It was late September 2001 in New York City, ground zero. I will never forget that smell, full of acidic ashes from hell, still burning after weeks. It was the smell of death, as nearly 3,000 bodies burned. I left in a daze, my identity forever changed from the realization of geopolitical madness, economic insanity, and corporate greed that were precursors of this tragedy.
The next few years guided my escape to foreign lands where I had no identity, no culture, no self, eventually suffering severe sickness from years of pollution and toxicity exposure in mega-cities of the Far East.
Fast forward to Spring 2016, and here I am, an adult returning to University to recover, on a Bicycle. The last faint memory of driving a car was over ten years ago, replaced by subways, bullet trains, taxis, and now the culmination of an era, a Bicycle. More than just a bike, mine is an electric, state of the art, clean and pollution-free ride. It is my silent weapon, slow and unobtrusive, confidently integrating my true self into this two-wheeled green dragon.
I am proud of my bike, and have quite the disdain for the combustion engine, and the repugnant cancerous fumes it spews. Yes, my identity is heavily invested in my eco-friendly machine. My world revolves around the slow lane. While cars blindly speed by, I ride, and define my identity, social status, community, and mission through this bike. My zero carbon mission is clear: make it through another winter, and another ten years, without a car…