Sharp Elbows

Anyone who rides the subway on a daily basis has undoubtedly developed the telltale sharp elbows with which to carve out personal space. Mine have dulled a bit as I carry my son from platform to train. I tend to let crowds push past me to avoid being pinned in the middle of a packed car. This means that I'm usually one of the last people on and rarely score a seat.

I'm not going to ask

Unless I was physically unable to stand, I would never ask a stranger if I could have their hard-won subway seat. If they wanted to/were able to give up their seat, wouldn't they just offer it? And, even if a person looks generally healthy, you never know what their personal situation is. Maybe the well-dressed man reading the Times has a back injury that makes standing difficult. Or maybe the woman listening to her iPhone is seven weeks pregnant and trying not to vomit. Hence, I never ask.

What's more, I would never expect someone else -- a stranger -- to a) take notice; b) have a cause mentality about who should have a seat on the subway; and c) actually care enough to get involved. Why not? When so many people pretend to be sleeping or just plain ignore you when you are standing right in front of them, you'd never guess that the woman getting on the train with you was going to tell people to evacuate the area so that you can sit down.

But someone else will

It happens this way at least once-a-week:

At Fourth Street, I slink on to the jammed subway car with the rest of the sardines, a baby sleeping on my chest and a bag on each shoulder. All seats are taken. No one "sees" me, so I stand. And I'm happy just to be on the train, on my way home.

At Broadway/Lafayette, a woman slips into the spot next to me and asks loud enough for everyone in the three closest seats to hear, "no one asked you to sit down yet?"

I say loud enough for the same people to hear, "no, but I'm fine standing." Without hesitation, the woman will look at the closest seated man and tell -- not ask -- him to give me his seat. I'm amazed (and grateful).

The results of my poll last week suggest that I am the only one who can't believe it. Every person who responded agreed that it was appropriate for a third party to ask seated riders to offer their seats to pregnant or handicapped passengers. So, you all agree with the notion. Have you ever negotiated a seat for someone else? What were your train mate's reactions? Would you do it again?

Babies Change Things

So, everybody told me that having a baby changes everything. They were pretty much right. From the sheer volume of baby paraphernalia we accumulated to my new pseudo-insomniac state, I can barely remember what life was like B.C. (before child).

I am not one to be overly gushy when it comes to babies. In fact, I used to roll my eyes and exasperatedly mutter under my breath when a mom and her overloaded stroller blocked my path on the sidewalk to praise her son for smiling. But now I get it, though I make it a point not to block the sidewalk.

But my son has not only opened up my heart, he is also, somehow, a conduit through which I now connect with complete strangers, especially on the subway where we’re forced to get along. Or not.

B.C., my commute to and from work was one that I think many urbanites experience: music device and ear phones; walk to the train, head down; grab a Metro; wait for train while reading Metro, push on to train in hopes of scoring a seat; negotiate personal space; never meet eyes with or talk to anyone.

With such close quarters, it’s amazing how many days/weeks/months you can go without talking to anyone. It’s actually a pretty solitary experience and something that I didn’t feel particularly energized by.

Now, with my son holding on to me like a baby orangutan, when I board the subway, people want me to sit down. They flag me down from the opposite end of the car. Sometimes people fight over who gives up their seat. It is this “it takes a village” mentality that takes over. And they are so kind. They hold my arm while I settle into the seat they just occupied.

These generous people – young and old, men and women, black and white – are my inspiration for this blog. Over the course of the next several weeks, I will write about the benevolences I encounter on the subway, both my own and others’. And I’m going to make it a point in each day to reciprocate because I can’t continue to take without giving a little back.