They had dreads, chairs, a guitar and two african drums. They walked on the subway and immediately I doggy-eared my book and prepared to be entertained. Nobody else seemed to look up or look excited like I was...I didn't understand this. Yes, I thought, when a homeless person comes on the train and prepares to give their speech about needing money, half of me cowers further into my pages and avoids eye contact. However, it doesn't make sense to me why anyone would dread a little music to brighten up a boring and dirty subway ride. So they sat down and started introducing themselves and asking silly questions to the passengers... some didn't respond, some managed a half smile, and then maybe one other person and I smiled and gave them encouragement. The drummer asked, "Is madness good??" to one woman who was huddled in her fur and texting. She didn't respond so he asked again...(perhaps her winter hat was muffling her ears). But no...she was blatantly ignoring him. He sighed and mentioned how texting is so much more important than everyday manners and with tight pursed lips she shook her head as her cheeks slowly reddened. Why are you blushing? I wanted to demand this of her and make sure it was because she recognized her baffled priorities in life and lack of simple human decency. Yes ma'am, everyone is looking at you. Maybe some similarly minded people are feeling sorry for her and wondering what they would do if some crazy and probably poor black man was badgering them with harmful questions...but I was looking, begging her to look up from her technological world and respond to an artist that was about to entertain her, not guilt her into paying for his 'breakfast' that would actually pay for drugs. So they began to play "Three Little Birds," typical and ALWAYS feel good. He noticed me smiling and threw me a little plastic maraca. I happily shook to the beat and sang along. After it was done hardly anybody clapped. Is it that hard?? So then he went around asking people if they liked it as he also collected money. A simple question. Many pretended not to hear, and one woman blatantly shook her head no. He mumbles, "What a city..." and I give him an apologetic look. I am apologizing for the representation of New York, my race, my species... because somehow, they can't learn how to enjoy a song. HOW? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS CITY? Okay, I respect that some people are under a lot of stress or maybe there is something horrible going on in their lives that is corrupting their soul, emotions, and making them respond negatively to everything. But that is why it is so important to live in the moment. Isn't that what the song is about? "Don't worry, about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright." Because it is...everything works out for the best in the end. But more importantly you should recognize the small and simple delights that pop into your life taking you away from worrying about the future or regretting the past. They are there to make you smile in the present. And if you can't manage that...I don't understand how you can make it through the day...Many people are so stuck in this idea that "New Yorkers are just like that...you see these people everyday, and all they want is money, and I have places to be and things I'm thinking about. I am a New Yorker, it's just how I am." NO! You don't need to fall into this negative stereotype about such a wonderful city. You are, at the core, human. And you are also an individual who can march to whatever drum he or she feels most happy with. Apparently these people cant even manage a smile towards any drum. I left humming the song the entire way home, filled with joy mixed with disappointment. On my way I walked past a heart shaped puddle. How many times do you see that? And how many people on busy Lexington Avenue would even notice it? New York is a beautiful place...but some of the people in it need to empty their puddle hearts and fill them with the heartbeat of a drum. Because honestly... "every little thing, IS gonna be alright."
No comments:
Post a Comment