Dancing in New York

I spent a recent weekend in New York City, one of the most interesting, unique and complex places on earth (yes, I know, there are many interesting, unique and complex places in the world, but this is definitely one of them!). I was visiting my 22 year old son, who moved here two months ago and is at the beginning stages of launching his career as a computer scientist. He seems to be adjusting quite well for someone who has spent the last 10 years anchored in the Midwest. We traversed the subway system, he striding through the underground network of trains, paving his way through the massive crowds with confidence and fortitude, while I hurried behind in his wake. We explored together as he searched for his first apartment, we ate meals with friends (a surprise bonus – you never know who you’re going to run into in this city!), and generally enjoyed each other’s company after many weeks apart.

Now that I have started this blog (which allows me to write at length about whatever moves me) I find that I am always on the lookout for material that will give me what I hope will be an interesting perspective on kindness to write about. This means that I tend to look at the world a bit differently than I did before, and I’m observing phenomena that I may not have otherwise noticed. That’s what happened over my NY weekend. I made some observations that were unexpected and surprised me a little.

New York Gets a Bad Rap

I have been to New York many times, but as a non-New Yorker I have to admit that I have subscribed to the vision of coldness of the city in general, and I’m not talking about the weather. New Yorkers, we are told, are rude, pushy, unfriendly and totally status conscious. They are always in a hurry, have no consideration for others, and arrogant. It’s pretty easy to find confirmations of those assumptions if that’s all you are looking for.

When you think about it, any densely populated area (and you can’t get much more densely populated than Manhattan), shoves people together in very close quarters, 24/7. It becomes very difficult to claim and maintain any sense of private space when you are out on the public streets, and living quarters for most people are notoriously cramped. When my son finds the housing he is looking for, he will be paying top dollar for a small room barely big enough for a bed, and sharing the tiny kitchen and living area and bath with two or three strangers. Wherever you go there are hoards of other people going the same way you are, and hoards of other people going the opposite direction, and hoards of people going in every other possible direction, all at the same time. On a day with nice weather, those hoards increase exponentially.

To the casual observer, people are rushing around, not talking to each other or even making eye contact, stopping for no apparent reason right in front of you (causing you to occasionally crash right into them), and generally making it difficult to get anywhere easily. 

The Kindness Continuum Dance

These stereotypes probably sound familiar and accurate, even to those of you who live in the city, but there is much more going on than meets the eye (or the assumptions, as it were).  If you look a little deeper, all of these mass movements consist of a delicate and complex dance among strangers and crowds. Most people are pretty good at the dance, and figure it out quickly.  I find this intensely interesting, especially when you consider that the thousands of people traversing the streets in New York are incredibly diverse. Every color of skin is represented, every nationality, every age, every sexual identity and orientation, every personality type you can imagine. Multiple languages are spoken all around you all the time. Native New Yorkers mix and blend with first time visitors constantly. It’s what makes the city at once so vibrant but also potentially extremely stressful.

Our usual little petty annoyances simply have no place in this environment. When we are riding a packed subway, it makes no sense to get upset when someone shoves against you as the train lurches forward. And when someone in the back of the train is trying to get to the door, people must graciously part the way to let them through, even if that means we squeeze more tightly together and step on each others’ toes to make that happen. People don’t roll their eyes when a family with a stroller gets on the train that is already packed to the gills. They just make the space and say “no problem” when the parent apologizes for rolling the stroller over someone’s foot.

This dance is really quite astounding when you think about it. All it would take is one person to disrupt the peace and all hell would break loose. And that of course does happen, but thankfully it is relatively rare when you consider the millions of people who make their ways here and there throughout the city every day. And even if you avoid the train and take a cab it isn’t necessarily any less stressful. Consider the constant sirens, the gridlock traffic, horns honking at pedestrians (who have the right of way) to get out of the intersection, horns honking at other cars or trucks as if they had the power to will the crowd to disperse and let them through. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy. And don’t even get me started about the bicycles weaving in and out of traffic and crowds everywhere.

Somehow we are able to rise to the occasion and keep our unkind impulses in check in such situations. Why is that? And why don’t we keep them in check in less fraught situations?

Compatibility Among Strangers

Another observation took place outside the crowded subway in Central Park. It was a beautiful spring day and the park was very crowded. One well known stereotype is that New Yorkers will never greet you on the street, and I have found this to be true not only in New York but in most cities of any size. But while I was observing that particular city habit, I also noticed something else going on. As you might expect, people were in discrete groups in the park: families, couples, friends, individuals, people with dogs. The groups of people enjoying Central Park were in very close proximity to each other and not interacting, and yet there was a synergy and compatibility among the groups and people that was unmistakable.

Often times we recoil when someone invades our space, but that wasn’t happening the day I was there. The people I saw were very respectful of the insular activities of the different people and groups in the park. Some were having a picnic. Some were taking photographs. Some were playing games and running around. Some were walking their dogs. People shared crowded park benches. Some were stopped on the sidewalk to listen to an impromptu jazz combo that had set up in the park. Many like me were intentionally spending the time alone, enjoying the serene beauty of the spring day and the New York skyline. People were constantly crossing paths and moving in and out of each others’ spaces. When they communicated with each  it was pleasant and with respect. No one got overly upset when someone walked in front of their camera just as they were about to take a picture. I mean really, how can you avoid it with that many people walking around?

I decided that as long as I was in this environment I would initiate an extremely limited (and unscientific) social experiment. I noticed that when I initiated brief conversation with others while standing in a line or walking along a crowded street, people were openly friendly with their response. I’m not talking about anything overly in depth. Just a brief comment about the line, the traffic, the weather, maybe a self deprecating or humorous remark or observation. Nothing that required much thought or investment of emotion or time, and nothing that inquired about personal information from the other person.

I had a fair number of very brief encounters with people in this way. They took place at the deli while waiting for my bagel (in case you don’t know this, New York bagels are worth the whole trip…just sayin), while trying to find my way around the Museum of Modern Art, at the airport, in the Park, on the train, while waiting to cross the street, virtually everywhere. While most people didn’t initiate conversations with strangers, I found that when I did so these brief encounters were not rebuffed but rather embraced. When I paid attention and looked around, I witnessed them occurring all around me.

What Does it All Mean?

What is the significance of all this fascinating behavior as it relates to the Kindness Continuum? I think that while being in constant close proximity to others, such as exists in densely populated areas like New York and other large cities, we find ways to be together without really being together. The human connectedness that we all need is there but we also need our private space and that is there as well, even among the throngs of people. We tune others out so that we can be alone with our thoughts.

The stress of constant interaction is tempered by our ability to find solace and isolation in the midst of raging chaos, and we recognize the necessity of finding the inner strength not to let the stress overtake us. At the same time, we grant others grace when they “invade” our space, and we expect that grace when we “invade” theirs. In this way, by constantly accommodating ourselves and others, we reduce our overall stress levels and are able to function in a calmer, more efficient manner. Yes, it is a culture shock to travel to a city like New York when your own daily environment is so different from the constant hustle and bustle, but we humans are adaptable creatures, and adapt we must in order to survive.

Of course I’m speaking in generalities about collective behavior and interactions. There are numerous examples of how such a stressful, crowded environment can wreak havoc with our lives over time, and we read everyday about situations where people simply “snap” from all the pressure.  But I am convinced that people who live their whole lives in such environments, along with the casual visitors like me, find ways to make it work so that the vast majority of the time, our encounters with each other are benign and even friendly at those times when we do reach out to each other. We don’t fly off the handle at the least little thing because we couldn’t survive very long in that kind of a social climate.

Thoughts? Your own experience and observations?