“Am I doing the right thing? Am I taking a frivolous risk and putting my children in harm’s way?”
It’s been a challenging few weeks. I have two newly independent riders: my hesitant nine-year-old daughter and my exceptionally eager six-year-old son. As we have memorialized the loss of a 12-year-old boy in our community who was fatally struck while riding his bicycle, the risks of cycling have weighed heavily on me. And my children can tell you that weight has burdened our rides.
I have over-coached my kids, yelled out so many commands that everyone is left confused and frustrated, then had us pull over every two blocks to give a lecture on the safety risks we face and to correct riding mistakes. I’ve cried and worried, and I am still having nightmares about one of my kids not returning from a bike ride.
So, why are we still riding?
I ask myself that. I wrestle with it. Am I doing the right thing? Am I taking a frivolous risk and putting my children in harm’s way? What if the worst happens, what if… I can barely handle the thought.
Then I approach it from the other direction: What would our lives be like if we stopped biking? And what kind of life, what kind of decision-making, would we use to lead our family? How are we going to make any decision in the face of risks?
To the first: I firmly believe that biking and walking more (and driving less) is a better way to live. It’s better for our mental and physical health, our engagement with our community, for our environment and society. Biking brings our family great joy, and it has helped me to avoid depression – bringing me great happiness instead, a happiness shared by my children.
I am also a strong proponent of child independence: Currently my oldest son bikes himself to swim practice, youth symphony rehearsals, the library, and his favorite board game store. This is the lifestyle my husband and I dreamed of, and worked hard to provide for our children. We chose a house in an urban area where we could walk/bike to multiple places, and have access to public transit, specifically with the idea that we wanted to provide access to activities, friendships, culture and adventure for our kids — without them needing us to drive them in a car.
Biking isn’t just a recreational activity that we could trade for something else. It’s an important piece of a lifestyle we’ve cultivated and it’s a manifestation of our values and beliefs. Giving it up would be giving up something of ourselves, of who we are, of what we believe and value and how we put those beliefs into practice.
But that question gnaws at me: Is it “worth the risk”?
The truth is, we face all sorts of risks. And death by car is a very real one. I won’t downplay it. But it’s a real risk when riding in a car too – giving up bike riding doesn’t eliminate that risk. And the leading cause of death for children has recently been due to gun violence or “firearm related injuries.” What am I doing to avoid that risk? How does one, individually, prevent the risk of getting shot? I don’t even know how to go about preventing that. Drowning is a risk too, and yet we still go to the coast and splash in the waves. Do I worry about that? Yep. But am I willing to let my fear of drowning prevent us from enjoying time in the water? Nope.
Our lives are full of risks. I can’t prevent something terrible from happening to myself or my children, no matter what transportation decision or other life choices we make. As for how we handle risk as a family; I want to empower my children to pursue their dreams, and even to encourage them to take worthy risks and make sacrifices. I want them to learn to bravely pursue what they believe is right, and to work for what is right, to sacrifice for it, and even to take risks in pursuit of it – especially when those risks are for the common good, or the good of people beyond themselves.
Ultimately, I keep biking because I believe it’s the right way for us to live. And even though I am afraid, I am more unwilling to let fear dictate how we live. So when I get all the kids out on bikes, or when I wave my son off to bike himself to swim practice, I hold on to this: this is the right way for us to live. Sometimes living what we believe means taking risks, and it takes courage. But biking is good. And it’s right. And so, our family continues to bike.