Lisolett looked uncertain. The Venezuelan mother in her early 40s wore a fluffy white hoodie and new matching helmet. The ivory-colored bike in front of her accessorized perfectly.
But she shook her head. “I don’t know how to use the coaster brakes on this bike,” she said. “I haven’t been on a bike since I was a teenager. I only know how to use hand brakes.”
A Freewheels Houston volunteer nodded sympathetically. “How about this one?” she said. From a line of bikes along the warehouse wall, the volunteer rolled out a serviceable but considerably less glamorous red model – with hand brakes. Lisolett nodded, swung onto the seat, and soared into the sunlight to give it a test ride.
Unlike nonprofits that focus on recreational bikes, Freewheels gives bicycles to adults and teenagers who need transportation to work, care for their families, or get to class. Mainly taking referrals from other nonprofits, Freewheels typically gives bikes to refugees, veterans, people emerging from homelessness and young people from a pair of schools in Alief.
Volunteers help get the right bike
Because Freewheels volunteers do all the labor—and demand always exceeds supply—workers go out of their way to ensure their customers will get bikes they can actually use.
After a donor brings a bike to the Gulfton repair shop, a small team of volunteer cleaners, mechanics, and attendants like the one helping Lisolett all collaborate, matching clients with bikes that truly help them move forward. Last year, the nonprofit celebrated its 10th anniversary – and a total of more than 3,000 bicycles given to Houstonians like Lisolett. Everyone leaves with a helmet and a lock; bikes are outfitted with lights and a bell.
Gliding back into the showroom, Lisolett beamed. “This is the one,” she said.
Like many of 50,000 to 80,000 Venezuelans in Houston, Lisolett did not expect to be an adult bike rider. She spent most of her life in Valencia, one of Venezuela’s largest cities, located in the industrial heartland hit hard by the economic collapse. But 10 years ago, she, her husband and then-toddler fled the country “because of the situation,” she said. Landing in Costa Rica, they got around by car or motorcycle as they worked and prepped immigration paperwork. When they received asylum last year, they moved to Houston, where Lisolett has four nephews.
Today, her husband works in a machine-parts factory, commuting with the family’s one car. Lisolett cares for their daughter, now 11, and studies English. But to fully help her family, she said, she needs to be able to get around independently. A teacher at her English school told her about Freewheels.
Getting around independently
A few months after visiting Freewheels, Lisolett reported from the family’s Westchase apartment with an update. “My bike is a blessing,” she said. “I use it to go to the grocery store. My daughter keeps saying, ‘That’s my bike!’ And I tell her, ‘It’s too big for you. And it’s not a toy. It’s transportation.’”
Riding on the sidewalk for safety, Lisolett said, she can get down Westheimer in around a third of the time it would take to walk. She bikes mainly to pick up cooking basics: eggs, salsa, condiments. But she also knows she has agency to get something more urgent, like aspirin, if her husband is still at work. What she doesn’t do, she said, is ride for fun. She uses her bike to keep her family afloat.
Nevertheless, it has helped make life a little more buoyant. That was the case on New Year’s, when Lisolett surprised her husband and daughter with a pan de jamón, Venezuela’s labor-intensive holiday bread. She’d originally planned to skip it this year.
“I made Venezuelan tamales,” Lisolett said. “I made chicken salad. But for pan de jamón you need olives, ham, bacon, raisins, and cheese.” Then the weather turned balmy on December 30, and Lisolett hopped on her bike for one last grocery run while her husband worked. “I got to the store in about seven minutes,” Lisolett said. She grabbed everything for her recipe and raced home in time to make it for New Year’s. “It was so easy,” she said. “The only difficulty about riding in Houston is the cold.”