It’s a story almost every resident of Central — often erroneously called South — Oakland is familiar with: the anxiety attack that is an inevitable part of trying to find street parking.   

As the proud owner of a Ford Crown Victoria — which is notable for not only its prominent usage by police forces and taxi fleet, but for its unreasonable length and fuel excesses — I have a crisis of confidence whenever the groceries run low or I need to leave campus for any reason. This is because whenever I leave my hard-won spot, it gets occupied almost immediately and when I return from my errands, I must undertake a long quest to find another place to park.

The shortage of spaces in Oakland is acute and apparent to any car owner and is a source of frustration for many. Cars are frequently parked directly in front of fire hydrants on Meyran Avenue, and in some cases, illegally in front of handicapped spots. Most maddening of all are the large swathes of potentially car-friendly curbs that are painted yellow for no clear reason.  

The parking shortage is most visible on scheduled street sweeping days. Since there’s nowhere for cars to go, it’s common to have every single car on the street ticketed for failure to clear out and let the city conduct much needed cleaning services. This refusal to move does not come from negligence or a lack of civic spirit — there’s simply no alternative.

The lack of car accommodation stems from the history of the neighborhood. According to the deeds of the Oakland Square Historic District, right in the heart of Central Oakland, most of the houses built on Oakland Square were constructed in the 1890s, in the pre-mass-produced-car era. These properties look almost identical to those on Meyran, Atwood and Welsford, a strong indication that these streets’ properties were constructed at a similar time. All of these streets have very few driveways. And why should they? Oakland was built before the widespread ownership of cars.

The antiquated infrastructure of the neighborhood is only one piece of the puzzle: There is rampant abuse of the parking pass system. Generally, each housing unit gets three official parking permits. Although there should only be one parking permit issued per unit according to city ordinances, this often goes unenforced. In my house last year, we had three official permits and three visitor passes, all of which were used for residents of the house despite the fact that visitor passes are only supposed to be used by visitors for a maximum of three days.

In addition, units in Oakland are unlawfully overcrowded. According to city law, a maximum of three unrelated people can live in a housing unit together. Last year in my house on Meyran, we squeezed eight people into a single unit. The common practice of illegally overcrowding housing units brings in more cars from students than what was originally intended for families with one or two cars.

I was a part of the problem last year, as I was a user and abuser of the visitor pass. I drove my car to Pittsburgh from my family home in Bethesda, Maryland, blissfully unaware that when I arrived in Oakland, there would be no permit for me.  

This is definitely a Bayard problem — I could have coordinated better with my roommates and I could have gotten my parents to make the four-hour drive to move in all my stuff. But I was 20 years old and if there’s one thing 20-year-olds are not known for, it’s forethought. In the end, my absurdly long car was clogging up our parallel parking spot, just like hundreds of other cars off campus.

To solve this problem, the city needs to crack down harder on people like me. If a car is seen with a pass for more than three days, slap them with a ticket. Repeat offenders should be towed. If the costs of having a car in violation of the city ordinances outweigh the benefits, then there will be fewer cars.  

In a perfect world, landlords would discourage overcrowded housing, but the reality is that landlords profit wildly by charging $500 to $1000 per person for rent in a three-bedroom home occupied by seven people. The University could send out an email to off-campus students before the start of the year, reminding them to be aware of the perils of bringing a car, but in the end, students should take responsibility and keep their cars off campus. As a more specific solution, I recommend combining parking zones B, D and M to open up more potential spots.  

There is nothing more frustrating than driving down the Boulevard of the Allies and seeing the wide-open frontier of Juliet Street and not being able to park there. In those moments, I am reminded of the thirsty sailor from “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”: parking, parking everywhere but not a spot for me.

Ultimately, I am a massive hypocrite. I, a former abuser, am prescribing punishments for behavior I am guilty of. I’m wagging my finger at students like me who take advantage of loopholes in the parking pass system and lug our too-long cars to campus when it isn’t necessary. But hypocrites aren’t always wrong. And besides, I have a legal parking pass and live in a housing unit that abides by the city code this year. I’m a reformed man.

So think twice before you bring a car with you to school. Unless the root causes of the shortage are alleviated — which won’t happen overnight — you’re in for a headache every time you return from a drive.

Write to Bayard at [email protected].