For many years, my children attended James Simons Montessori, a public school in downtown Charleston. My husband often said that his favorite part of the day was walking our children to school. Not only did the walk mean more time with his daughters, but he also really enjoyed the community vibe at the “walker gate.”
The walker gate is where people arriving any way other than a vehicle enter school. Picture this: young children wobbling on balance bikes, confident kindergarteners plowing past on scooters, older kids back-pedaling on mountain bikes and parents pushing strollers with one hand and sipping coffee from a tumbler with the other. The whole morning felt wonderfully like Sesame Street. Except for the cars.
There is another entry point for the school for those who arrive by car.Yet a handful of car commuters repeatedly dropped their kids off at the walker gate. I understand why: the car-rider line takes longer. It’s a one lane, one-way loop. By breaking the rules, a parent can shave off a few minutes each morning by pulling up to the walker gate. And when they did, drop off was a breeze!
But these drivers were inadvertently putting the parents and children who use the walker gate at risk. People on the street who are not inside cars are vulnerable road users. They are not protected by the metal body of the car. It’s a deadly situation, and it’s a real problem where we live. Did you know that Charleston is the 12th deadliest metro area for pedestrians in the country?
I reached out to school officials, who promptly reminded the community of its car-rider policy in an email. As you can imagine, the email had little effect. Soon, the school police was stationed at the walker gate every morning. Finally! A win!
But those same drivers were still whipping by, all while the school police officer sat in his car. I was fuming. I wanted to knock on his window and tell him to ticket the offender.
But here’s the dilemma: this is my community, too. Some of those repeat offenders were acquaintances, even friends. As much as I care about safety, I also care about keeping the peace.
And maybe that’s the crux of all of this: socially, cars are accepted as the norm. I am asking my community to go against a cultural norm. That creates social friction. I hate social friction. So, I shrugged, told myself I tried my best, and moved on.
The following year, our younger daughter followed our older one, moving from James Simons to Buist Academy, a countywide magnet located on Calhoun Street in downtown Charleston.
I was now driving a carpool. Each child in the carpool owned a bike and was able-bodied and their school was only two miles from our homes, but we carpooled because sending them off on two wheels to battlefield the Charleston traffic felt like child abuse. It was just too dangerous.
I’ll never forget the first morning last year when it was my turn to drive carpool. While waiting at the intersection of Rutledge Avenue and Moultrie Street (where the James Simons walker gate is), I saw that the entire street to the walker gate at James Simons had been blocked off.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Children zoomed on scooters, cutting figure eights with their friends. Parents tossed their heads back in laughter, at ease knowing they didn’t have to watch their children at every second so as to prevent them from being flattened by a car. I was looking at a small sliver of paradise. It was even better than Sesame Street.
I do not know what the school did to take back that street for walkers, the bikers, the kids on scooters and the babies in the strollers, but it took guts.
But now, since my children both lost their seats at Buist (a magnet school) to come with me to Ghent, we will return to James Simons in January 2027.
It will be an honor.
Charleston author Gervais Hagerty has been in Belgium in recent months as a Fulbright Scholar. She’s studying how one city has been working to make safer streets. Read a fuller version on her substack at gervaishagerty.substack.com/
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