Compassion and Empathy: Qualities Every Transport and Urban Planner Must Have

A recent experience left me reflecting deeply on the way we design cities—and who we leave behind in the process. I had attended a beautiful performance featuring dancers with various physical disabilities. Watching the performance really got me in my feelings. Their movements were mesmerizing, filled with joy and grace, but even as I watched in awe, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness.

Not because of their physical differences—no—but because their happiness on stage made me realize how often we, transport and urban planners, either by design, ignorance or thoughtlessness, bring so much saddness and grief to their lives.

As urban and transport planners, we hold immense power. The mighty power of the pen. The choices we make determine not just the functionality of infrastructure but the freedom, dignity, and safety of everyone who uses it. Yet, all too often, we design cities as if people with disabilities don’t exist—or worse, as if they don’t matter.

As I reflected on this during the performance, I kept thinking about how many of us design cities only with able-bodied people in mind, ignoring the reality that at any moment, anyone—myself included—could find themselves relying on a wheelchair, crutches, or prosthetics.

Questions from the Back Seat

After the performance, my family and I drove to a nearby restaurant, and the kids in the car couldn’t stop talking about what they’d just seen. My youngest daughter exclaimed, “Mama, I saw the man without legs! He was fast and strong!”

Her sister chimed in, “Mama, did you see the woman with sticks? She was flying in the air! I want to fly like her!”

Even our neighbor’s daughter, who had tagged along with us, shared her excitement: “Mama Herana, they were so cool!”

I loved every single one of their questions and comments. They saw the physical differences, yes, but it didn’t stop them from recognizing the dancers' beauty and strength. In their innocent eyes, these performers weren’t defined by their disabilities but by the joy and power they radiated. There was no judgment—only admiration. I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that this is how the next generation might view the world: through a lens of empathy and wonder, seeing people for their strengths rather than their limitations.

The Ramp That Broke My Heart

When we arrived at the restaurant, the dancers from the performance were there too. But it wasn’t just their presence that caught my attention. I noticed something that broke my heart: they had brought their own ramp with them.

A heavy, fabricated ramp that they travel with.

Seeing that ramp hit me hard. Here were these incredible dancers who had already overcome so many barriers, yet even in their triumph, they still had to carry their own access. A ramp shouldn’t be something they need to bring along; it should already be there, waiting for them—just like the tables and chairs.

This is where we, as planners, have failed. We design public spaces without thinking about those who need them the most. A person’s freedom to move shouldn’t depend on whether they remembered to bring a ramp. Mobility is not a privilege—it’s a right.

Any of Us Could Be One Step Away

This whole experience reminded me of an unsettling truth: any one of us is just one accident away from becoming a person with a disability. Even the safest driver can’t control every situation—whether it’s a reckless road user, a sudden distraction, or a dog darting into the street. Life can change in an instant, yet too many urban and transport planners design cities as if they will never need that ramp, elevator, or extra time at the crosswalk.

Our cities are filled with barriers, both visible and invisible. Narrow sidewalks, bus stops with no access points, and intersections that force pedestrians to rush through short crossing times are all too common.

Our work as transport and urban planners affects more than just infrastructure. It shapes lives. And when we fail to consider the needs of everyone—including those with disabilities—we are not just neglecting technical details; we are neglecting humanity. When we choose to be in this profession, we need to remember that we are not designing our backyards, but we are shaping both the backyards and front yards of millions of people. Compassion and empathy must be the driving forces behind every decision we make.

The dancers’ ramp was a reminder that we still have a long way to go. A truly inclusive city is one where no one needs to carry their own ramp, where mobility aids are unnecessary for accessing basic public spaces. That is the kind of city we must strive to create—a city where everyone feels welcomed and valued.

The Power of Empathy in Planning

Compassion and empathy aren’t just nice-to-haves—they are essential tools for every urban and transport planner. When we design with empathy, we stop focusing on the “average” user and start building for everyone. And when we do that, we create cities that are safer, kinder, and more inclusive.

We have the mighty power of the pen. Every decision we make sends ripples through our communities, affecting people’s freedom and quality of life. We’re not just drawing lines on paper—we’re shaping lives. And that demands more than just technical skills; it demands compassion and empathy.

Conclusion: Shaping Lives, Not Just Spaces

The performance, the kids’ questions, and the dancers’ ramp were all powerful reminders that our work as planners is about more than just infrastructure—it’s about creating freedom, dignity, and opportunity for everyone.

So let’s pick up the pen with intention and care. Let’s design with empathy, remembering that at any moment, we could find ourselves relying on the very spaces we create.

Side Note*This blog post contains my original thoughts and reflections based on my experience in urban planning and transport. I like to think a lot and maybe even worry a lot about the state of our urban environments, so I decided to jot my thoughts on this blog to share with you all. If you’d like to share or discuss these ideas, feel free to reach out to me.

Lastly, I'm not a professional writer and my blog will probably not have a professional structure. I write when I'm inspired or bothered by something. This blog is an outlet for the my thoughts.

Cyprine Odada

shapingafricastransportfuture.wordpress.com

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