On Thursday I had the great honor of visiting Austin Miller’s journalism class at Beaverton Arts and Communication Magnet Academy (ACMA). Austin attended ACMA before his tragic death Monday afternoon while biking home from school. One of his teachers, Leann O’Rourk, had invited me to come and talk to his friends and classmates. What I learned prior to arriving was that Austin was well-loved by students and teachers alike and was very active in this journalism class as a designer and opinion writer for the school newspaper, the Savant. Ms. O’Rourk asked me to be prepared for a basic Q & A session but beyond that neither of us knew what to expect.
Upon arriving I walked the school halls that were packed with what seemed to me obviously talented, creative students on a lunch break. The students seemed to be grouped by form of self expression – dancers, artists, singers, writers – and as an outsider I was struck by the passion each of these kids seemed to exude. I thought about Austin, and wondered where his ‘group’ was and how they were doing.
After entering the library and being welcomed by Ms. O’Rourk I sat to wait for the arrival of students. I had been warned that this was normally a loud, chaotic bunch that typically had no problem finding their voice and speaking out. As they started trickling in they very much acted like normal high school students on any given day. But as they settled in their seats copies of the day’s two articles about Austin were circulated and all at once the room was filled with stone cold silence. Even Ms. O’Rourk’s voice seemed to crack a bit as she respectfully interrupted their reading to introduce me. There were a few tentative, silent glances my way, but these kids were still somewhere else that I couldn’t begin to imagine.
The newspaper editor (a student) quickly introduced herself and let me know that as a group they had decided to just have two writers interview me. That was fine with me; I had come to realize that finding the right words if I had to stand and speak would be a challenge. The two interviewers and I left for a more quiet place and I did my best to answer their questions. I’ve been interviewed countless times in my life and in far more formal settings but I suddenly felt so helpless to provide any good answers. I knew they weren’t counting on me specifically to give them a golden nugget of advice, but it seemed so vital that I leave them with something. And I struggled.
“What can we do?” they asked, so I gave them my list of ideas and tidbits of advice. “What does Portland do to make biking safer?” they asked, so I told them about bike boxes and meetings between key officials. “Why did you take this job at the BTA?” they asked, and that was the question that brought it all home for me. I remembered why, but I couldn’t find the courage to say to them that it’s because I don’t want one of my daughters to be Austin someday. And I don’t want to have to try and comfort or advise another group of kids after the death of one of their peers on a bike.
What I did end up saying to answer their question is that I do this work because I believe it’s going to take all the energy of a focused group of parents, advocates, activists, city officials – whomever – to make a real change in the world. I love biking and by virtue of working at the BTA I now consider myself a bike advocate. But truthfully, my passion is children and I’m resolved to work to improve their world.
With any luck we’ll all benefit from safety improvements and more respectful treatment for and between all road users but it’s going to take the whole village, so to speak. While the BTA and other groups work to improve conditions here in Portland and across Oregon, there is still quite a mountain of work left to be done. We need to rally in support of Safe, Sound and Green, we need to increase our volunteer pool for Bike Safety community rides, we need to develop bike safety education courses for high school kids and adults, and we all need to ride more often as families and with children. We cannot slump our shoulders, we cannot try to shield our kids by keeping them off the road, and we absolutely cannot give up on working toward a greater quantity and quality of safe places for all of us to ride. There are too many young, bright, talented youth out there who depend on all of us to do our part.
I send my sincere thanks to the students at ACMA for being so brave as to ask the questions that need to be answered, and I offer my deepest condolences to Austin’s family and friends.
