Memorable Transit Experience
My favorite part about public transportation is the lull it gives to the sleep deprived that gently tempts us into the siren-like call of sleep. I discovered the comfortable sleeping environment the MTA had to offer in high school after I fell into a pattern of procrastination and turned into a sleep deprived zombie, a rite of passage most teenagers get to go through in high school.
Unlike most of my peers, I commuted to and from high school by bus, rather than train. The bus stopped almost in front of my home, and brought me right up to the bridge leading up to the entrance. The entire journey took roughly half an hour which meant that I had an extra hour of sleep each day, assuming I was able to snag a seat both times in the round trip from home to school. Each morning I commuted with roughly twenty other fellow classmates, half of whom also lost consciousness over in the rear section of the bus. Being able to commute with so many of my peers brought forth a sense of camaraderie that I had never felt before. Despite the fact that New York is known for its cold residents who want nothing to do with one another, I feel that falling asleep on public transportation reveals the vulnerabilities of tired New Yorkers (and their bags and wallets unguarded in the open) who are just normal commuters trying to make up for their lack of sleep.
The glories of mass transit, and my contribution to anarchy
I am unsure if I am slightly ashamed or oddly proud to have been the inciter of the stereotypically New York grumbles about the crazies on the train, but regardless of my feelings, my blatant disregard for subway etiquette on one uptown six train set off something in a another passenger.
I was not the crazy on this train—I was the people watcher. I boarded the train with nothing worth reading, and, not being in the habit of listening to music in public, decided to entertain myself for the next half hour by watching people.
Of course, the first rule of the subway is do not make eye contact. My only problem with rule is that I will study faces. Usually, when I get caught, I act like I’ve zoned out, and whomever I’ve been staring at pretends they believe it. Until one time, when I was people watching, and the man I was watching turned around. I pretended to be zoned out, but he did not go for it. The man screamed across the car at me “What’s wrong with you? I’m not dirty. F**k you!,” gave me the finger, and then stood up, left his seat, and turned around so that his back was to me. I thought “Alright, my fault, guess I looked upset,” and was ready to let it go, until we come to my stop. Apparently, it was also this man’s stop, and as he leaves the train, he yells at the entire train car, “This country killed my mother, you can all go to hell!”
It made me feel like a real New Yorker after 18 years of suburbia to be cursed out on the 6 train, as if it was a second, less constructed, christening.
Transit System
Being that I am from the small suburban town of Lawrence, on the south shore of Long Island, I was never really familiar with the City’s subway system until my first day of freshman year. The Sunday before school started I moved into a one bedroom apartment in downtown Manhattan, and was finally able to call myself a “city girl.” As exciting as this was, adjusting to the City life added a whole new level of stress that accompanied those first-day-of-college nerves. When my first day of school finally arrived later that week, I made sure to estimate how long the subway ride to school would take. I decided that it would take no longer than 20 minutes to get to Hunter College from Astor Place, and so just to be safe, I left to school 45 minutes before my first class was scheduled to begin. With my newly purchased metro card in one hand, I hopped on my very first subway ride to school on the 6 Train that day. While the subway ride that day took a few minutes less than I had estimated, the ride nevertheless felt endless. To say the subway that day was packed is an understatement. At each stop, more and more bodies flooded into the subway car, regardless of the lack of breathing space available to the rest of us. What I realized on that day may seem cynical and perhaps a bit dramatic, but I found that many people become their most aggressive versions of themselves when piling onto the subway each morning. Since there are no legal constraints on the number of people that may enter each subway car (and if so such would be difficult to enforce), more people push and squeeze their way onto the subway than can fit. This is especially frustrating when the subway is delayed, which happens constantly. While this may seem to be a trivial complaint, it is a struggle I have dealt with almost every day since that first subway ride – since I am always commuting to school during rush hour. Furthermore, being that I get extremely claustrophobic in crowded spaces, this makes my daily experience with the NYC transit system extremely frustrating and almost unbearable.
-Nicole Schneider
Memorable Mass Transit in the City
My high school has over five-thousand students, and since most people ended either 8th or 9th period and commuted to school, that means around 3pm, the surrounding train stations were filled with Brooklyn Tech kids trying to go home and I would be quite excited. I was not so much excited because school ended for the day; I loved my high school. Everyone and everything there was cool and I’d live there if I could. I was excited more so because it meant that I was going to take the train home with my friends. Commuting by train was enjoyable for me because it’s how I met and bonded to some of my closest friends today.
I remember the first time I happened to take the train home with my classmate Cherin. We were acquaintances and knew of each other, but didn’t really talk in class because there weren’t many chances to. So while we were waiting for our train, I decided to get to know her. We talked easily about the class we shared and what we thought about our teacher. Once our train came, we stuffed ourselves into the carts like canned tuna and complained about it. After we were done complaining, we talked some more about anything and everything. We learned that we had a lot of things in common: we both got off the same stop, enjoy video games, and liked exploring new places. The shared experience of the uncomfortable travel back home helped unite us and brought us closer. What was a 45 minute commute felt more like a 10 minute commute. She’s still a good friend of mine today.
Mass Transit Ride
The subway rides or bus rides I take everyday are often an aspect of my day that I am just trying to get through. They are a means of getting to the next thing I have to do so therefore I use them to relax (not likely, during rush hour) or to space out and mind my own business. But every once in a while there is a ride worth remembering for any number of reasons. One day recently I experienced one of these instances where it was not just another subway ride. My friend and I were riding the subway together after class; he was going home to Brooklyn, and I was going back to the dorms in the lower east side. It was an average ride for the first couple of stops after we got on, but what made it remarkable was that at 51st Street, my friend Dan’s father entered the same train car that we were in. A funny coincidence. But at the next stop, 42nd Street, my sister entered our car as well! Out of all of the trains and all of the different cars on each train, Dan’s father and my sister chose the exact same one that we were both in. An absolutely bizarre occurrence that will likely never happen again even if we all take the train every day for years to come. In such a big city with so many people, this particular ride helped remind me that it is a small world after all, and coming from a relatively small town in Westchester, reminders like this help me feel more comfortable each and every day.
Memorable Transit Experience
There are many interesting transit experiences I could detail but I chose this one because of the impact it has on me every time I travel using public transit. One summer night during my high school years, my father and I were traveling home from Manhattan. I was taking an SAT class through the Let’s Get Ready program. My father, being the over-protective parent he is, insisted on traveling with me every night.
We got on the 1 train and then transferred to the A train taking the two seat-er meant for those with disabilities. I took the seat closest to the door and my dad the one closer to the conductor’s door. We had stopped at the candy store and I began to indulge in some chocolate rocks. We talked about my day and what he did for the three-hour duration of my class. Then I began reading my book and he rested his eyes. As we got closer and closer to our stop, the train began to empty.
Around Broad Channel, I looked up from my book to find an older man staring at me. I made eye contact thinking it would make him aware that I knew he was looking and hopefully he would look away, but that seemed to intrigue him more. My dad at this point was deep in his meditation, he insists that he never actually sleeps. I realized from the way I was hunched over and how my dad was slouching, the man could not see my father and thought I was alone. I looked again at the last sentence I was reading in my book giving the man the benefit of the doubt and some time to look away.
Yet, when I looked up again, he was looking. The next stop was approaching and he began to walk towards me. He had a creepy smirk on his face. I leaned back purposefully to reveal that I was not alone, keeping my eyes on his expression. As I did, almost immediately, he stopped and swayed into the space right before the doors. When the next stop had finally come, he exited. I had not realized but I was holding my breath in fear of what he could have said or done. I am sure that if I had been alone that night, this story would have had a very different ending.
Now, as I take the subway alone on a daily basis, I am constantly reminded of that night. I am grateful for the services the transit system provides, but that night taught me that though we may come from the same place or even live in each other’s neighborhoods, we are strangers. That being said I still believe in and have great faith in humanity, but I also try to be realistic. I try to use great caution and practice great awareness anytime I travel, especially when I travel alone.
Nostalgia: Memorable Mass Transit Experience
The MTA has been an essential and routine part of my life. The transit system dates back in my memory to the early years of childhood when my parents and I would take the N across the Manhattan Bridge to visit my grandparents and relatives in Brooklyn. They had emigrated from China to America when I was seven years old, and until then, I had never been to any other borough outside of Manhattan. All my subway trips were restricted to the darkness of the underground, penetrated only by the occasional waning light bulbs flashing through the velvety black tunnels, leading towards the inevitable fluorescent lighting shining over the yellowing tiles of the next stop on the train.
It was eye-opening the day I finally experienced a subway ride above ground. I remember clambering up to kneel on one of the plastic seats as the train slowly rose above the tunnel, gaining traction as it rumbled across the bridge. I remember staring in awe as the train climbed above ground, allowing the shiny windows of apartment buildings to appeared, flashing one by one across my peripheral view and creating a gigantic, panoramic picture of the Lower Manhattan skyline. Towering steel skyscrapers and luxury glass apartments with rooftop gardens was softened by weathered brick tenements and rustic churches crowded close together, surrounded by highways winding lazily across the landscape, with beetle-sized cars creeping slowly down the stretches of concrete, their shiny exterior and windows glinting in the brilliant sunlight. The monochromatic structures of brick, glass, and steel then gave way to the shimmering blue-green waves of the East River, winking like diamonds against the white-gold rays of the early afternoon, sprinkled with the occasional sailboat bobbing calmly in the waves or a speedboat cutting a foamy white path across the water. The view was beautiful enough that busy passengers chanced a look away from their cell phones: taking a moment to relax, easing the worries from their tensed expressions, and basking in the warm sunshine. Heading back home from Brooklyn to Manhattan, the fiery red-orange streaks of sunset gleamed across the gentle waves of the river. The warm gleam of the golden hour between sunset and dusk lit up the dust motes swirling around the train car. The scenic image and my hand tucked in my mother’s hand soothed me: the gentle rocking of the train in harmony with the quiet murmuring of the fellow passengers, the rustling of newspapers, and the occasional pop song bubbling jaunty notes from a passenger’s headphones. This was a regular slice of my happiness growing up, as comforting as a piece of chicken pot pie or a hot cup of tea. This moments of traveling created a period of peace and tranquility in the otherwise hectic hustle and bustle of the metropolitan world in New York City.
In the modern day as a college student, the transit system has become less idyllic and romantic. Because of its daily usage and necessity as a means of transport, train rides have been less of a journey and more of a sudden pause between the next obligated destination and the next responsibility I have to fulfill. It can be an annoyance at times when the trains are delayed or inch forward at snail pace, a nuisance when passengers cause a traffic jam in train car doors, and a tension-filled bubble when tired commuters snap at one another and moan for the unattainable “more space”. It becomes a waiting area where I anxiety await my next stop, my next goal, my next step in the strenuous process of university, discovering an occupation, and taking initiative to achieve those dreams. It becomes an interlude within the hubbub of life, a place where I can catch up on last minute work or a place to catch a few minutes of precious sleep. Day in and day out, it becomes easy to slip into the monotonous schedule of our daily lives, the subway being a necessary blip in the process. However, it can also pick you up from the boringness of everyday travel. Anything from a baby’s chortle or a child’s excited babble to a casual conversation with a fellow passenger, a fluffy puppy in a hand bag or a lanky dog tucked under a seat, or a sea of school children swarming onto the train car is exciting. The occasional break in the flow of quiet commute always brings an unstoppable smile to my face and reminds me of the days in which every train ride was as exciting as the last, a stimulator of new emotions and feelings, a detour of new discoveries and surprises.
