel we can test new ways of doing these things. When they work, they’ll become the new normal.
To help grow the women’s bike movement even more, I’ve launched the Wheelwomen Switchboard—an online space for women worldwide who are involved in bicycling to connect with each other, share knowledge and resources, and build a stronger bicycle movement. In two days, it now has nearly 100 users on four continents who have posted (and responded to) 23 asks and 13 offers. If you identify as a woman and as someone who is in some way into bicycling, you’re invited to join and post—welcome!
Casualmente encontré esta foto de Rosael participando de unos “gold sprints”, y quise compartirla con ustedes. Hace ya algún tiempo que no presento a ninguna ciclista, espero que disfruten este post al igual que yo.
Rosael, oriunda de Mayagüez, quien reside hace 4 años en la ciudad de Nueva York. Nos relata su trayectoria y/o transición sobre como la bicicleta comenzó como su medio de transporte principal y ahora lo disfruta a nivel competitivo.
Empecé “commuting” al trabajo porque muchas veces es más rápido, menos problemático y económico que tomar el tren. Además de que es buen ejercicio y experimentas la ciudad de forma diferente y la conoces mejor. Luego comencé a janguiar con otros ciclistas y ahí empezó la fiebre y quería ir a todas partes en bici. En Abril del 2012 tuve un accidente bastante feo, una noche de camino a mi apto le di a un boquete en un carril de bicicletas y sali volada y terminé con liganmentos rotos en el hombro derecho y el lado derecho de la cara fracturada en 3 partes. Me operaron y la recuperación fue muy rápida, ya 10 meses después estaba corriendo bici. Entonces fue que tuve que comenzar a pagar deudas médicas como la terapia física, etc. Necesitaba un trabajo a tiempo parcial y un amigo de la comunidad ciclista me sugirió hacer deliveries de comida en los fines de semana, y así pagué gran parte de mis deudas. Estar tanto tiempo montada en la bici y janguiando con esta comunidad súper “supportive” me motivó a tomar el ciclismo un poco más enserio. Ahora mismo me encuentro entrenando para la temporada de track 2014, entrenando 2 a 3 veces en semana, y haciendo corridas en grupo de 50 millas o más de distancia una vez por semana.
Seeing as Track Or Die NYC is a small organization, there wasn’t much that we could do on such short notice, so I figured I would help raise awareness of the campaign through social media. While creating the manifest for the Island Alley Cat Race, we decided to make the velodrome the first checkpoint of the day. After arriving at the velodrome, riders would have to complete 2 full laps before receiving their signature and wristband to move to the next location, making this one of the more difficult checkpoints.
On our last day in Puerto Rico, the crew took a trip back to the Country Club Velodrome to meet up with Joanne and shoot some photos. Two hours and 400 mosquito bites later, we had some pretty quality shots to use for this article. This would be the second velodrome I would visit during my stay in Puerto Rico; the first was in Aguadilla. Both have a very different feel from other velodromes that I’ve visited.
Make sure you take a minute to check out the Save Velodromo campaign on Facebook ——-> Save Velodromo San Juan
Also check out the photos and video from our visit to the Country Club Velodrome.