Gwendolyn Sobkowiak | staff writer

Early in the morning, as the sun is just starting to rise amid the snaggle-tooth skyscrapers of Pittsburgh, I can be found making my lethargic daily commute to UPMC Mercy hospital.

It’s been a long semester, and although I love my internship, my joy and gratitude aren’t at an all-time high at 7 a.m. Part of my moodiness comes from a new anxiety about driving in the city. It’s not that these roads are unfamiliar, it’s that they’ve gained a new type of obstacle. I’ve been noticing an increasing amount of people jaywalking across busy, high-speed thoroughfares and it’s ridiculous. I’ve honestly had enough of it.

Lately, I’ve been finding myself hitting the brakes, or at least bracing myself for the chance that someone is about to dart in front of my car as I travel through Oakland. It could be just poor road design, or maybe it’s the giant student bodies of its numerous college campuses, but it’s terrifying nonetheless.

If you’re not in Central Oakland, set right in the Mecca of the University of Pittsburgh’s ever-enlarging clutches, this is going to seem petty to you. I’m not trying to be a stickler for unnecessary bureaucracy. But driving in this city has turned me into a Department of Motor Vehicles martinet, the kind of person who rolls down the window of their parent’s beat-up Honda CR-V to ask people to “PLEASE USE THE CROSSWALK.”

Despite all of my anger, I’m aware this issue has historical roots to it, both in Pittsburgh and beyond.

Pittsburghers have always been notorious for jaywalking. As the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette wrote in their 2014 article titled “Jaywalking in Pittsburgh,” “Jaywalking is treated in the sports town of Pittsburgh as both a birthright and participatory sport.”

We’re busy people with places to be, and sometimes that means not making it to the crosswalk. But some of us seem to greatly misjudge the speed limits of the roads they’re illegally crossing on, as well as how little time they’re giving drivers to stop.

As a 26-year-old pedestrian, interviewed after being seen illegally crossing the road told the Post-Gazette, “The only people in this town who don’t jaywalk are the ones who ain’t fast enough …”

My new complaints can be logged in what is actually an age-old roadway drama.

In the late 1800s, as inventors tinkered away with single-cylinder and steam-powered engines, horse-drawn buggies and pedestrians wove past one another without the benefit of clear crosswalks or traffic lights. This wasn’t harmony per se, accidents still occurred, but the relationship between drivers and foot traffic has undeniably changed since the invention of the automobile.

With the development and mass production of the affordable Ford Model T in the early 1900s, America saw a boom of new, higher-speed traffic like never before. Roadways developed alongside these transportational innovations, galloping behind on hooves that had suddenly run their course. A book titled “Roads Were Not Built for Cars” explores this phenomena, pointing out that the original intended purpose of roadways was to make passage for pedestrians, horses, wagons and later bicycles rather than motor vehicles.

Cars provided a shiny, fast, mediated form of transport, that didn’t rely on carrot and stick, but didn’t really spare anyone that they collided with.

That didn’t stop people from their old walking patterns, however, as they continued to make their way across the street between the new behemoths. Peter Norton, a historian at the University of Virginia and author of “Fighting Traffic: The Dawn of the Motor Age in the American City,” writes about friction that the motor age built.

“In the early days of the automobile, it was drivers’ job to avoid you, not your job to avoid them,” Norton said, according to Vox News “But under the new model, streets became a place for cars — and as a pedestrian, it’s your fault if you get hit.”

It’s an important note to remember, especially as I use terminology from this bygone era as I rage inside my speeding machine.

According to Merriam-Webster, “The word jaywalker was formed in imitation of a slightly older word, the jay-driver. This initially referred to a driver of horse-drawn carriages or automobiles who drove on the wrong side of the road.”

A June 2026 NPR article by Mackenzie Martin passes the buck to Kansas City for the popularization of the term and a national campaign against jaywalking, showing the timeline of events that led up to the criminalization of crossing roadways outside of delineated areas.

Martin emphasizes the automobile industry’s heavy hand in shifting the roadway dynamic toward anger at pedestrians, allowing their cars to have center stage on the streets.

Even with all this historical backing reminding me that cars are not the sole proprietors of the roads, I can’t help but wish for some good old fashioned moderation with my spoonful of context.

As historical evidence shows, cars have not always been the center of the roadways, and they don’t need to be. But as the model currently stands I think we all need to try to interact safely within the existing system.

Yes, let’s make more spaces for people to cross, let’s add more sidewalks and let’s slow down the speed of traffic.

Undoubtedly, these actions would save countless lives, and despite making our commutes slightly longer, they would ultimately benefit the Steel City as a whole.

But, in the meantime, let’s keep encouraging people to cross safely.

I think it’s equally important for pedestrians to stop ambling out onto Forbes Avenue with a bus and three lanes of traffic barrelling toward them. I get that some people are not from the city, but I still can’t possibly understand the danger they’ve decided to put us all in.

If these jaywalkers have ever been behind the wheel, they should know there is such a thing as a blind spot. When the sun rises to a certain point I can barely see the road, let alone a rogue 19-year-old deciding to play chicken in front of my car traveling 35 mph.

With the benefit of history to guide us, maybe we could make a new path forward by lobbying the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation to make roadways better for walkers and drivers alike. Maybe if there was more accessible infrastructure I wouldn’t be dealing with all of this nonsense.

Meanwhile, let’s remember to look both ways, walk at a reasonable pace and stick to one-way back alleys for crossing outside the regularly scheduled program, rather than literal highways.

I’m just asking that everyone stops testing my car brakes first thing in the morning, I’m way too tired for that kind of reaction speed testing.

Gwendolyn Sobkowiak can be reached at sobkowiakg@duq.edu