OPINION | We Deserve This Lane: Lake Washington Boulevard Belongs to People, Too

Let me be honest with you. Part of me cannot believe we are still having this argument.

There is a war happening. There is an affordability crisis hollowing out this city block by block. There are young people in South Seattle whose summers will tragically be marked by gun violence. And yet here we are, spending real civic energy debating whether a single road should be closed to through-traffic 33 days out of the year.

But since we're here, and I am a Black man who has lived in Rainier Beach for the majority of my life, let me solidly say this: I am fully behind the closure of Lake Washington Boulevard.

And it's not because I hate cars.

And it's not because I think bicyclists are morally superior beings sent from the future to save us through moisture-wicking fabrics.

And it's certainly not because I think every urban planning idea with the word "activation" in it deserves applause.

I support it because every once in a while a city should prioritize actual human beings over automotive convenience. Particularly when those people are Black and Brown, if there is an equity issue, it is that one.

Yes, communities of color have historically been denied access to nature. Research from the Hispanic Access Foundation and Center for American Progress found that communities of color are nearly three times more likely than white communities to live in "nature deprived" areas — basically places with less access to parks, paths, and green space. And that's not by accident either. It's the direct result of redlining, disinvestment, and highways bulldozed through Black and Brown neighborhoods.

One of the things that gets lost in this conversation is that South Seattle has historically had less access to safe green space, recreational infrastructure, and pedestrian-friendly public investment than wealthier parts of the city. That's not my opinion, but decades of documented urban planning and racial inequity.

So when someone argues that closing Lake Washington Boulevard hurts communities of color, they have the analysis exactly backwards. The closure is not the barrier, the cars are. A flat, continuous, scenic three-mile corridor along the water, free of speeding traffic, is precisely the kind of resource that Southeast Seattle residents deserve and have too rarely had. Ask organizations like Bike Works, Black Girls Do Bike, and NorthStar Cycling who's actually using Lake Washington Boulevard when the cars are gone. When cars are absent, the people using this road are not a monochrome catalog of Lycra and lattes — they are this community, in all its variety. Then go look at photos of the people who were protesting the closure this weekend. Let's just say it was the crowd you might expect at The Andy Griffith Show trivia night.

The safety case alone should close this debate. Drivers routinely speed on Lake Washington Boulevard. A 59-year-old man was seriously struck by a car there. A few weeks leading up to this summer's closure, two separate drivers managed to launch themselves into Lake Washington. For those who argue the dangers are exaggerated, I have a simple question: What number is acceptable to you? One death per year? Two? Three? How many severe injuries and broken bones constitute a reasonable toll on a road that will be restricted for only 9% of the year and wide-ass open the other 91% of the time?

Let's be exact about what the closure actually is: This is not a ban. Residents, guests, and deliveries can still access homes from cross streets. Every parking lot along the boulevard remains open and free. The road returns to full operation after Labor Day. What is being restricted is through-traffic, people using a scenic waterfront road as a commuter shortcut, so that the rest of us can walk, roll, stroll, skate, and breathe there without the threat of someone doing 40 mph past our children.

Historically, the boulevard was originally conceived as a bicycle path before automobiles became widespread. The closure does not reinvent this road but partially restores what it was always meant to be.

Now, a word to those on the pro-closure side: If you've only lived in this community post-peak COVID and found yourself calling opponents undeserving of being heard, please do some reflection. Long-time South Seattle residents have been through a lot and earned the right to their opinion, just like you. We can reasonably disagree without viewing their opinions as unworthy of consideration. Simply saying "I see it differently and here's why" goes a long way.

The last thing this conversation needs is to hand ammunition to anyone looking to frame bike and pedestrian access as gentrification. If you feel that strongly, have the temerity to take it to the boulevard itself. Find someone who disagrees, look them in the eye, and have the actual conversation over the water, instead of a keyboard. 

The real question underneath all of this is: Who is public infrastructure actually for?

Fast through-traffic? Or the grandmother walking slowly with her grandchildren? The teenager learning to ride? The dad pushing a stroller? The elder who needs flat ground to move safely?

We deserve to have beautiful, uninterrupted public space, particularly when so much of daily life feels so heavy. We deserve the sound of water without the sound of engines, and to let our children run ahead of us without calculating the risk.

After Sept. 7, the cars come back. Until then, this road belongs to everyone.

That seems more than fair to me.

The South Seattle Emerald is committed to holding space for a variety of viewpoints within our community, with the understanding that differing perspectives do not negate mutual respect amongst community members.

The opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints expressed by the contributors on this website do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints of the Emerald or official policies of the Emerald.

John Aaron is an avid biker and South Seattle resident.