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“Me First”
T

he other day, I was watching an old Seinfeld show on television. Jerry was asked what kind of a comedian he was, and before he could answer, the one who posed the question asked “Are you one of those ‘Have you ever noticed that…’ comedians?” Jerry had to admit that this was just the sort of comedian he was and of course, anyone who has ever seen Seinfeld knows that the show operated upon the basic device of examining small details about living, loving and having a career in New York City. Maybe I have now seen too many of these shows, but I find myself sometimes noticing odd little things about myself and the city in which I live.

Here is what I have been noticing. If one lives in New York City, one faces a truly terrible temptation, in many small ways, to put oneself first. I suppose that self-priority is part of the human condition, it may even be a definition of original sin. But I think that it is particularly endemic in New York City. Let me tell you what I have noticed about myself. If I have just entered an elevator and spot someone running to catch the same elevator, I will usually look for the button marked “Door Open” and try to hold the elevator for the late arrival. Sometimes, however, it is in a position I do not expect, and sometimes I am not fast enough. And the door closes. And I am secretly glad. Secretly glad that I am on my way regardless of how urgent the mission of the person left behind might be. I know that I will never see that person again—in most cases—and so I will never have to be accountable for not knowing how to hold the elevator.

Or consider the subway platform stride. I have lived in New York City long enough now to know, in many cases, where I need to be on a given subway platform in order to board the arriving train so that I am positioned on arrival near the stairs I need to take in order to get to the street. So, when I enter a subway station, I immediately stride down to the place I need to be. I have noticed that I try to avoid breaking my stride when I am walking—that is true in other circumstances, too, even just general walking on the street. If I have to step around someone, or pass someone, I want to do so without altering the pace of my forward movement.

 

Stride seems all important. I suppose it has something to do with the patterns of things, or with achieving a certain efficiency, but I am not sure how well it accommodates others and my responsibility to be a good neighbor, even if the “neighborhood” is just a subway platform for a few minutes time on a given Thursday afternoon.

Well, we are all people in a hurry. And we are in a hurry because we are busy people juggling many commitments. But I wonder how many times my hastening along to my destination has been interpreted as indifference to those around me, or inconsideration, or detachment

The other thing I have noticed, from time to time, is how different life on the streets of New York can be when we live and act with different priorities. When I see someone stopping to help a gaggle of foreign tourists figure out the subway map, I see another picture of New Yorkers. When I take the time to stop on the streets to respond to someone who asks me for a blessing (which happens more than you might think), I see another version of myself, one which I appreciate more than the person who is glad when the elevator moves on quickly, or when I get myself next to the right staircase in the station.

These thoughts are more than just “slow down and smell the roses.” What I am observing, I think, is something more cosmic. I think that I see something about how we create a city, a community in which we might want to live. And, to the extent that our behavior affects and influences that community, each of us has a role in the creation of that community, the building, or rebuilding of the city. If the whole is the sum of the parts, and each of us is a part of the city, then each of us has a role. I have been observing my own, and perhaps you might engage in the same kind of introspection to some good effect.