It was my grandfather's birthday recently and we went for a walk in his neighbourhood, which was also my neighbourhood until I was 17. Although I still go there from time to time, the truth is that when I go to see him we don't go for a walk, so I see the neighbourhood with my eyes: those of the city' s urgency, those of the rush, those of the speed that my feet allow me. I pass through the streets that take me from the metro to his house or I look at it from the eyes of the car if I go with my father. I notice the spaces that take me back to my memories and how the colour or the names of the shops have changed and which ones have been able to survive the passage of time.
During this last walk with my grandfather, I had to see it differently. Not with his eyes, but with the eyes of someone who doesn't want his grandfather to stumble and fall. It was certainly another experience of the same space. Going to the pharmacy seemed like a real risky sport for a nonagenarian. At that moment, while I was adapting to the slow walking of this 94-year-old man, the idea (the need) to write this post came to my mind: Does my grandfather have a right to the city?
I'll tell you that we didn't walk a long distance on the little walk, but it was difficult. My grandfather walks more and more slowly, his steps are shorter and his spatial awareness is very different from when he was younger. His sense of balance has changed and he responds more slowly to a runner passing close by, or to a change in the street grid. He does not need a cane or a walker, but is much more dependent on the state of conservation of the pavement, for example, to keep his balance and not fall.
In Palomeras (Puente de Vallecas district), the neighbourhood where I grew up, the pavement seems to be the same as when I was 14 years old, regardless of how it has been preserved these days (spoiler: badly). It made me angry, honestly, to see that the benches were the same ones I remember playing cards on, but with cracks (they were made of cement, without backs, very uncomfortable for someone who wasn't 14), very badly preserved. The trees, which have grown larger with the passage of time and for which some protection from the heat is appreciated, had lifted the pavement and you had to be careful not to trip. In reality, the problem was not so much with the trees as with the tree pits, which have gradually become degraded and are easy to trip over. I don't doubt that they were super-novelty in the 1990s, when trees were planted with children's names (although the ceramic plaques bearing their names are no longer legible), but they need to be rethought, modified. Repaired, without going any further.
If I tell you that this avenue has wide pavements (although the paving has been destroyed) in my grandfather's street we are not so lucky: the pavements are very, very narrow, the result of a design from the 1960s that is now difficult to modify without destroying and rebuilding. Well, there would be a way to modify it if it were not necessary to resort to bollards, but for that we would all have to collaborate and in that, it seems that we are not up for it (wait a minute, we' re going over this one now). In these narrow streets, the pavements are inaccessible. Not only for my grandfather, but also for myself. The little gardens between the doorways are cared for, but not the "wild" plants that have made their way between the cobblestones and have grown to form a small urban and rebellious jungle.
The other big problem (and hence my statement that we are not up to the task) is responsible for numerous blows to other people's knees: the bollards or pivots that prevent cars from parking. If they were not necessary, we could make a single road, without heights or division between sidewalk and road. But if in this narrow street it has been necessary to put pivots in the mini sidewalks, it is so that the cars do not invade the sidewalks. And here, the fault does not lie with an administration that forgets some neighborhoods and some users of urban space, but with each and every one of us when we do not think it is bad to park on the sidewalk, when we make it difficult for people with mobility problems, those with a stroller, small children and older neighbors.
The fact is that I can tell you that it was a short journey in distance (we celebrated it at the churrería, eating chocolate with churros, which my grandfather loves) but long in time and… stressful. I was tense all the time, also being aware of how much less going out on the street has affected my grandfather and how many dangers a normal path has. Stressful, trying to avoid the most damaged sections of the street, the trips, the falls in his neighborhood of a lifetime. Does my grandfather have the right to walk around his neighborhood? To go alone to the pharmacy, without someone to take him by the arm to avoid slipping into a sinkhole that the administration does not repair?
Although my grandfather does what he wants, we insist that he not go far from the neighborhood alone. In one of his last adventures (those that he tells you that he is not going to do, of course) he tripped over a sidewalk in poor condition, fell and injured himself. My father got very angry: “How dare you go alone?”. And, understanding my father, his concern and his anger, was it my grandfather's responsibility for leaving his known environment, the one that is supposed to be safer but that we have seen is not? The problem I see here is that the fact that the city is not adapted to people with mobility problems (although at the point where he fell, I could easily have done it myself) not only puts us at risk, but ultimately prevents us from using it as we would like, walking alone, for example. Without safe spaces we are punishing older people to stay home.
The physical and spatial context influences people throughout the life course and comes to determine how we age and how we respond to illness, loss of function and other forms of loss and adversity that we may experience in old age. but also in other vital periods in which our mobility or our balance is not the same (an operation, an ankle sprain). It also affects us when it comes to being able to exercise care and does not allow us to use some streets if we carry, for example, a baby stroller. Or a wheelchair. For the influence of the environment to be positive in old age (and at any other time in life), it is necessary for the urban space to be able to respond to the changing needs of people and not become an impediment to their social participation .
The configuration of the urban space and its accessibility are key to the positive resignification of old age, but also so that this stage is lived in health. If the space does not allow an adequate adaptation of the elderly person, it will become a source of stress. In some way, we all negotiate daily between our physical and mobility capabilities and the conditions of space. When the negotiation between the characteristics of space and our own physical needs and capacities is negative, we tend to develop less attachment to space (less desire to be in it) or an ambivalent attachment. This contributes to greater isolation and produces a very negative effect on self-concept, as we will feel defeated and incapable, when in reality it is the space that is expelling us from its use. If the adaptation effort is too much for the person, they will stop wanting to use the public space, which will limit their social interactions. This decreases the use of public space by the elderly (and many others of all ages), which will reduce the quantity and quality of interactions in the social space of the city, also producing age segregation in urban space and aggravating age discrimination.
In addition to the negative consequences on his health, if a person cannot go outside normally, he will increase his propensity to suffer from loneliness. We tend to assume that loneliness is the exclusive result of the behaviors and attitudes of a more individualistic society, when it is the urban space itself that is condemning them to not being able to go out to socialize on the street. We are sensitive to loneliness and we know that it is an evil that must be avoided, but we forget when we park the car "a little" on the sidewalk to avoid parking further away or when we step "another little" on the crosswalk, just where the access ramp begins, or when we do not realize that the step of our van occupies half of the sidewalk. We used to complain a lot about how isolated we were during the pandemic, when we couldn't go down to the street, but we forget about the people who always live like this, even if they are not threatened by a virus or a pandemic.
It is not worth criticizing the individualistic society that allows the solitude of the elderly when, at the same time, we are condemning people to remain in their homes because the urban space does not adapt to their needs. It is not worth saying that we care about older people, that loneliness is a great evil, and then condemning them to stay at home because we do not invest in public space. It is not worth wanting to cut the sources of income that are aimed at improving what will be for everyone. The streets, the public space, also need taxes to adapt to the needs of all people.
A suitable environment that responds to the needs of the population is key to the establishment of social links and to making the most of the potential of all the people who make up our society. Depending on how the space is configured, we can (or cannot) give a different meaning to the way we relate to the outside world. And depending on whether it is preserved (or not), we can use that space (or not). We talk more about urban design; we talk less about the conservation of public space (even the pavement) or similar issues. Well, we are going to have to take a good look at it, no doubt.
