A Middle Kind of View: Michigan Winter Roads

Editor’s Note: “A Middle Kind of View” is a Flintside bi-weekly column series by University of Michigan–Flint student and Flint native, Amina Smith.

FLINT, Michigan — Dear Flint…It’s been fun, was my exact thought last Saturday as I sat in my car, sun shining, snow falling, hazard lights blinking, and cars blowing by while narrowly missing me from my then position stuck in the middle of Chavez and Robert T. Longway on a road of ice thick enough to completely conceal the color of the once black concrete underneath me. 

And dear reader…I feel as though it is important to inform you that this column was close to going from bi-weekly entry to final posthumous publications as I sat on that road brainstorming what I would have wanted my last words as a writer to be.

You see, as many of us are aware by now, we are allegedly experiencing what most news broadcasts and government officials are calling a “harsh winter.” 

But let’s be real here, as Michiganders, “Don’t y’all say this every year?” was another fleeting thought I had when reading a weather report on my phone a few weeks ago, while sitting by the living room window and looking out at the still somewhat verdant grass outside. 

Yet, after witnessing the heavier-than-usual snowfalls and frigid slicing winds, it wasn’t until an unfortunate morning when I looked out my window, and surveyed the unnaturally Day After Tomorrow-ish thick piles of snow in my yard that I thought to myself, “Yeah, this weather they banished the abominable snow to in Monsters Inc.” But unlike the whimsical and comedic children’s movie, there is no magical door that I can open and step into a tropical realm where the word cold has never been uttered. 

Instead, as a young adult who, as Tommy Pickles put it, has “Sponsibilities,” I unfortunately live in the harsh reality of, especially as a Michigander, that a little snow ain’t stopping nothing. 

However, as of last week, I couldn’t help but wonder, where are these highways and byways here in Flint? Because to the naked eye, I can’t seem them! And no, one-way paths that we create and follow each other through, like perfect little ducks, don’t count. 

Moreover, I found myself quite frustrated with the current condition of the roads here in Flint as I tried to continue with my day’s agenda and errands, constantly playing everyone’s favorite winter game: find the street lines. 

However, as I used Saginaw Street as my desired way of transportation, I decided to play another game on my journey. A simple game of how many salt trucks could I count between the length of where I started at my residence on the north side of Flint and where I’d end up around the Grand Blanc area.

After almost a forty-minute drive, flutters of snow, and a drastic change in road conditions once certain area codes switched, I counted what looked to be three civilian trucks with salt canisters strapped to their beds, but unfortunately, not a single city truck.

Whereas, when I crossed into the Burton area, I saw two City of Burton salt trucks. And then, as I continued toward my destination in Grand Blanc on its seemingly perfectly plowed and salted roads, I concluded that these conditions had to be the result of at least the four City of Grand Blanc salt trucks that I saw charging through the streets. 

But as I eventually ended my journey and stopped to take a moment amongst the little bit of chaos surrounding my destination, I found myself genuinely perplexed, but unfortunately not surprised, by the disparities I saw between the three cities and the visibility of their taxpayers’ dollars at work. 

While I mentioned that I saw a number of trucks striving to rectify and upkeep the busy main channel street, it both warmed and saddened my heart to know that fellow Flint Residents have taken the initiative to fill a gap within the community that genuinely shouldn’t be there in the first place. 

A gap so big that it has hugely impacted our communities, even in the most minuscule places like back roads and side streets, often forgotten and neglected until someone in the neighborhood gears up to help thy neighbor.

And while some may try to take today’s column as a slight or a diss toward the inner workings of the city, it is not.

Instead, I encourage everyone to take it as a healthy question of accountability for the city, while also acting as an ember that ignites a stronger sense of pride and concern for the well-being of the already somewhat dilapidated roads and the safety of our citizens. 

And out there, I am sure others feel the same way. That every time we step foot out of the house and onto the roads, there should not be a fear for our safety or our fellow members of the community.