A young lady was seated at the end of a subway bench, right next to the door.  A man cooly dressed in business attire entered the train and planted himself in front of the young lady.  The situation is awkward for both the standing straphanger and the sitting individual. The straphanger potentially invades the personal space of the sitter as he or she grasps the rail above.  I see this daily and I always anxiously observe the seated individual’s reaction and body language - some become irritated and vocal.  For others, the notion of “personal space” is fleeting on a crowded subway.  I agree with the latter.

This is a hard city.  It can eat you up and spit you back out.  Stories of young, wide eyed, driven individuals coming to New York City only to find it disjointing and cruel, isn’t just a dramatic creation played out in countless feature films.  It’s reality for many New York transplants.  The City is harsh during the winter, sweltering during the summer and the crowds never relent.  Sensory overload is common, and many transplants give up on New York, returning home.

With that in mind, our human ability to reach out to one another is inherently good, and much needed.  I see it every day. The city can be a hard place to make it in, but small acts of kindness allow many of us to keep moving forward.  Now, I continue the story of the businessman and young lady on the train:

As he encroached on her space, he was nearly shoved into her lap by exiting passengers. Then, I saw her smile.  How could she smile?  The car is hot, breathing is difficult and a stranger is virtually in her lap.  Silence on the train.  She blurts out in a calm voice, “I like your tie.”  He glances down at her, their eyes briefly meet and he responds surprisedly, “Thanks.”  The train continued in silence, most minds were racing, but his thoughts - and mine as well - were broken for just a moment with delight.  Two stops later, he exited the train without a word.  No eye contact, no reciprocal gesture, just a moment of kindness - fleeting.

Find the good in the ugly.  You have to in New York City.  For the most part this is a pretty ugly mix of concrete and steel.  I have to parcel out the small moments of goodness engulfed in this gaudy metropolis.  And when I do, the city morphs into a spectacular place.  I’m from Tennessee, and when I decided to move to New York a lot of relatives and friends couldn’t understand why I’d desire to live in a loud, crowed place.  Wouldn’t I rather relinquish my mind to the ease of an open Southern, pristine landscape?  No, because I find that far from challenging.  One day I’ll think differently I’m sure - I’ll want change - but right now I enjoy the challenge of finding those really good morsels of human kindness in this jungle of tunnels and concrete.

Whether its holding the train door open for a sprinting subway rider, making room for one more hand on the safety pole, or saying “Nice tie” to a complete stranger; at the end of the day, good far outweighs the bad.

Furthermore, random acts of kindness are infectious.  I witnessed a kind gesture as she spoke “Nice tie,” and I made a point to do something kind for another complete stranger as well that day.  Hopefully, someone saw what I did and passed that sentiment on.  There’s a commercial by Liberty Mutual about kindness passing from one person to another (watch it below).  As campy as it may sound, I think it’s true.  Random acts of kindness take on a life of their own.  If we each made an effort to do one kind thing for a complete stranger every day, the world would be a different place.