I didn’t die

The past two days, I’ve stood at the entrance to my housing estate (Mayorstone, Limerick), and I didn’t die of social judgement.

At 07:40 on the first day, my limbs were trembling.

Parents walking their kids to the school. That’s me on the road, talking with the person who drove their car onto the footpath. I prefer to call it the carriageway on our street. I don’t like highviz jackets, but I wore it for this.

I skipped the coffee I would normally have. Because at 8am I was to walk out and place little orange cones along the footpath. In fairness to my six year old, he showed my what courage was:

I didn’t die. I’m still here. I’ll call that my first day of “direct action”. I wasn’t alone, a generous neighbour also came out for the first session, and again the second morning. Another neighbour came out the next lunch time.

I’ll explain another time why I felt the need and value of standing there, during two drop off times and two pick up times.

For now, all I’ll say is that footpaths are for humans, not for 500kg masses of plastic.

This is all we’re asking for, to not mount the footpath with a massive piece of transportation:

#StreetsAreForPeople #CosaArCosáin