Sometimes I just want to sit on a real bench, in the middle of a real park, in the city I love, and soak it all in. by Megan Seling The Pacific Northwest is undoubtedly beautiful, and Seattle has no shortage of public parks that dou ble as nature-loving reprieves from the city’s crowds and noise. Discovery Park, Lincoln Park, Carkeek Park, Seward Park, they’re all full of winding, wooded trails beneath hundreds, even thousands of trees, with wide-open, grassy playing fields and access to the shores of Lake Washington or Puget Sound, where it’s not rare to spot seals playing or a pod of orcas on the hunt. It’s fucking magical!  What Seattle doesn’t have, though, are city parks. Parks where there’s no hiking, no trail biking, no whale watching—just a place to rest, to read, to people watch on a comfortable bench amid the city’s vibrancy.  Have you seen the public parks in Mexico City and Oaxaca? Their parks are phenomenal. They’re not huge, but they’re entire worlds, tucked into city blocks, among all the commotion. They’re full of beautiful brickwork, stone fountains, and public art. Paved paths are lined with shrubs, flowers, and new and old trees that provide shade to joggers getting in their daily laps or people strolling with their dogs. There are play areas for kids, and a few pieces of utilitarian but well-maintained exercise equipment for adults. And sitting is welcome! Iron benches are plentiful and bolted down—they can’t be locked up at closing time because the parks do not close. Instead, there is lighting throughout, and everything is usable long after sunset. These spaces are so accommodating and accessible that generations of people have built their daily routines around them—enthusiastic instructors host Zumba classes, teens take dance lessons, and small marching bands practice their routines on the regular. Food carts and other mobile retailers are allowed to set up shop at all hours, only adding to the energizing activity and convenience. They’re the ultimate example of if you build it, they will come… to move, to eat, to work, to unwind right there in the middle of the city. Seattle’s parks do not compare. Of course, attempts have been made. I’ve spent hours people-watching at Cal Anderson Park on my way home from work. I’ve seen people face off over the oversized chessboards in Occidental Park, and watched players get entertainingly competitive at the ping-pong tables in Hing Hay Park after grabbing some coffee and a Crunchy Cream Malasada from Fuji Bakery. I’ve also noticed the city’s half-hearted effort to establish little pop-up parks by placing a smattering of tables and chairs in places like Westlake Park, Belltown, and South Lake Union, but those are all temporary. Flimsy and foldable. I’ve had tables and chairs pulled out from underneath me by a park’s employee mid-bite, in some cases, after daring to linger a little too close to sunset. (True story! At least let me finish my Pastry Project sundae next time, guy!) Instead of building up public spaces and investing in making them usable, enjoyable, even, with permanent seating and garbage cans and public bathrooms, our leadership has been shutting them down, too focused on eliminating any and all public areas where a person might dare try to loiter or rest. Months ago, three inner-city parks—Seven Hills Park, Lake City Mini Park, and the pavilion at Dr. Blanche Lavizzo Park, which has been host to Seattle’s fun and colorful Mexican Guelaguetza celebration for several years—were temporarily closed for the remainder of the year. Oh, are people not using them as you intended, Seattle? Maybe that’s because the city has swept through every public space, eliminating seating, picnic tables, trash cans, and access to public restrooms (see related complaint here).  This isn’t a population problem. People are not the enemy. There are more than four million people living in Oaxaca, and more than nine million in Mexico City proper, and those major cities are still capable of building and maintaining these beautiful, bustling little parks, public (and free!) third places for people to come, alone or together.  Please. Katie Wilson, St. Rat’s bestie Alexis Mercedes Rinck, and anyone else who has the keys to the park palace, please, please invest in our inner-city public spaces. Don’t try to erase them. I want to be able to grab a coffee, wander a few blocks, and just sit and watch the city unfold in front of me. I want to quietly judge people for what they’re wearing and make eye contact with strangers’ dogs as they walk by. I want to sit and watch kids fall over while learning how to ride their bikes, because kids falling down is funny. I love that we have so many ways to escape the city’s madness. But I don’t always want to hike or keep track of when a park might close down. Sometimes I just want to sit on a real bench, in the middle of a real park, in the city I love, and soak it all in. ...read more read less