This morning, we were on our way to day camp: me on foot, my daughter on a scooter. At the corner of rue Beaubien, an SUV makes a late stop, well over the stop line. Not to the point of worrying, but by reflex, I raise my arm and pronounce a “STOP” loud and clear while protecting my child. That’s all.
Posted at 11:30 a.m.
However, the reaction of the young lady was to honk our horn furiously, which threw my daughter off her scooter and me off my patience. The lady held her middle finger up at me as I tried to point out to her that she had just made a stop that would have screwed up any driving test.
It would have been so easy to apologize. I am a motorist too and I know that we are never perfect. But we know well when we stretch our privilege a little.
It seems to me that the only acceptable posture is to recognize that sitting in our cars, we are the strong who must also think of the weak: here, a child on a scooter.
We’ve been living in Rosemont for nearly a year and there isn’t a morning when I don’t clench my jaw as I approach the street corners where many are in such a hurry. Just around the corner from the school, the famous “American stops” multiply at the height of the start of the school year. On all groups of citizens, motorists complain about the proliferation of stop signs, but a very small percentage respects the crossings reserved for pedestrians.
This spring, I even noticed that many cyclists do not feel concerned by the presence of the crossing guards.
Every day I come home feeling like I’ve avoided obstacles, but very far from a sense of security.
As we know, sharing the road is a subject of great tension. But it seems to me that as long as we do not agree on the fact that our priority for all is to protect our children, there is little chance that we will get along between adults.
Children have the right to be outside! Slow down, make your stops, look everywhere. And don’t make children feel guilty for using the road; the public space also belongs to them.