Philosophy from the Subway

I spent the last week on vacation, though I still have difficulty separating that word from summer in my mind.  A friend and I drove up to New York City for a few days, because we had never been and because we had some money from our tax returns, and because why not?  It was a wonderful trip.  Though I have a long list of things that we didn’t have time to see, we hit the highlights—the Empire State, the Statue of Liberty, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Public Library, Chinatown, and of course Times Square.  I’m hoping that I can see the city more often in future, though maybe only once a year.  It’s a bit too far to drive very often, and I definitely cannot afford to fly.

I was a bit nervous, however, about meeting the people.  If I am anything, I am a country girl, and New York is the city to beat all cities.  I’ve heard so much about the way New Yorkers interact with one another, their bluntness, outspokenness, and general disregard for other people on the street.  Everyone knows the reputation, right?  Not mean, not really, but someone who is too busy to pay any heed to a stranger’s problems, and who gets impatient—and says so—when something is not going his or her way.  My friend said on the trip that her mother had told her not to listen to New Yorkers, and a New Yorker laughed and admitted she was probably right.

One incident stands out in my mind.  It was on the subway our first night, coming back to Grand Central after we had seen a Broadway play (Les Mis—amazing!!).  As the train stopped at our stop, a young man turned to an older gentleman sitting next to where he was standing.  “Now, sir,” he said to the old man in a genial tone, “you kicked me, so you wanna apologize, or…?”

I blinked.  It was not what I had been expecting him to say.  The old man looked up with a frown, and I thought someone might need to defend him. 

“You wanna call the police, pal?” he asked, jerking a thumb dismissively.

They continued to argue as we got off the train.  It was a difficult conversation to hear, raised as I was in such a polite environment.  I would never dream of saying anything like that to a stranger, even if they were definitely at fault, and I would almost expect someone to apologize to me even if the blame was on me.  This kind of confrontational attitude is not something I know how to deal with at all.

This kind of thing is what I might have expected of New Yorkers, and I braced myself to see more of the same as the days went by.  I didn't.  Everywhere else we went, we kept coming across surprising acts of kindness from the people we would meet.  A man saw us puzzling over our map and offered to help us find our way; a woman overheard us speculating about our destination and explained what we would find there.  Anyone we asked for directions was more than happy to point us on our way and give us a few recommendations.  We even witnessed another loud discussion on the subway in regards to the need for people to be more courteous to one another. 

So much for generalizations.  I think wherever you live, wherever you are, people are capable of kindness.  It may be easier to be rude, to be impatient, to be snappish or cold, but that doesn't mean that everyone you meet is going to take the easy way out.  Whatever society expects of you, you can find a way to spread good instead of evil.  Negativity only breeds negativity, but fortunately for the human race, the same is true of positivity.