These transportation inequalities affect the whole of American society, but they make things especially hard for school-aged kids.

“You and I can live on the same block and if you live a mile away from school, you get buses and texts and alerts, and if I live 0.9 miles away, I get no support,” says Balto. “When you see the inequalities around school transportation … I can never unsee it. We should be supporting families getting to school walking and biking on their own.” 

Another thing I’ve noticed is that a community that walks and bikes a lot tends to create a healthy, mixed-use, mixed-income neighborhood, like my own in Portland. My kids’ school may be a Title I school where the majority of the students experience child poverty, but it’s located smack in the middle of our downtown, next to the library and a block away from the post office. My family has lived here for 15 years, next to families who have lived here for generations. Like most of our neighbors, I am fiercely attached to my neighborhood, and my people. I want to make it better and safer for our kids—for all of us!—to get around.

Right after I said yes to starting a bike bus, though, I got scared. While I’m reasonably certain that I can keep my own two kids safe on the roads, I had recurring nightmares about someone else’s child swerving directly into the path of an oncoming Toyota Tundra. I solicited advice on Twitter and from friends on how to start. Here’s what I learned.

Find your why. I can talk up one wall and down the other about how biking to school is the best thing to do for your community, but truthfully, I would be doing it anyway simply because it brings me joy. “It’s the shit! It’s the best!” Balto said. Even when it’s cold and raining and dark, that time moving fast outside—with no expectations or obligations beyond listening to my 7-year-old talking about her craft projects and swinging her legs—is always the best part of my day.