When Frank Lloyd Wright designed a home, he was very intentional about the placement of the front door. Wright believed the home was private, and to protect that privacy, the front door was often placed off to the side, hidden by walls or even put in the backyard.
This almost seems like the philosophy behind the design of the Batavia Public Library. When approaching the first block of South Batavia Avenue on foot, many areas look like they could (or should) be an entrance, but alas, the front door is only revealed in an obvious way when arriving by car.
Libraries are public entities that should exemplify accessibility as a tenant of their mission. Instead, our library is a physical embodiment of the tension between urban and suburban priorities. Urban density is all about maximizing the productivity of the most valuable land. Suburbia is about giant parking lots. Despite the fact the library is at the flagstone intersection of a state highway and our only east-west arterial, the library has taken over the entire city block and is only 40% building.
Despite this negative critique, we do love our library. It is an absolute community gem with great social value that we frequent for our research, social and coffee needs. But by other measures (Leslie Knope would back us up on this) our library is also a fail. An entire city block. In the center of town. Very poor accessibility to the public and no connectivity to the surrounding businesses. Zero tax revenue to the city.
If someone is on foot and traveling to the library from the east (as half our population is likely to do given the library’s central location) there are a couple of route options. They involve a hike up a hill and possibly some stairs, or both. This is not an ideal scenario for many segments of our population.
Let's consider Elaine's path to the library.
Elaine lives at Riverrain Point Apartments. As the crow flies, it is 1,658 feet or .3 miles away from the library. The drive, according to Google, is .6 miles. Elaine is active, and with the help of her walker, is apt to buzz around town on foot. The library, however, is a challenge for her. The most direct route involves two sets of stairs. There is a ramp from Wilson, but it only goes to the garden in the back. Then, the options are a set of stairs, or to walk through the parking lot and around the bend (without the security of dedicated pedestrian paths.)
Therefore, the best option for many is to head up Wilson, down the busy stretch of Batavia Avenue, and back toward the front door. But that is too much for some people. Elaine usually gets a ride to the library (she doesn't drive.) One of our most community oriented public spaces is not accessible to some who lives less than half a mile away, unless a car can be used.
A crow gets there in .3 miles. A fully able body person, .6 miles (with stairs).
The additional .3 miles may sound insignificant. If it does, you are probably an able-bodied person (or a crow.)
Perhaps there are simple solutions. A back door would eliminate the need for stairs. A side door would make the library look inviting from Wilson Street (where most of our downtown travelers end up). The doors exist, but only as emergency exits right now. The complex solution is undoing seven decades of development priorities. Pre-World War II, infrastructure was designed around a low auto ownership rates, and one could easily navigate daily destinations by walking or using mass transit. We have designed ourselves into a non-friendly environment for public transportation or walking. These values developed and strengthened in a time when resources were abundant, land was cheap, and air quality was of no concern. Changing public understanding and challenging these values will be necessary to undo dispersed development and is perhaps one of the greatest challenges to environmentalists and wellness advocates.
Older cities like ours are also land locked, so we need to be looking at how efficiently we use our most valuable land from a financial stand point as well.
The built environment is a reflection of these and many other social forces and serves to also shape people’s culture and values. As Frank and Engelke (2005) write, “the placement of buildings, streets, and other elements of the built environment can have powerful psychological consequences for residents of a city or town, not only by shaping people’s sense of social isolation and connection to others, their sense of safety, and their sense of connectedness to nature.” Our behaviors are shaped by the structure we deemed most appropriate to serve our habits, and design decisions are often made able-bodied individuals that can afford a personal automobile.
The front door is more than an entry point. The front door is the first impression. From the inside looking out, we can make judgements on who the intended visitors are. The front door represents the priorities of a building and its purpose, and the purpose is shaped by the people who enter. If the only people that enter are those who can afford, financially or physically, to enter from an automobile, how does that reflect on the community that funds that building?
