Too many Americans live in places built for cars — not for human connection

I’ve lived in Houston for most of my life, and there’s never been a time when I’ve reasonably been able to walk anywhere. Houston is practically the poster child for American urban sprawl — the landscape is dominated by spread-out neighborhoods with single-family homes and massive “stroads” (street-road hybrids with the worst aspects of both) lined with strip malls and expansive parking lots, connected by miles and miles of highways. It’s an environment designed to be solely traversed by car, not by foot.

That had a dramatic effect on the friends I could make, especially when I was younger and based in the city’s outer suburbs. Both of my parents worked, and without a car, if I missed my school bus home, I’d have to make the one-and-a-half-hour trek by foot under the hot Texas sun — forget easily going to the mall or the movies with my classmates.

College was eye-opening. I attended Texas A&M University, and spent most of my time in a denser, walkable campus environment that made it easy to meet and get to know people. I could start my day going to classes, then move to a dining hall, then the green space in front of my department building, and finally, the library — all without a car. It was easy to bump into friends, old and new, intentionally and by accident.

But when I returned to Houston to start working, friendship became exhaustingly difficult, as the long commutes made it hard to consider going anywhere but straight home after work. Even now, living in the inner ring of the city — “inside the loop,” as Houstonians call it — if I want to visit anyone beyond my apartment complex, I have to get in my car. It has made it hard for me to regularly see friends and even family. My parents live at least a half-hour drive away without traffic. (For reference, Google Maps tells me it would take me roughly seven hours to get there on foot.)