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By Wendy Rojo
I got my driver’s license at the age of 20. In this day and age, getting your license at age 20 seems absurd with how necessary driving is here in Dallas or any metropolitan community. Transportation is a crucial part of our existence especially here in Texas where everything is so spaced out. But buying a car, getting car insurance, and maintaining a car are costly things. There is also a safety concern and driving can cause extreme stress or fear for some.
Therefore, we need to offer alternatives for those who may not be able to afford a car or for those who simply choose not to drive. Public transportation is a good alternative. The Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) provides various services to help all those who may need transportation assistance. DART has train systems, bus routes, paratransit options, a streetcar, a trolley service, and a GoLink service. Each service allows users to choose personalized services that best fits their needs.
Having these services is crucial to our livelihood, especially in a buzzing metropolitan area. Another form of transportation we can use is walking. But anyone who has tried to navigate downtown Dallas on foot will tell you to not do it or to be prepared. There is constant construction in various parts of Dallas and that makes it extremely hard to safely navigate on foot. But it is not entirely unmanageable since there are resources like DART or The Connector that are available at a low-cost or for free. They can be used in addition to walking.
No one should have to stress about how they are going to get somewhere in a society where we are constantly reaching for the newest technology.
The Connector is a free transportation service offered to those who are unhoused.
It stops at various shelters and resource centers throughout Dallas. Services like The Connector and the paratransit offered by DART are much needed in a time when cities are constantly evolving and constantly changing their surroundings. No one should have to stress about how they are going to get somewhere in a society where we are constantly reaching for the newest technology.
The increased potential for issues like depression can be caused by the isolation that comes from having no reliable transportation.
Transportation and the ability to move around places is crucial. No one should have to deal with the added stress of figuring out transportation. Health Care Access Now found a link between mental health and reliable transportation. The organization argued that mental health can affect a person’s ability to obtain reliable transportation and having unreliable transportation can increase a person’s risk for mental health issues. The increased potential
for issues like depression can be caused by the isolation that comes from having no reliable transportation. The feeling of living in a busy city without a way to explore or get around is extremely lonely.
It is crucial to continue the push for accessible transportation services for all.
But with DART’s specialized transportation methods and The Connector, the world seems more manageable. Transportation should not be an added stressor that anyone should have to deal with. It is crucial to continue the push for accessible transportation services for all. We should to push for and fund services like The Connector that are leading the way in transportation services.
By Poppy Sundeen
Eduardo Tamayo used to make his living as a house painter. He had a car and was free to drive to and from worksites and wherever else he wanted to go. All that changed in 2007 when a car accident left him with serious injuries and chronic pain. No longer able to work, he had to adjust to a different life.
A major part of the adjustment was giving up his car and the easy mobility that came with it. He had to learn to rely on Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) for transportation to and from his home. His current residence is in Uptown Dallas, just two blocks from a bus stop. The proximity is a godsend for Eduardo. “I use DART every day,” he says.
Getting the lay of the land
Even with a bus stop nearby, the transition from driver to transit rider takes a concerted effort. You have to learn the system, plan your routes, and get a sense of how long it will take you to get where you’re going. Eduardo quickly mastered DART. “It’s not hard. I catch the bus near where I live. It’s how I get to my appointments.”
Eduardo’s appointments take up much of his week. They include visits to Parkland for medical care to treat the lingering pain and complications from his car accident. “I can catch the number 23 bus, and it takes about 20 minutes to get to Parkland.” He also makes frequent trips to The Stewpot to see the case manager who is helping him manage his disability benefits.
His history with The Stewpot predates the organization’s move to a new campus on Malcolm X Boulevard in South Dallas. He got acquainted with The Stewpot through their housing program and continues to rely on a number of services there. Eduardo made a point of promptly learning the bus route to the new Stewpot location. It’s farther from his home and adds to the trip. “It takes maybe 35 or 40 minutes for me to get to The Stewpot on DART.” Eduardo considers it well worth the time and effort. “The Stewpot is excellent. I’m really happy that they help me.”
During the week, Eduardo uses transit to get to medical appointments and to access services, but on weekends the trips support soul as well as body. That’s when he goes to his brother’s family home in Irving. “I catch the DART bus to the West End and then transfer to the train. It takes an hour and 20 minutes to get there.” His brother picks him up at the Irving station, and they spend the weekend together.
Last December, Eduardo made a significantly longer trip to see family. His brother gave him money for a bus ticket to Guanajuato, Mexico, where the brothers lived with their parents before immigrating to the United States 35 years ago. With no direct route from Dallas to Guanajuato, the journey can take more than 23 hours. A long bus trip like that is difficult even for young, healthy bodies. For the 53-year-old Eduardo who suffers from chronic back pain it was tiring, but the joy of reuniting with his parents reinvigorated him. “I was there for Christmas and spent two weeks with them.”
Since returning to Dallas in January, Eduardo has settled back into his usual routine. He walks two blocks to the DART bus stop and rides to his weekly appointments. He takes the train to his brother’s house for cherished family weekends. He travels on foot to pick up groceries at his neighborhood Kroger. Like the rest of us, he puts one foot in front of the other and finds joy where he can along the way.
Poppy Sundeen, a Dallas writer, is a member of The STREETZine editorial board.
By James Varas
I first started traveling across the United States with a moving company. My initial journey involved loading up a full house in Houston and transporting the possessions to New Orleans. I hadn’t been to New Orleans since I was five years old, when I drove there with my parents. (That’s also when I left my mom’s hand, jumped up on stage with some young people, and started dancing with them. But that’s a story for another time.)
This time it would be me driving the load across Texas. After loading the truck and taking it to our moving company’s headquarters, I went home and began to think about what I should pack. “Everything” was the answer I always gave that question. That way you don’t need to buy something on the road because you forgot it.
By Jason Turner
It’s been over 10 years since I drove an 18-wheeler, but my experience was vivid and my encounters with America were pleasurable. The wonders of the USA as the seasons changed were surreal. As fall turned to winter, I would see the leaves turn and snow start to come down. I saw evergreen forests and experienced hot temperatures as I drove across the South.
I also saw many accidents, including fatalities. That horror I wouldn’t mind forgetting but it is important as far as driving goes. We need to remember how to drive safely. We all know distracted driving kills many people every year.
Highways can be long and rigid but, to my surprise, there were not too many potholes. And rolling hills were fun. I liked mountain driving the best, but I know some truckers won’t drive above a certain sea level.
The days are long as truck drivers can drive up to 10 hours in one sitting. The traffic laws are the same mostly from state to state, although speed limits change constantly.
The people I met along the way were very kind to truck drivers. As a guest at their businesses, people would naturally respect what truckers do for the nation in transporting goods. Courtesy and
Seven o’clock came early the next morning. My fellow driver and I were on the road again. We made sure we were fueled up and had all the directions. We would drive about four hours and then hit a truck stop. We would check the trailer, check the tires, give our windshield a good wipe down, and fuel up again. Then we could always get our bearings and see where we wanted to stop and have a good meal.
Sometimes the nice pancake house would be sufficient, but we knew we were heading on over to Louisiana. We had crawfish on our minds, along with boudin, and alligator. Well, I was probably the only one with alligator in mind. But we did think about frog legs and all the other wonderful cuisines you can find in New Orleans.
I ended up getting a fried alligator
accountability were important when making drop-offs and picking up items in many different cities. Docks and receiving bays were sometimes extremely difficult to back into. Sometimes the units I was backing into would be across two or three lanes of traffic. Whew, that was work.
The most invigorating experience of mine as a truck driver was going into The Bronx and Brooklyn. The roads were so narrow that I had to constantly navigate them to keep accidents from happening.
I never got into any accidents besides a couple of minor backing accidents that peeled the paint off a bit of the back of another man’s trailer. (The most backing I did anywhere was in the snow to the back of a man’s house in Maine where I picked up salmon.) Other than that accident, I was a really safe driver. I tried not to speed and usually left my truck in cruise control to save gas mileage.
sandwich with some boudin. Some of my coworkers would laugh and say, “How can you eat that?” I used to tell them, “Yum!”
This was my first venture into the United States where I was driving. I eventually went to 46 states. I’ve had lobster in Maine. I’ve had elk in Wyoming. I’ve seen beautiful sunrises in New Mexico. I’ve seen seagulls in Seattle that look like eagles. I have even swum in Boston Bay. I’ve seen the Statue of Liberty, and the list goes on and on.
I hope you too get to see the beauty of this nation. There’s nothing like being on the road and watching that sunrise. The sun comes up and lights up a new place that you have never seen before.
James Varas is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
doctor’s appointment, choir practice, or just getting some casual shopping done, I take the train.
Today, I ride public transportation, including the bus and and train. Only rarely do I ride one of Dallas’ trolleys. I enjoy riding the train, which is only a seven-minute bus ride to my college. I do that twice a week. Whether I have a
After driving a truck for four years, I really enjoy sitting back on public transportation and not having to pay attention to all the laws of the road.
Jason Turner is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
Editor’s Note: The following essay addresses a misunderstanding about homelessness. This blog post, along with many others, can be found online at www.thestewpot.org/street-level
By Savita Vega
There’s an ‘80s song by Bruce Hornsby and The Range that captures many people’s sentiments today about those experiencing homelessness. The chorus chimes, “A man in a silk suit hurries by/ As he catches the poor old lady’s eyes/ Just for fun he says, ‘Get a job.’” The basic ideology underlying the comment, of course, is that if she would just get a job, her problems would be solved.
This may well have been the case in 1935 at the height of the Great Depression when my father was born — or even in 1950 following World War II. But today’s economic landscape is very different. According to the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness, as many as 40 to 60 percent of people experiencing homelessness are employed, as was I when I became homeless.
I still remember the timing very well — precisely when I was evicted — because it corresponded with seasonal lows in sales at my work in a retail store and, thus, with a cutback in hours. In December, during the Christmas rush, when my employer needed all the help they could get, I had been working not just fulltime but overtime for weeks on end. Then came January and the seasonal slump in
sales, and suddenly my hours were cut from 45 or 50 per week down to five with no warning.
I just opened the app on my phone with my new work schedule and saw that I was only down for five hours. At the same time, I had rent that was coming due in a couple of weeks. My income had just gone from $2,200 a month or more with overtime to something like $270. I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew that this was not the time of year to be looking for a job. No one in retail would be hiring then. At the same time, my boss was encouraging me to just “hang on,” explaining that this happened every year in their store and assuring me that the hours would go back up soon enough.
So, with what money I had saved from the overtime pay I made during the holidays, I managed to scrape up just enough to cover rent for February and March, which brought me to the end of my lease but also left me completely broke and behind on some of my other bills. In addition, my car had broken down, and I didn’t have the money to fix it, so I was without transportation.
All of this led me to choosing the path of re-signing a lease, despite the fact that my rent went up 55 percent, from $937 to $1,450. First, I didn’t have enough savings
left to use for deposits for another apartment. Secondly, what money I had coming in had to go to bills. And having no car, I was very limited in my ability to even go out and search for another apartment. Therefore, although it was against my better judgment, knowing I couldn’t afford it, I signed the lease.
Fortunately, hours did pick up a bit and my employer even began to hire new workers. Through a referral, I got my daughter on, and she began to work there as her first job, which increased our household income somewhat. Still, it just wasn’t enough. The $1,450 in rent along with other household bills was simply too steep for our incomes to cover.
The apartment complex wouldn’t allow for partial payment of rent, and the April rent went unpaid as did May. By June, fortunately my daughter was away in Savannah staying with her boyfriend who was finishing up the final semester of his master’s degree at Savannah College of Art and Design. I went to court alone and was evicted. By then I was back to working full-time, but it was too late.
Savita Vega is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
