Branding your 'hood--White Flint Edition

According to an article in Monday's Washington Post, White Flint is going to get a new name.  For readers outside the area, White Flint is wedged between Bethesda, a suburb that looks like a city, and Rockville, another suburb that looks like a city.  White Flint is flatter (fewer tall buildings) and less urban (more strip malls and parking lots).  But, it is ready for a make-over.  White Flint's main attraction--a 1980s era mall--was recently torn down, and the county hopes to redevelop the site and surrounding areas for greater density and walkability. 

So far so good.

Except for that 'pesky' name.  Apparently, 'White Flint' doesn't evoke much beyond the mall of the same name they recently tore down.  If the area's going to change, its name needs to capture those changes.  Or so say the developers.      

I get it.  I grew up in a neighborhood called Sherwood Forest and my friends lived in developments called Wildwood and Rainbow Forest.  The goal of the developers who built our neighborhoods was to sell the houses in them, and one way to do that was by giving their wider neighborhoods sylvan, vaguely British sounding names.  I say vaguely because I doubt my neighborhood's developer wanted to encourage any real Robin Hood behavior.  My sister, friends and I were as close to a merry band as it got, and the most we took from our neighbors was a little peace and quiet on Saturday mornings.    

In White Flint's case, the name game has higher stakes.  As one developer explained in the Washington Post article, the area needs a new brand to communicate the urban transformation afoot in the area.  

Poor White Flint.  I can see the session with the life coach/therapist now. 

White Flint:  I tore down my Mall!  I'm really making progress!
Life Coach:  Well, none of that matters until you've got a twitter handle to sell it to the people.
White Flint:  How about '#I Tore down my mall!'
Life Coach:  Too negative.  We need something that evokes who you are.
White Flint:  But, I'm White Flint.  Didn't you see my insurance card?
Life Coach:  It isn't about you, its about who people think you are.
White Flint:  I'm White Flint, dammit!
Life Coach:  We're going to have to start meeting twice a week. 

Developers are currently bandying about several possible names, including Pike Corridor, Pike District, Market District, and Slate District. 

Perhaps sensing a lack of inspiration, the County also has a website where you can offer your own new name. 

Here are my suggestions: 

1.  It's always Marsha Marsha Marsha!

2.  Say my name *#%$!

3.  NO, I am NOT trying too hard.

On second thought, how about White Flint?!

 

Suburbs and Sidewalks

Ben Adler has an interesting piece on Grist about the new Safe Streets Act, a bill just proposed by Senators Mark Begich (D-Alaska) and Brian Schatz (D-Hawaii).

The legislation would require that all federally-funded transportation projects incorporate so called Complete Street Principles--the catch phrase for making sure streets take into account a variety of users, including pedestrians, bikers (Schwinn and Harley I presume), public transit, etc. There would be exceptions of course (no one is going to start requiring bike lanes on the interstate!). 

The Complete Streets idea is great, and it isn't just for gentrifying cities.  In fact, Adler points out that the bill's co-sponsors hail from Alaska and Hawaii--states not generally regarded as urban hotspots.  Urban or not, these states still have lots of people who need to walk.  Hawaii is a big retirement destination, and many elderly people can no longer drive.  Likewise, suburban and rural kids still have to walk to school (or the nearest bus stop).  Many walk on the shoulders of busy roads--trips that become more dangerous in winter when daylight comes after school starts and ploughed snow covers usual routes.   

All of this got me thinking about my own neighborhood's walkability.   In many ways my neighborhood is a study in contradictions.  From my house I can walk to a grocery store, a pub, several sandwich shops, a bakery, a coffee shop, a vet, and even a palm reader (suburbanites worry about their future too I guess!).  But, my journey to any of these places requires navigating a wide mix of walk environments. 

The main streets in my neighborhood have sidewalks, but my side street does not.  University Boulevard and Colesville Road also have sidewalks, but crossing either street is difficult.  The crosswalks are few and far between, and crossing between them is a little like running with the bulls in Spain.  You never know what sort of lumbering behemoth of an SUV will come charging your way--walk sign on or not.  

So, what could make my neighborhood more walkable?  Well, the first thing they could do is put in more sidewalks inside the residential parts of the neighborhood.  I don't even think doing so would be that difficult.  One of the first things I noticed when I moved here was that it looked like the lots were designed to have sidewalks out front.  Most of the houses sit on terraces, with a gentle slope down to a flat space in front that looks tailor made for sidewalks.  Here's a picture of one of these flat spaces.  Under all that snow is grass, but the spacing of trees and stair rails suggest a sidewalk was supposed to go here at some point.  
 

Here's another photo from my street.  You can see the same gentle slope down to a sidewalk like area.  Alas, no sidewalk, just grass (or in this case, snow on top of the grass).  

Sidewalks would not only make the street 'cuter,' they would provide a place for people to walk their dogs, play with their kids, and hang out.  And, best of all, the neighborhood wouldn't have to be retrofitted to put them in.  The space is there, waiting for walkers like you and me!