Disneyland is crowned as the happiest place on Earth. Growing up in Southern California, I became accustomed to the general population constantly craving the hour-long lines under the scorching sun, overpriced themed meals and aching feet after a full day of walking around in the story-book-inspired districts. Since I was a young girl, I never fully understood the hype of the 100-dollar tickets.
Sure, taking a photo with Princess Jasmine and spinning in a teacup for one minute straight is pretty cool for an 8-year-old. But it was not until I sat down with my friend, a self-proclaimed Disneyland hater, that I was fully able to realize why millions of Americans use that space as a getaway (regardless of the seemingly infinite screaming toddlers).
Please forgive me if this is a hot take, but I firmly believe the reason we as Americans dream of living in Disneyland is because it is simply a walkable city, a pedestrian-centric concept we cannot fathom as realistic in today’s day and age. Let me break it down. When walking inside the theme park, visitors are met with different themed areas or districts. Shopping areas are beyond side restaurants, which are by hotels and are also near leisurely rest areas and immersive rides/activities. People can quickly and easily walk around the beautifully decorated “town” to fulfill their needs.
As shown in the graphic, people-oriented streets have shops right against the sidewalk to ensure easy access for pedestrians; whereas auto-oriented streets emphasize and prioritize wide roads and deep parking lots for the convenience of cars.
In American culture, we are familiar with our cities and infrastructure designs being car-centric, meaning the town is built around the efficiency of cars. Where I’m from in Los Angeles, it can take me anywhere between 30-60 minutes to walk to my “local” grocery store. It was not until I moved to San Fransisco that I discovered the beauty of walking on large sidewalks next to trees and parks to a Trader Joe’s 10 minutes away from me!
Realizing the issues of non-walkable cities truly opened my eyes to bigger issues that seem to not exist in Disneyland. For example, non-walkable cities tend to lead to social isolation, traffic congestion and a decrease in third places — a place outside of home or work to hang out and relax, like coffee shops and churches.
In Disneyland, everyone seems to be interacting with one another. Whether a parent and child are talking to a randomly spotted Peter Pan, friend groups cracking jokes with ride operators or people simply striking conversation with one another in lines, it is always refreshing to be a part of the natural rise of socialization in an environment like Disneyland. Third spaces are common in the park and are always filled with people and traffic is never an issue since the only cars in the park are Lightning McQueen and Mater. Foot traffic on the other hand is an issue in itself, especially on weekends during the summertime, but it never feels dangerous or harmful.
Though Disneyland is a fun theme park for people of all ages, I encourage you to think deeper about the social and infrastructural implications of such an incredibly sought-after place. There must be something deeper beyond the food and rides to make people so excited about spending hundreds of dollars in a day. Creating a walkable city cannot be done overnight, even with Tinkerbell’s pixie dust, but realizing the correlation between a city’s walkability and its market can help lead to more conversation and change toward a happier and greener world.