Just Give It Up
I think we all have those moments when the city wears on us. But I don’t think I’ve ever had one like I did yesterday morning.
I’m riding a Manhattan-bound Q train. It’s around 11:30am, so not particularly crowded, but all the seats are taken. Two women get on, one of whom is older and using a cane. They stand there, looking for a seat. They don’t find one and no one offers one. Fine, people can be oblivious. It happens all the time.
So I ask, “Would you like to sit?” She smiles. I ask, “Would anyone please give their seat up so this lady can sit down?” No one says boo. Nothing.
In 14 years of post-college NYC living, I think this is a first for me. But it doesn’t end there.
I’m flabbergasted by the gall of these people. This woman is literally standing there leaning on the pole and her cane. Looking particularly at a fit, healthy man in his maybe late-20s wearing a baby blue summer fedora and sipping from a Green Mountain Coffee cup, I say, “Really? No one.” He looks me straight in the eye and calmly offers, “It’s not your job.”
“No, it’s your job to give up your seat for a woman with a cane. I shouldn’t have to ask.”
“You’re being very aggressive.”
“Are you kidding?”
The woman with the cane seems slightly embarrassed now and smiles again, waving that it’s ok. I’m floored and honestly feel torn between screaming and crying, but just sort of move away while Green Mountain boy pays the whole thing no mind.
Someone taps me on the shoulder. “You weren’t being aggressive,” says a kind young woman, “just a gentleman. Some people are just…”
But this shouldn’t have to do with me or him being a gentleman. Or a man for that matter. It has to do with being a human being. Naive and petty as it may sound, Green Mountain boy (and all those sitting around him who also sat motionless through this whole thing) dealt a serious blow to my belief in the spirit of this city.
Myopic obliviousness to others is frustrating but understandable. A begrudging willingness to do the right thing is frustrating but also understandable. Blatant, shameless selfishness like the kind I saw yesterday is shockingly sad.
Some people might see this as a pointlessly obsessive rant over nothing. I don’t think it’s nothing. I think these are the kinds of small decisions we make that define how we approach the larger decisions we make. If you feel fine denying someone less capable than you a seat on a train, what else would you feel fine about?
I sharply felt whatever shame Green Mountain boy and his fellow sitters lacked. Because I had the terrible thought that he may actually be my neighbor. He was on the train about as long as I was. Regardless of whatever problems we have out here, since moving to Ditmas Park two years ago, I’ve always felt a certain underlying warmth and kindness in its residents. And yesterday morning made me feel ashamed of both my city and my neighborhood.
But only for a moment. Because then I figured, “Nah. He must be from out of town.” I think I’ll hold onto that thought and keep being aggressive. So should you. And don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t your job. It is.
It’s all of our jobs.