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New DIY bike shop in Oxford

January 22, 2013 Fixing bikes, Women No comments

It’s been a long time comin’ but the doors of Oxford’s newest community bike workshop are soon to open.

The Broken Spoke Bike Coop has been a labour of love for the past 9 months and we’ve definitely got to know our city in that time by organising nomadic bike workshops and maintenance courses. But on Feb 1 we launch our new permanent space right in the heart of the city with more tools and spares than you can shake a stick at. It will be a home for cyclists, bike lovers, creatives, mechanics, environmentalists and everyone who ever wanted to just want to just grab a spanner and have a go. There will be maintenance courses and open workshops galore; our ever popular women and transgender evening Beryls’ Night will relocate to the new gaff; and of course there will be copious amounts of tea and biscuits. So do pop in and say hello if you happen to be biking past.

Guest Post Anxiety and Bike Mechanics

November 28, 2012 Fixing bikes, General, Women No comments

I was an urban rider from age 23-26 in Minneapolis, MN where I was born and raised. I was working in my field of passion for a social service non-profit after having graduated with a Business Communications degree. My job was to empower low income women with independent living skills. Despite the love of my job, I increasingly grew dissatisfied with the state of my country, and the world. This dissatisfaction grew so large another radical friend and I decided to quit our jobs, take a train to Portland and bike south. That was the extent of our plan. We saved and bought gear over the next two months for the tour. Depending on what part of the world you live in this may or may not seem radical, but where we’re from, people don’t do stuff like this. My friend and I had never biked over 10 miles, and neither of us were especially camping savvy, however we were determined. A bike shop proprietor in Minneapolis who found it just as important to mentor community members, as to sell bikes let us volunteer in exchange for sweet custom bikes and a few important lessons in bike mechanics.
Two months after arriving in Portland by train, we landed in San Francisco. We had seen many things, met many people and most importantly learned much about ourselves. I’d never felt so free. The loose plan was to bike to Mexico, however my friend and I decided after two months of being inextricably linked on our bikes it was time to part ways. She hitchhiked the rest of the way down the coast, and I was chillin’ in San Francisco with nowhere concrete to sleep, the loss of having just broken up with a partner, but also the feeling I could accomplish anything. I called a friend I had made chatting with at San Francisco’s prominent bicycle co-op when I had been fixing my bike. I informed him I was staying in San Francisco to try and establish myself by getting a job, apartment, etc. He invited me to start volunteering at the co-op as a Greeter.
I quickly became ingrained in the cycling community of San Francisco through the co-op, as most of my friends arose from this network. After 3 months of volunteering, I was eligible to become a staff member. The remarkable sheen the bike tour waxed over my life view had not worn off, and I was still excited about everything including learning more about bicycle mechanics. Most would say I am a very independent woman, and with this comes a strong desire to empower myself with skills. I followed the official procedure and posted to the listserv I had fulfilled the requirements needed to apply for staff, and that I would like the vetting process to start. This was an opportunity for staff members to vouch for me which would lead to staff status, but also for any objections. I received enthusiastic thumbs up from a handful of people, but one of the 4 female staff members raised opposition to my staff status saying it promoted the wrong message having a greeter (versus a mechanic) who was female. People spoke up on my behalf, and one of the counter arguments was I had a desire to learn mechanics, which was true.
1.5 years later and I still had a very small working knowledge of bicycle mechanics. I still feel awful not fulfilling the promise to the co-op, but ultimately to myself. I’d started work at a bike shop, but ultimately quit because at the time I felt like I didn’t have enough base knowledge of mechanics. I’d learned enough to get by in the bike world, and to be a great greeter at the co-op, but this desire to be skillful in an area that would afford me independence with my cycling lifestyle was not fulfilled. You’re probably wondering WHY I wouldn’t just learn the mechanic skills.
I experienced performance anxiety so high it was debilitating. I couldn’t concentrate on what someone was explaining to me, and when I did try to perform some repair my mind and body was so clouded by anxiety I just couldn’t do it right. The anxiety was exacerbated by the fear this would happen again when I tried the next time. Most would call me above average intelligent, athletic and sociable. The reason for this was I hid my anxiety well by avoiding situations, ie. learning mechanics, where I knew the fear would creep into my performance.
This anxiety and fear has plagued me since I was a teen, it still does. Every day I push myself trying to overcome it – I’ve tried everything from therapy, drugs, forcing myself into uncomfortable situations, and striving for holistic health. It affected me less after the West coast bike tour because I felt fulfilled, and truly free and happy. Other than that experience though, the deviation in levels of anxiety has been negligible. When I agreed to do this guest post, I knew this anxiety arose from my relationship with my father, but I didn’t know why. I wanted to challenge myself to understand why, and use this as a cathartic means to work through these fears that prevent me from being as empowered, happy, and skillful as I could be. It’s exhausting to have a constant defense mechanism to hide a part of yourself, but unfortunately the fear of humiliation, a symptom of anxiety, instills in me a stronger desire to keep hiding rather than let the fortress come down.
Having dug deep, I’m starting to make the connection between the relationship with my father and this anxiety. I love my dad very much, and that is why the hurt he’s caused me runs so deep. My father (and mother) afforded me a very comfortable middle class lifestyle, a partially paid college education, and a home free of physical and emotional violence. However, despite having lived with him for more than 18 years I have no clue who my father is. He is very closed off emotionally. We have a pattern that has been played out hundreds of times throughout my lifetime, up until the very present. I want something from my father – be it a resource or support for my decisions in life, however if he doesn’t agree with it he won’t even give me an inch. His coldness in delivering this message causes me to get emotional. I then see my emotions push him even further away. It hurts even more because my emotions are a signal to him that it’s ok to be vulnerable and to open up, but he doesn’t so I end up being the only hurt one. The coldness and disapproving nature increases, and at this point I give all my power away because all I want from him is love and support and I am completely vulnerable, but he won’t give it to me. We eventually come to some sort of conclusion, as we are a family that desires to appear reasonable. I think to myself I will never allow myself to be vulnerable again, because it always ends in powerlessness and hurt. Unfortunately, I can’t follow through with this because I desire approval from this person I am connected to in one of the most intimate ways – we are a direct product of the fabric of our parents. We are linked in such a powerful way and so this drama repeats. I realize my anxiety rears up when I feel vulnerable. It’s my bodies way of trying to protect me after such a damaging footprint has been established after 28 years of being hurt when I make myself vulnerable. To learn something new, you have to open yourself up immensely – take a risk at failing or looking stupid. The anxiety prevents me from taking this risk, but in some cases especially learning new skills the risk is worth it however my body hasn’t learned this yet.
I know many of my friends in the bike community in San Francisco couldn’t make sense of why this outspoken, independent strong woman wouldn’t learn mechanics. It didn’t connect in their mind, nor mine. Writing this article was a big step for me in testing the waters of vulnerability. I hope I will be able to report back to you in due time I’ve been able to work through some of this and do myself justice by allowing myself to be empowered with skills that complement the lifestyle I love in cycling.
Brought to you by bikesnbits

Freewheelers Bicycle Workshop – A co-op run by women!

July 12, 2012 Fixing bikes, Pictures, Tips and advice, Women No comments

We opened Freewheelers Bicycle Workshop back in October 2011. Our project is run by women and our aim is to be a friendly, approachable, not intimidating bike space for the community.

We run a tool club where people can come once a week (Wednesday evenings) and use our workshop, tools, books and get support from us to repair their own bicycles. The tool club is run on a voluntary basis and so members only have to pay only £10/£15 to become members for a year. We’re also a workers co-operative hoping to raise enough money to give a decent wage to the three of us. To that end we run a repairs service, sell parts and accessories, deliver maintenance workshops, offer Dr. Bike services and soon will offer Bikeability – with a focus on empowering adult women to feel confident and assertive on the roads. We run women-only maintenance courses and tool club sessions for all those who identify as women. We find that cycling is often a very male dominated activity, not only in numbers (more men than women cycle), but also in attitudes. Too often it seems you have to be aggressive, over assertive and over confident to ride your bike. We find that this affects both women and men and whilst offering women-only specific activities, we hope to be friendly and approachable so that men that don’t conform to the male cyclist stereotype, and that may not have experience with mechanics or might also feel unconfident welcomed in our space.

So far our experience has been very positive. We’ve had more and more people interested in our space and even though numbers are not quite adding up yet to pay ourselves a salary, we feel we’re on the right track! The best bits are the interaction with people, seeing how excited people get when they start seeing the bicycle as being made of different parts and how you can learn to take care of it. Even discovering how hard tyres inflated to the right pressure are supposed to be makes people feel so excited about their machines and makes them engage and love them in a different level.

For us feminism is deeply needed in the cycling world to make cycling inclusive, approachable and available to all. We believe cycling is not intrinsically feminist or sustainable and so we feel we need to create and facilitate a truly feminist, inclusive and sustainable cycling culture. For that we need to reflect on the attitudes surrounding cycling – like we said above – and on the cycling industry and how and where our machines and the parts that make them run are produced. We’re committed to make people think of their bicycles as valuable objects that are worth repairing and maintaining and that can last for a life time if we invest in them. This is a reflection we need to make to many customers. Often people ride their bikes for years and years until they are completely knackered. Then, bringing them up to scratch can be slightly expensive and they think they’re better off buying a new bike. Explaining that if you maintained your bicycle regularly you may spend no more than £30/£50 a year, often makes them see that keeping a good frame and investing (time and/or money) on it is worth it.

We’d like to see the British cycling industry alive and kicking again, not only to make the production of bicycles and bicycle parts more local and sustainable but also because that could create much needed local and useful jobs. That’s why we’re committed to try to stock British made and ecologically sound products – such as Carradice panniers or Green Oil. However, the processes of production and distribution are in the hands of big companies that have a lot of power and make it difficult to access the products we’d like to purchase or that we’d like to see produced. But, whenever possible, we’re committed to work with smaller companies that are more local and work at a more human scale. We dream of a co-operative of bike projects and co-operatives strong enough to work towards that change. For that, we just need to hang on in there and try to spread our ideas and hope that the local cyclists and cyclists to be trust us and come to us.

Guest Post Spokeswoman Hannah reports on her workshop experience in Montpelier

March 18, 2012 Fixing bikes, General, Women 2 comments

I’ve recently moved to Montpellier, France. I wanted to bring my beautiful bike with me from the UK but heard thieving was rife here, so it stayed at home. When I arrived, I found a flea market and acquired an extremely old bike for 25€, which worked reasonably well to start with. However, soon the rear wheel ceased to turn properly. I thought perhaps the rear hub was too tight so did some research to find a bike workshop. I stumbled upon Le Vieux Biclou, a workshop which invites people to use their tools to fix their own bikes with aid from other members – perfect! – a similar philosophy to the Pedallers’ Arms back home in Leeds.

When I went to the workshop, I had been in France for 2 weeks, so my french was very rusty (not unlike my ‘new’ bike). When I entered, there was a stern looking man in his sixties sitting at a desk. I asked if I could use the tools. He demanded to know whether I was already a member. I replied that it was the first time I had been there. He told me I had to be a member and shoved a membership form into my hands. I read through and it was 15€ for a year’s membership. I hesitated as it was nearly as expensive as my bike. I didn’t know if I’d like the workshop, but I felt pressured but told myself it would work out cheaper in the end, I would probably have to fix my bike a number of times throughout the year and I have no tools here with me.

I proceeded to fill out the form and handed over the money, I was instructed to do a few more things, signing a receipt, the back of my membership card, and the membership book – simple tasks, or so I hoped. But, with my French skills not up to scratch, even these were difficult procedures. The man barked incoherent instructions; swallowing consonants left, right, and centre, making no effort to speak clearly. When I asked politely for him to repeat, he obliged, but with barks just as gruff as before. It was clear I could not understand. I felt a right idiot.

Anyway, I managed to deal with the paperwork and I asked how the system worked there; could I just take tools from the shelves? Do I have to ask? Or log it in a book? Was there someone in charge? Etc. The only reply I got was that yes I can use the tools, and I was shown a price list if I wanted to buy parts new or second-hand.

I found the tools I needed and got to fixing. I realised it wasn’t the hub causing the problem. Instead, the dérailleur wasn’t mounted properly and therefore nor was the axel. As a result the wheel was not centred and was sticking on the seat stay. I managed to sort it out.
My chain was filthy and I though the best way to clean it would be to take it off. After cleaning, I put the chain back on, but something wasn’t quite right with the dérailleur and I couldn’t work out what was wrong. I looked at other peoples bikes to work it out, but still no luck. There was one man who seemed as if he worked there, but he was helping out someone else. I waited for them to finish before asking him for help.

While waiting, the man from the desk came over, saw I was stuck, and demanded why I was just standing there; why hadn’t I asked for him for help? Actually, I was too intimidated to ask, but I could hardly say that. Then he proceeded to bark more incoherent instructions at me on how to fix my bike. I managed to do so, but once again felt belittled. He hadn’t given me advice, he had shouted orders at me.

The workshop hours were coming to an end and I had finished my repairs. A man nearby was struggling to reconnect his chain, he had seen me successfully using the chain breaker earlier so asked for some help. I had a shot at it and couldn’t quite manage it, but showed him how to do it – he tried again, as did another two men, but no luck. I then had a final shot and succeeded! I was very satisfied, although it led to inevitable comments of not believing a “girl” fixed it.

As I was going to leave, I was told the “patron” wanted to speak to me (i.e. the man at the desk). The “patron” told me I had to clean the floors of the workshop. I didn’t understand why, I wondered whether it was because I was female, or I had done something wrong, yet I went to do it anyway as I had some time to spare.

I was given a wooden broom, a cloth rag, and a bucket of soapy water. Naturally, I went to start sweeping the floor with the broom.
“NON! Pas comme ça!”
I started.
The man barked that I was doing it all wrong, and ordered me to use the rag instead.
Not knowing the French for broom, cloth rag, bucket, sweep, dunk, or squeeze, did not help matters. I dunked the rag in the water and the put it on the floor and started pushing it about.
“NON! Pas comme ça!”
Did I never clean the floors at home?
I started to feel smaller and smaller.
He’s shouting how I need to dunk the cloth, squeeze it, put it on the floor, then use the broom to push it about the floor, and I’m looking clueless and shrugging my shoulders.
He asks me sarcastically if I understand French. I reply that no, not very well: I’m English.
He snarls that I should say if I don’t understand. I personally thought I had made it perfectly clear I did not understand.
Once I finally understood his instructions, I finished cleaning the floors in his special way, in tears.
I left the workshop feeling about as big as a baby’s toenail.

Since then, I have spoken with friends who informed me that the workshop is an “Association” and therefore every member bears as much responsibility as the next – much like a co-operative. Everyone needs to pitch in with the cleaning and the set up every once in a while – this I have no problem with, actually, I support it. The problem is that I was not welcomed into the space, shown around, informed how the Association worked, made to feel comfortable in the space, as a newcomer, as somebody who doesn’t know everything about bikes, or as a woman. That is the problem. On top of this, the “patron” was not the “patron” (boss), but in fact an “animateur” (co-ordinator or leader). I have since read information on the workshop’s website, which explains that the role of the animateur is to “inform” the public on how the workshop functions and to “welcome” new members to the workshop. I can firmly say that neither of these two specifications were met on my first visit to the workshop.

Something else went wrong with my bike, and it took me a month to work up the courage to return to the workshop, and even then, I ensured that the same animateur was not timetabled to be there when I returned. I have been back twice since and I have observed new members being shown around and inducted into the Association. Everyone has been very friendly, and I now feel comfortable and confident to go to the workshop often. But I’m still avoiding that man from the desk.

Ride out the recession – DIY and the bike

February 13, 2012 Fixing bikes, Tips and advice, Women 2 comments

It’s long been my mantra that the best ways I know to live cheap are 1) packed lunches and 2) riding a bike. Its my experience that every cyclist, especially those of us who live by our bikes and find it difficult to conceive of other ways of getting to work, to the pub, out to the country and just about anywhere are, at some point, going need to know how to fix them. Its not mountain biking or road racing that knackers a bike its the dirty gritty city roads. Its the daily grind, the workhorse not the weekend bike that takes a beating. Its sitting outside in the cold weather and being clipped by cars, propped up against railings outside pubs that leads to wear and tear. And its the inability to be parted from our bikes, even for a few days in the workshop, that allows them to go to rack and ruin. This is totally understandable but it means that every cyclist who does not have money to throw at their bike related problems (which is all of us at the minute – right?) needs to be a mechanic as well. This is a great thing, is an impetus to unleash your inner mechanic! If that sounds daunting, here a few pointers to get you started:

fun at beryls' night

1.Take a class

I am of the opinion that everyone can be a mechanic. If you tell yourself you not ‘mechanically-minded’ you’ve lost before you’ve even started. If such a thing as mechanical-mindedness exists, these people are very lucky most of us simply need practice and patience. Approach it like you would anything new, get some instruction (there is no shame in it – really!). There are more and more courses offered by all kinds of organisations ranging from a few days intro for £60-100 to a full-blown profession qualification which will set you back a grand. Start with an ‘intro’ course, if you get into it you can do something more advanced, never fear repeating the same material you’ve already covered on an earlier course – you literally cannot repeat stuff enough its the best way to get your head round it. Opt for independent workshops and bike coops especially those which will offer you access to their space once the course is completed. I have made a (far from definitive) list of these places at the bottom of the page.

truing wheels at Beryls' Night

2.Join a DIY workshop

This is the key. Once you’ve done a course, unless your a secret millionaire, your not going to be able rush out and buy all the tools you need to start home mechanic-ing. So you gotta find a bike stand, tools, access to parts old and new and comradary/support for those tricky moments. Thats why you need to find a DIY bike workshop near you. Many of these exist to educate people about bikes, enable shared ownership of resources and bring people together around cycling. So support them, don’t faff about getting frustrated in a dark cold garden/garage by yourself, become a member and step into the light…workshop. Some even have women’s nights. (again see list below)

3.Get a guide book: I went through a few before I found one I got on with but when I did it was my absolute security blanket until I gained the experience to out grow it. The internets good and that, you can find literally reams of info on Sheldon Brown’s website but if you are like me a get along better with a proper instructional manual you can take into the workshop I recommend Chainbreakers bike book unreservedly. Its not only easy to follow and covers pretty much everything for the amateur mechanic, its got politics! Its non-commercial, feminist, recycle and reuse message, not to mention the radical New Orleans bike zine reprinted in the back are like chicken soup for the soul of any cyclist who sees bikes and DIY as part of making our material world a bit more authentic. There are others of course so, in order of worth havingness: Park Tool Big Blue Bike Book: lots of pictures but it is just a big advert of Park Tool, Zinn and the art of road bike maintenance, Zinn and the art of mountain bike maintenance: these are very detailed and probably not the best when just starting out, Haynes bike book is very basic and I don’t really rate it. Feel free to add your own reviews to this.

Well hope thats helpful. Lets get to it.

a list of DIY bike spaces offering tool clubs, cycle groups, courses and even bike ballet:

London
56A bikeroom
London Bike Kitchen

Oxford
Oxford Cycle Workshop Training
Women only session Beryls’ Night Wednesdays fortnightly.

Bristol
Bristol Bike Project
BBP women’s night
Kebele Community Coop bike workshop

Birmingham
Birmingham Bike Foundry

Leeds
Pedallers Arms, with monthly women and trans drop-in session

Manchester
I Bike MCR

Newcastle
Recphy yer bike

Beryl’s Night launch

November 11, 2011 Fixing bikes, Women One comment

Last Wednesday (9th November) saw the very first women-only workshop session at South Oxford Community Center: Beryl’s Night. I’ve been working on this project since May is it was flippin’ great to finally get started. We named the night for the female cycling hero Beryl Berton. Having been to lots of open access DIY bike workshop I always noticed a gender bias toward men. After thinking about why this might be and talking to Dan at OCW who told me they have a near enough 50/50 on the maintenance courses they offer but that this falls away when it comes to women using the workshop on an adhoc basis we decided to make Beryl’s Night a bit different…

We start with an hours taught workshop 6-7pm on anything from brakes and punctures, to looking after bikes in winter, then we have bit of dinner and a natter followed by time to tinker with your bike doing stuff learnt earlier or your own projects till 9pm.

This was an experiment to make the session more sociable and open to the less-experinced, less-condifent as well as those who have skills to share. It worked amazingly! I was really surpirsed that we had a big group right from the start (they we there before I was) and everyone stayed till near enough the end. Big up Cass, Lucy and Grace the volunteers who made it possible! The project is still in its infancy but there is obviously an appetite for it and I want everyone who fancies getting involved to be part of it develops as a volunteer or participant.

We’ll be covering different topics each session so check out the calander for dates, topics and details. As I said we’d love to have your input weather you have a bit of experience to share or if your totally new to bike fixing come along and be part of creating a space were everyone feels comfortable to learn and ask questions!

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Women and trans workshop is GO in Leeds

October 19, 2011 Fixing bikes, Women 2 comments

It’s been a while since I’ve posted as we’ve been proper busy over here in windy Leeds setting up the brand new space for our bike coop – Pedallers Arms. The project has been homeless over the last few months after the closure of The Common Place, the social centre we used to run from. But now we’ve found ourselves our very own workshop, are open 3 nights a week instead of 2 and have started up a new monthly session for women and trans people.

The first women and trans session ran on Sunday and it was pretty great. It is something I’ve been really keen to get going for a while, having been inspired by other spokeswomen and projects in different cities such as Bristol Bike Project’s women’s night, Bloomers in Manchester and the brand new Freewheelers bike workshop in Lancaster.

This is not to say that Pedallers has an overtly macho atmosphere on normal sessions. Firstly, we are not a bike shop; we aim to empower people to fix up their own bikes and try to break down the gap between those perceived to be ‘skilled’, i.e. our core mechanics, and those ‘unskilled’ (project visitors). We aim to give access to groups under-represented within the cycling community, such as the many refugees and asylum seekers we regularly work with; women also fall into this category. The fact remains, however, that the majority of our mechanics are male, so we undoubtedly reproduce a sense of men being the ones with the knowledge, even if the project aims for this not to be the case.

I was excited to see what a difference it would make, not to have men in the space. I struggled at first with the marketing of the session; I’d spoken to many people, not just women but trans men and men from the queer community who expressed feelings of discomfort in the traditional workshop environment. I was keen therefore, not to make it solely for women. What I really wanted to say was ‘a session for anyone who isn’t male and straight and macho’ but I felt that wasn’t appropriate somehow…

I was slightly apprehensive before the session. What if no-one showed up because they didn’t think the session necessary? What if there was a question I couldn’t answer? Perhaps it was my politics or personal feminist agenda that led me to put on the session rather than any sense of demand from the community? It turned out to be a total success. The atmosphere was lovely, people were chatting and laughing, helping each other and seemed happy to ask questions about even the most simple tasks. The pace of the session was relaxed and upbeat. Everyone who came thanked us for putting on the session and everyone went away knowing something they didn’t before. As a mechanic I felt totally at ease and happy, more so than in our weekday sessions where I sometimes feel like I know less than others (not true!) or that I am unusual to be a female mechanic.

It’s definitely something we’re going to keep doing and by making connections with all the similar projects in other places, hope we can create a strong network of spokeswomen, getting skilled up all over the country. Bring it on!

Being the ‘inexperienced girl’

September 21, 2011 Fixing bikes, Mountain Biking, Women 2 comments

Last week I went mountain biking in the Lake district – nice way to spend a few day ordinarily, except that I’d never been proper mountain biking before. I’ve always ridden bikes, just not down steep hills covered with loose rocks in the pouring rain. As the title suggests I was the lest experienced, most cautious and, to top it off, sole female in our group. Which is not happy place to be at the best of times but what made it even more excruciating was the fact that we weren’t just out joyriding. Oh no we doing a serious course to become mountain bike ride leaders. Yes it was probably a bit foolhardy of me to just assume that mountain biking was just like well riding a bike – I had one as a kid and you never forget right? Wrong. Its seriously skilful, the bike handles differently, you have to learn balance and movements which feel totally unnatural especially to a cyclist who has spent their youth pounding the streets of london on a road bike. I spent most of the time desperately trying to conquer my instinct to push rather than cycle my bike up the slippery rock face or stick my legs out when tearing down steep hills.

trail-side repairs

The experience revealed to me an exhilarating new side of cycling – it broke down some of the smooth tarmac city limits I had imposed on two-wheeled exploration and definatley gave me some good tools for taking groups out riding (although not necessarily up mountains) which is what I went for. But being used as the instructors example of ‘how not to do’: wheelies, rear wheel lifts, manuals (don’t ask) descents and just about everything else, made it not a very fun way to learn this. This is what it must have felt like to be the unsporty kid in PE lessons at school. For me the whole thing was a bit reminiscent of when you start a new job and you have to prove your as good as you said you were in the interview and everyone else knows what there doing and you don’t feel you can ask. I burned with self-frustration as I pushed at the limits of ability and skill in this thing I thought I’d mastered outright – cycling. The worst of it was being the only women. I’m not sure how much of the competition between the rest of the group about who was the baddest on the bike and who’d sustained the most horrific biking injury was real and how much it was me blowing there talk out of proportion out of anxiety. The whole point of being there was to get trained up to lead rides and organise bikey stuff to get more women cycling – to break down barriers and challenge stereotypes. Instead I felt like I was living up to all expectations that women can’t do mountain biking, or at least that they aren’t as good as men. If there is one thing I hate its being seen as the ‘inexperienced girl’.

I feel like this all the time at the moment cos when I’m not off trying not to break my neck on in the Lake district I work in a bike workshop, again with all men each with a good decades worth of experience on me. I work slower than they do, I have more questions about everything, I am less sure of myself and my judgements and it drives me mental. Unlike them I didn’t start taking bikes apart when I was knee high to a grass hooper just to see how they worked, I played fantasy games and performed made-up plays when I was little. I made conscious decision to get into fixing and ride bikes to me equal freedom, I think the simple act of cycling create sure a radical positive change in someones life that we can change the world if we get enough people on bikes. I wanted to be part of spreading the word spread, the knowledge and the expertise so it isn’t the reserve of intimidating men in a workshop or all-the-kit-bit-of-a-git guys out on the trail its with us all, so we all feel empowered to use, enjoy, build, fix and recycle bikes in ways that work for us.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m probably never going to be the quickest mechanic in the west or mountain biker who can take the most awesome descents but I might start giving myself a break because maybe its a strength to understand what it feels like to be a novice and just maybe its good for everyone new to the world of bikes to see someone they relate to getting stuck in, getting it right and sometimes wrong but always giving it a try.

Bringing DIY to the Bike World – the London Bike Kitchen saga

August 14, 2011 Fixing bikes, General 6 comments

Cycling with Antonio in Krakow

I think it all started when I decided I wanted to build my own bike at the beginning of 2011. I already owned two bikes, a Lemond Etape (road bike) and Alpina Spranghina (granny bike) and thought my third should be my foray into the fixed world. Almost two years before, I had bought a beautiful vintage Claud Butler frame at a bike jumble. My two male friends with me also happened to be avid cyclists and upon inspecting the frame confirmed that it was in perfect condition and I’d be a fool to pass it up. It’s still sitting in my room.

I had been googling bike building courses in London but every lead led to a dead end. The closest I came to anything was offers from friends to help me – but I was stubborn. It’s not that my friends weren’t good enough, I just learn better in a classroom setting with a teacher. I happened to mention this to my new flatmate, a fellow Californian, who then asked, ‘Do you have a Bike Kitchen here?’ My interest was instantly piqued – What is this…Bike Kitchen? Tell me more!

Turns out there are several Bike Kitchens in California – Los Angeles Bicycle Kitchen and Bike Kitchen in San Francisco are the most prominent, but they are all over the state and are in other states, I suspect. The concept is simple: it’s a volunteer run space that uses recycled bicycle parts to supply DIY workshops where people work on their own bikes. I thought to myself, ‘Wait a second…I could do this, and even make it a viable business rather than volunteer-based. I’ve got contacts, some semblance of knowledge and bucketloads of passion…’

But first, let me get this straight – I’m not a business person at all. I’m not very good at maths, I’ve never written a grant application in my life, and I think bankers are the scum of the earth. But after working a couple years in the community recycling & reuse sector, I saw that there was a way to balance the social with the economic – a social enterprise. This was going to be a workplace that didn’t have shareholders to please, a place that invested in the wellbeing of its staff while simultaneously providing an awesome service to the public. But where to begin?

1) Talk to a few people about your idea: I started out by telling trusted friends and family about LBK, and the response was generally the same: “That’s a great idea!” “You should totally do that!” and “Why isn’t anyone doing it over here?” Good question. This led me to step two:

2) Do you research: Online desktop market research is a cheap but time-consuming way to determine what exists out there already, and what people are paying for it. I made my own google map of all the bike-related organisations in Hackney and surrounding boroughs, made a spreadsheet of what services they offer and what they charge. I also designed a survey and sent it out to as many trusted friends as possible (I was still keeping this on the hush hush, you see). I needed to find out people’s attitudes towards DIY bike repair and how much they valued it (in monetary terms).

3) Read up: I borrowed Business Plans for Dummies off of a friend. I still haven’t finished it, but it’s easy to follow and straightforward. And I was able to see where my weaknesses were, which led me to step four:

4) Take a class: Finances frighten me. Like, scare the living bejesus out of me. I’d rather have papercuts rubbed in lemon and salt than have to make a spreadsheet. That is when I know I must take a class. I don’t have the discipline to learn on my own, therefore I need an authority figure to tell me what to do. I took a finance for start-ups course and learned all sorts of neat-o things like what ‘Rates’ are and how to monitor my cashflow. I also discovered that I’ll probably need an accountant.

5) Lastly, get a team of people together that are smarter than you are: I rounded up a group of 6 friends that each had their own superpower: entrepreneurship, bicycle shop experience, small business knowledge, finances, good-at-understanding-the-fine-print, representative of my target market…your list will probably be different. We have met once already, and they are invaluable in keeping their ear to the ground and finger on the pulse because I am WAY TOO BUSY to do so.

Our fancy new logo!

Five months later and I’ve been awarded a grant from the London Cycling Campaign / Transport for London, have located a viable shopfront, recruited volunteers, am halfway through a business plan, sent out two newsletters, set up our facebook/twitter/website, am organising a maintenance course for Muslim women in September, and am about to take the great leap forward into investing my own personal finances in this business. Yep, it’s pretty terrifying, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Jenni Gwiazdowski is starting up the London Bike Kitchen, an open DIY workshop where you can fix your own bike instead of giving it to someone else. There will be a full tool library, mechanics on hand to help, and courses for you to take. Our next stall is at Camden Lock Market on Wednesday 31 August, 630pm and we will be holding our very first bike maintenance course in September – get in touch if you’re interested! We hopes to open our shop Autumn 2011, we does. www.LondonBikeKitchen.org.uk

Women in the workshop; South Sudan to Oxford

August 1, 2011 Fixing bikes One comment

In the midst of all the recent media celebration and speculation about about South Sudan’s new nationhood – a topic which I’m going to skim right over on account of an unforgivable lack of knowledge – I read an article by Laura Powell in the Guardian which really spoke to me. It was the story of four women who braved prejudice and financial hardship to train to become South Sudan’s first female mechanics. They did it for some obvious reasons i.e. to learn a trade and to escape the grinding poverty they had know growing up in civil war-torn Sudan, but then why mechanics? Why not train as nurses or teachers and avoid all the stress and attention which comes with stepping outside of (and thus challenging) acceptable occupations for women? Particularly in a country where women are very much viewed as the weaker sex, most are married off in their early teens and never learn to read and write. Surely its enough just to get some kind of financial independence and basic literacy?

What then gave them the courage to walk the difficult path everyday was their sense of themselves as role models for a new generation of South Sudanese women. This gave what they were doing an importance beyond themselves and their own survival. It was about changing the boundaries of whats possible in the minds of everyone: their families, their teachers, their colleagues and most importantly in the minds of the younger women around them. The article says that they are not activists and have never heard the word ‘feminist’ but in my eyes weather they would recognise these terms of not both accurately describe the nature of what they are doing. Despite growing up in communities which did not accept that women are equally as competent and strong as men they believe that they were, and their determination to succeed in a male industry means that they take action everyday which pushes at the boundaries of social norms about what South Sudanese women can do with their lives.

I’m a mechanic too and, although I work with bikes in a rich country with fairly good gender discrimination laws which hasn’t seen civil war since Charles I, I relate to the experience of these women and the passion they feel about what they do. A big part of the reason I decided to swap my office computer for a spanner (apart from the obvious wanting to do something real and practical and the fact that bikes are the future) was because so few women were doing it. I feel a sense of being part of a small group pioneers opening up new possibilities for other women. Every time a customer walks into our ramshackle workshop crammed to the rafters with bikes in varying states of ill-health and says: ‘oh, YOU fix the bikes do you?’, I have resisted the temptation to offer a grease covered hand and say: ‘no, I’m just the receptionist – do you have an appointment?’ But these exclamations of surprise confirm for me that just by getting up and riding over the workshop each day I am in a small, everyday kind of way contributing to the creation of a society where expectations of men and women are determined not by their gender but by their individual abilities, passions and interests. I get enormous strength from that thought, it certainly helps me get up in the morning when i’m exhausted after endless days in the workshop.

It’s not always easy to be the only woman in the workplace, to feel the need to prove your worth and ability daily. Thats why Spokeswomen matters so much to me; because its all about giving women who dare to get on a bike, walk into a bike shop, try a bit of DIY bike repair a chance to talk about it, share our frustrations and what we’ve learnt, find out about each others’ cool projects and start to build a wicked community of women who ride bikes.