Story time: As I sat on the packed 8:36 Metro North train back home this evening reading some short stories for class, I was interrupted by a fairly young african american women (who sat in front of me) who asked me if I was an English professor reading and highlighting materials for class. A bit taken aback from being addressed along with the question, I kindly replied that I was still a student and that I was visiting New York for a information session for summer publishing program. Perhaps to other commuters annoyance, we struck up a conversation regarding education and how hard it is to find a industry in which individuals stay in for their entire career. I noticed some people rolling their eyes and giving a you got to be kidding me look as the lady explained how she was going back to school while working at a supermarket trying to get by. I even got weird looks as my eyes met with others standing around, as if they were silently telling me Why bother talking to this lady? I ignored the pompous eavesdroppers/onlookers and explained my current situation, about school, my future, my worries to this stranger who I only met a few moments ago. She carefully listened while I spoke and told me that things will always be better and that despite the hard times, we can still turn to each other for times in need. She also told me that she was rooting for me and that I would be in her prayers tonight, before she got off at New Rochelle station.... I put my reading down, turned off my music, and replayed what just happened on the rest of the way home. I was on the verge of tears thinking how sympathetic she was to my bullshit problems while she had troubles putting food on her table while trying to escape this ever growing socio-economic gap by going to school in the evenings. It all started with a simple question. Food for thought.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 04:43:46 +0000
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