This was previously published in our April 2026 issue.
In 2013, my parents made the decision to move us from our city home in Allentown to a suburban neighborhood in Upper Milford with my grandparents, two blocks from Emmaus High School. This move was the best thing for my siblings and me, but we never would’ve expected the parking drama that would begin 13 years later.
When I began driving, it was amazing, but now it seems maybe my car and I are a supposed inconvenience for others on my street, which I simply don’t understand.
During last summer, my family heard this awful noise from the street behind us, but we figured it was construction. The noise began to grow louder and closer, and closer, and closer…… That’s when we decided it was time to go outside and see what was happening. And then we saw them. The signs:
‘PERMIT PARKING ONLY 7-3 P.M. MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY.’
What. The. Heck? Surely this was a joke. We were furious. I mean, this was a random Tuesday in the summer, not the school year. Now we would have to PAY for a permit to park on OUR street; the same street my grandma had built her own house on 40 years ago. Absolutely not. So we waited it out. Once July came along, I got my license. Then, the school year began in August, and we had no problems until February.
Just a month beforehand, my friend in the theatre department opened up to me about her stress with having nowhere to park on our actual school campus. The only solution I had was to offer for her to park at my house, but little did I know this was the start of a street-wide issue.
One random day I was sitting in third block when I got a text from my mom saying that the same friend got yelled at by my neighbor for parking on my street. He called the township. He even called her stupid. So we ended up getting the maximum amount of free guest passes, and yes, there is a limit of two.
This means that no more than two visitors are welcome at my house on weekdays. Eventually, everything calmed down, and no one spoke to us about it again.
Then a few weeks later, I came home from school (after 3 p.m.) to a warning letter on my car. That same neighbor had called again, but this time on me. He had finally done it — he was in charge of the street. We had to do what he wanted, even if the other streets in the neighborhood weren’t following it, which is why I am here writing this article to share my story and hopefully be a change for me and the other people on my street.
Yes, we need permit parking. No, we don’t need to pay for it if we pay taxes already. Yes, I am aware it’s only $5. No, that doesn’t make it okay. Yes, I understand some teenagers can’t park perfectly straight. No, that doesn’t mean this needs to be in place during the summer. Yes, I know I have a driveway to park in. No, we can’t all park there because everyone in my house has a different schedule. Yes, I know it isn’t the end of the world. No, I won’t give up sharing my voice when I am being wronged.
This hurts me because when I graduate high school and we throw my grad party, what happens if it’s on a Monday- Friday? What if it just so happens to be after 7 a.m. but before 3 p.m.? Can I not have more than two friends over on a slow Monday in summer? What if my grandmother’s birthday is a weekday and her three other kids want to visit? Where will they park?
I could come up with a million what-ifs, but what this experience has taught me is that we, teenagers, are the future of the world, so we need to learn to fight for what we believe in because that is what our country stands for. No issue is too small; let your voice be heard as I am letting mine be heard. I will park on my street, and I will use my voice.
