What alternatives do Americans have to driving everywhere for even the most menial of tasks: getting a hair cut, taking the kids to school, grocery shopping. The most obvious betrayal of our vehicles is the daily commute to work.

For those who have always driven, you cannot know the freedom of not driving without experiencing it first-hand. We grow up in this world being told how to live in it, and so we don’t always question the fundamentals to truly understand them. The best I can do today to encourage you to taste the freedom of not driving is to share my experience.

I bike 30 minutes to the train station in the morning, hop on the train for 15 minutes, and then take a bus for 20 minutes. I repeat the process in reverse on the way home. In comparison to driving, I spend 10-15 minutes more commuting when I take public transit. But here’s what I gain instead:

1. An hour of exercise each day without the gym membership.

2. At least 40 minutes of my commute is spent working remotely: finishing up a few lines of code, going through emails, reporting my time on projects.

3. I meet new people everyday, most of which just stay acquaintances, but some have become friends: Kendall, Nick, Dustin, and others.

4. More time spent with my family. Because I work while traveling home, I get home sooner than if I leave work at five and wade through an hour of traffic.

5. Improved energy throughout the day and I’m not burned out when I get home. Biking in the morning and evening actually recharges me.

6. My employer pays for my commute instead of me.

So, give it try. You will undoubtedly find things you hate about public transit. Maybe it’s not even an option for you. You may be like me and, despite losing the convenience of a car, you find the conveniences of a lifestyle you’ve been missing.

Whatever boat you’re in, it suits us all to try to make life better and easier for each other. If your neighbor prefers public transit but you prefer to drive, look out for each other. After all, one more person on the bus means one less car to congest your commute.

Let us remember that the true American Dream, “…is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position.” Let us now return to that dream and shed our gluttonous, consumer addictions for a more united and free land, full of renewed self-worth, and human connection.

I ran across a comment on an instagram reel by Diane Alisa about parenting in suburbia and felt it needed a more thorough response — not a never-ending instagram conversation where every talks past each other. Here’s the comment, which since was deleted by the author:

I’m not sure what you want here? Like from society? You did choose to have a baby. What do you want the general public to do? Be the village? Not everyone wants children. They actively decided against that and shouldn’t be forced to help or “be kind” when they’re stuck in a plane with a screaming child/baby the mother/father is ignoring. Or are you asking for government help with child care? I’m sure you’ll say grave but how much grace can one give when stuck in a loud disruptive environment with a child that’s not theirs?

This commenter is not alone in their thoughts. In today’s world, people are often placed in situations where they are expected to accommodate children without necessarily feeling any communal connection to them. That can be frustrating, especially in settings like a plane where personal comfort is limited.

But let’s take a step back—why do these situations feel so adversarial in the first place? Historically, American communities were built around a village-like structure where multiple generations coexisted in shared spaces, and interdependence was the norm rather than the exception. Parents weren’t raising kids in isolation, and people without children weren’t expected to engage with them in disruptive, forced ways because there were natural structures in place that allowed for both balance and distance.

The suburban experiment—one that prioritizes car dependency, isolation, and rigid nuclear family living—has made parenting much harder than it needs to be. It forces parents to rely almost entirely on themselves, with limited access to walkable public spaces, extended family, or a support network. At the same time, people who don’t have kids end up in situations where they’re expected to tolerate children in awkward, poorly designed environments (like planes, instead of, say, public squares, parks, or communal transit hubs that are built with families in mind).

When we talk about "bringing back the village," it's not about forcing people to help raise kids—it’s about designing communities that naturally foster connection, shared public resources, and a greater sense of balance. Walkable, human-scaled neighborhoods with shared green spaces, local businesses, and accessible public transit make it easier for parents to be present and engaged with their children while also preventing situations where non-parents feel unfairly burdened.

Ultimately, ending car dependency and restoring community-centered living isn’t just about helping parents; it’s about making life more enjoyable for everyone. It reduces stress, increases social trust, and allows people to interact in ways that feel organic rather than obligatory. If we want to live in a world where people don’t feel trapped with screaming kids in spaces that weren’t designed for families, we need to rethink the way we build our communities in the first place.