How Wooden Benches Breathed Life Back Into an Emaciated Transit System

 

A bus bench built by grassroots organization Abundance Denton. (Source: Twitter/@AbudnanceDenton.)

Less than a year ago, Denton, Texas, resident Kristine Bray came across a video of the Chattanooga Urbanist Society installing benches at bus stops on TikTok, and thought, “This is really neat. I'd like to see this happen here.” A few months later, they founded Abundance Denton, and soon after that at daybreak, Bray and roughly a dozen Dentonites dropped benches across the city’s bus stops.

Denton’s deteriorating bus network has been a primary focus for the group. Bray witnessed the system shrink from 11 to three lines in a handful of years and they in part blame private micro-transit company, GoZone, for crippling what was already a poorly performing system.

GoZone entered Denton promising efficiency but its local reputation suggests it delivered the opposite. By the company’s own metrics, it is the one of the least efficient and costliest ways of getting around the city. “Luckily for us, everybody hates GoZone,” Bray chuckled. “It’s hard to get everybody on board with issues like zoning, but it’s undeniable that the bus system is emaciated and that GoZone only made getting around Denton worse.”

Abundance Denton seized the public’s appetite for better transit and began strategizing what they could do to ameliorate the experience of taking the bus. “Some other groups were thinking of staging protests [against GoZone], but we wanted to get attention for issues we cared about by doing something beneficial, something to actually address the problems we were talking about,” Bray shared. “And so, dropping benches at bus stops was a good way to do that.”

Nobody in the group had ever tried building benches before, but they worked off of their mix of adjacent skills: Sage designed the benches, Peter donated power tools as well as carpentry experience, others offered refreshments, and some were tasked with ensuring everyone took breaks at regular intervals.

“The good thing about this kind of project is that there is a job for literally everyone no matter your skill level or level of ability,” Sage explained. “You know, because anyone can volunteer to pass out water or hold things in place or film.”

Over the course of an April weekend as full of food, music, and fun as it was of carpentry, the group built several benches out of recycled pallets to be dropped at bus stops across the city. Soon after, the local news took notice, as did city officials.

“It was front page news,” Bray said. “And then I got a call from the city manager asking if I can come in before the next council meeting.” 

They agreed, expecting the worst, only to learn that the city applauded her efforts. “This is good. You can’t do it, but we like it. We won’t remove the benches, but you can’t do this again,” Bray relayed, adding that the city even converted some of their benches into permanent seating at select bus stops.

Abundance Denton, however, is planning on dropping more benches, this time with cooperation from private establishments adjacent to existing bus stops. “One of the potential candidates for a bus bench is this stop right in front of a Walgreens along one of our urban highways,” Bray said. The intersection of a state road, city sidewalk, and private business would be an obstacle for some but for Abundance Denton, it’s an opportunity. “We want to approach Walgreens and say, ‘You have this strip of greenspace between your parking lot and the official municipal and state right-of-ways: could we put a bench there for your customers?’” Bray said.

Abundance Denton’s bus advocacy doesn’t end at building benches. Members of the group have been inviting elected officials to experience the hostility of the bus system in the way many of their constituents do daily. This has involved walking to bus stops located within highway clear zones, enduring 40-minute headways, and weathering some of the city’s arguably more convoluted, and therefore slower, routes. 

“Getting city councilors to ride our buses has definitely made these issues more real to them,” one member shared.

Moreover, in less than six months of advocacy, Abundance Denton has generated buzz. “Our city councilors have this annual retreat, and this year, we learned that our name just kept coming up.” 

Liam Gaume, a member and Urban Policy and Planning graduate, ascribes their leverage not only to the group’s consistency but its willingness to build a relationship, rather than antagonize. “Of course, you can say, ‘I want this now,’ and pressure electeds to make it happen without any context of how to get there,” Gaume said. “But building lasting relationships will actually get you the political power to see those projects through.”

He also underscored the importance of simply showing up and allowing yourself to be seen in public hearings, community board meetings, and so on. “People will notice when a new person shows up and more importantly, they’ll remember you.”

As for sustaining momentum amidst endless uphill battles and multi-year municipal timelines, the group had this advice: “Whatever it is you plan to do, you need to be passionate about it.” 

“It also helps to make it fun,” Sage added. Abundance Denton always makes sure to decompress after tedious public meetings. 

The group is currently designing and debuting bus benches—most recently aboard a float during Denton’s Juneteenth festivities—and is otherwise setting the stage to shift the conversation around zoning and parking minimums in the city they call home.

You can follow Abundance Denton’s activities by following them on Twitter, TikTok, or visiting their website.