I take a lot of photos in public places, or not so public places, and people wondering if I am up to no good challenge me. Because "I can talk" (your ear off), usually it's not a problem.
Nick Epley was commuting to work at the University of Chicago when he looked across the train and wondered: Why are all these people sitting elbow to elbow ignoring each other?
After reading it, I decided to try the experiment myself. For the past month, on my commute to work, at kids’ birthday parties with my daughter, in the elevator at the office and on the street while walking my dog, I’ve been challenging myself to talk to strangers. Would it actually feel good, or just awkward?
I’ve always been a fairly outgoing person, but the idea of talking to strangers and befriending acquaintances still made me feel anxious. As I contemplated opening my mouth to talk to the stranger sitting next to me on a nearly-silent bus, I felt as if my jaw was sealed shut by fear. What if she didn’t want to talk to me? What if I said the wrong thing, or she felt like I was bothering her?
Ever since my involvement in college student government, I can "talk". This increased manyfold as I got more involved in urban planning.
In my recent playground study for a grant application, I talked to people at "playgrounds," like the "senior" Fitlot at Columbus Center in South Salt Lake.
Even though it was built with money from AARP, it turns out an Instagram group called #slc.calisthenics organizes meetups there and at similar sets of equipment, and lots of people of all ages end up using it--part of my observation is that people/kids play with what's there especially when "more appropriate" equipment isn't present. I saw a four year old doing pull ups on the same set.
I talked to little kids like this one. She said the monkey bars are her favorite element at playgrounds. (So did an older boy at a different playground.) So I aim to have more types of monkey bars present at the playground.
Observations, analysis, and conversations made the application so much stronger. Going to about 15 different playgrounds in a couple days educated me fast and deeply about playgrounds--including realizing I needed to be there when kids were, because I didn't know how they used certain equipment.
Young children like learning to bicycle on soft surfaces because it doesn't hurt when you fall.
We need wider sidewalks around the playground oval because there is mixed traffic--kids on scooters, bikes, skates, skateboards, adults on bikes (because we have inadequate bike parking, people walking, people sitting to the side, etc.
Greenhorn Fire Station Workforce Housing, Ketchum, Idaho. When I was taking photos of these buildings at what turned out to be the Greenhorn Fire Station, I learned the back story, which I wouldn't have known otherwise.
I took the photos because I thought the buildings were an interesting interpretation of the New Orleans shotgun style house, and years ago, I helped write a chapter in a book compilation about the type.
I learned after being challenged, not realizing it was a fire station, and photographers could be would-be terrorists, one of the tenants came out to ask me what I was doing. As a result, I learned the back story of the complex, for which I would have had no idea about otherwise.
In an area of ever increasing housing costs because of its being a resort area, it's an effort by the North Blaine County Fire District to provide workforce housing. They rent the land from Idaho DOT, for the Greenhorn Fire Station, and built eight prefabricated units, mostly with donated funds.
What an interesting and important project.
Labels: building design/architecture, change-innovation-transformation, civic architecture, discovery research, knowledge management, workforce housing
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