And so, I departed my room on the Upper East Side of Manhattan on 97th street. As I exited through the revolving doors, the cold Autumn air hit my face hard causing me to throw my hands in my pockets and tighten my hold on my own body. I began to walk downtown, but not 10 paces in front of me before I heard a man beg me for money. Quickly, almost instinctively, I shook my head at him, not even breaking stride. As I looked at the halal cart on that corner, I wondered the question that has eluded mayors, governors, presidents: how do we get people off the streets and into shelters, homes, and jobs. What is it that we can do to help people who are in need. I hurried across the busy 96th street intersection as the light was for the cars and I made it just before their light turned green.

My attention was shifted from that of the homeless crisis in New York City to a very innocent dog leashed to its owner. It walked with pompous and was practically walking its person. It was brief, but any sight of a dog always brings me happiness, confidence, and joy no matter what my state of mind is at the moment.

My feet carried me beneath one of the millions of scaffoldings in New York City. It always seems like this city is under construction and being repaired and nothing is ever working. But my mind began to ponder the thought, “If the city is under construction all the time, is that good or bad? Does it mean that nothing in this city works, and that it is in constant need of repair? Or does it remind people in the hustling bustling New York City moment that this city is always striving to be better than the past?” These questions kept repeating in my mind for the next couple of blocks as the corner stores and delis receded and in their place, passed Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks, giving me the reassurance that I was indeed nearing the fast paced, commercialized 86th street.

To get away from this, I made a quick right that would put me onto Lexington Avenue, and as I walked along the two way street, many cars honked and many people yelled. It wasn’t music to my ears, but it was my New York City white noise. The cars’ engines revving, the loud honks, the exclaims of unhappy pedestrians, the light footsteps of people on the sidewalk. It’s been apart of my life since I could remember and as I recollected on my childhood, I spun-move around a woman that was exiting a restaurant. It was a basketball-like spin move and I finished it off with a fake scoop layup off my left leg with my right leg bent to my hip. With a smile on my face, I went back to normally walking. I love making strangers on the street smile from my random, unorthodox ways of getting around people. I suddenly got a burst of energy and began to speed up my walking, and rerouted my path from the regular sidewalk to walking along the curb near the street-trees and dips of the sidewalk for commercial driveways. I passed so many people with my brisk walking and kept listening. I saw a man in a tailored suit yell for a cab going in the direction of downtown; I saw an older man sitting on a bench reading the newspaper. I saw myself in these men. Not really, but I hope to become a man that will be successful and be busy, like the man in the suit. But I also hope to be like the older man, being able to leisurely read a newspaper in the middle of the afternoon. We’ll see who I become, but for now, I’ll continue walking among New York City.