I listened to her talk to the bus driver with a tired voice. She sighed with exhaustion as she took her seat. Her feet hurt from standing all day. Her feet hurt from standing for hours everyday. But now she could rest. This was her routine….her life. Work every minute of the day to make ends meet. She shared stories of the day with the bus driver….how so and so got fired or how so and so didn’t do any work but got promoted. He shared stories about the neighborhood. They must be friends outside of the routine. It’s clear that she works the night shift and wished there were more hours in the day. She also wished she didn’t have to work so hard for so little.
It’s the day before Halloween and New Yorkers are getting ready. There is so much randomness on the trains today. People with half baked costumes are running amuck and you can sense the excitement and happiness in the air. Maybe it’s because we all know that in one day we will be in candy heaven or maybe it’s because we know that on Halloween we can let our alter egos loose to room the New York streets. Regardless, this time of year always makes for a fun subway ride.
It’s a rainy day in New York and I’m staying underground to avoid the puddles and umbrella madness of midtown. I wish I could make it all of the way home without going outside on days like this.
He thumbed through pages of sure thing Hollywood blockbuster. He told everyone who would listen (or who tried to ignore him) how he gold on those pages. He read a few lines out loud and the quickly hushed. “Can’t share to much, don’t know who is on this train!” He went on to explain that some of his movie ideas had been stolen already. Let’s see….. Jurassic Park, that was his. The Matrix, yup that too. Hell, he even said the stole The Godfather from him! Yea…that Godfather! And that’s when all the eyes on the subway did a collective roll. His last words when he left the train… “You’ll see! You’ll see! I’ll be walking the red carpet next year! You just don’t know when you’re sitting next to greatness on a subway car!”.
I’m alone. It’s late Saturday night. The city is a sleep. Or maybe it’s just the underground. It’s crazy to think in a city filled with millions of people that I can find a moment of solitude. I’m tired. It’s a been a long day. I wish I wasn’t here right now. Not at this moment. I wish I was some place else.
I’ve been thinking a lot about fatherhood lately. What it must feel like to hold your own child. To nurture them. To love them. To guide them. I want to know that feeling of unconditional love. I want someone to look at me and know that I can instantly make any pain or whatever is bothering them go away. I want to wipe away tears and share laughs. I want to be a father. The best father in the world one day. I want to follow in the footsteps of others who dispel the myths and stereotypes of the Black Father. You know…what you hear in the media about black fathers not being present in their child’s lives. I know way to many great dads for this to be true…and I just wish it wasn’t such an accepted narrative that someone else created. We live in a cruel world where fairness, justices and simply what’s right is always clouded and often negotiated. One day I want to be able to have “THE” conversation with my child…not the birds and the bees one….the…what it means to grow up black in America one. I’m going to tell them that this world isn’t fair and you just have to better than everyone else. I’m going to them to always hold your head up high. I going to tell how great they are. I’m going to let them know that their future is boundless and we succeed regardless of circumstance.
Today, I admire that father sitting across from me. It’s after 9pm on a Saturday night. He’s taking his kids home. Everyone is exhausted after a long day and even longer life. In the tiny face of his little girl is a look of love and comfort. She is with her dad and it means the world.
It’s funny that on crowded New York subways people can ignore just about anything. African drummers go unnoticed despite their attempts to woo the trapped crowd. Mariachi bands parade through train and people don’t even lift their gaze from the random book or magazine they are reading. And if you’ve ever ridden the subway you know we have a fare share of the mentally challenged (crazy folks!) and even they can be ignored….well at least by most people….but not these two sitting in front of me. I’m ignoring the man making weird sounds with a slightly aggressive posture a few feet away from me. Instead of reading a book or listening to a podcast my focus is on finding image 251. I use the commotion on the train to blend into the background and take my photo for the day.
The sounds of the New York City subway…..there’s just nothing like it. Each day is different. You may get the random mariachi band singing a tune as the skillfully walk through a crowded subway car…or of course you get the kids dancing on the poles with such grace that would make any stripper jealous…or sometimes you’ll get a wide variety of homeless people and hustlers panhandling for change….and today…I got the African drummers!!!! Their drum beats offer the perfect complement to rumbles of the train. They keep the train in rhythm and catch the attention of everyone trying to ignore pulsating sounds. I thought about just grabbing one of the drums and joining the subway sounds….but then I remember…I really can’t play any instrument! Hell…I can’t even fake it well. I let the masters do their thing and sit back and enjoy the sounds.
I wonder what she is thinking. She has a tired and worried look on her face. Maybe she is thinking about home (….wherever that is). Maybe she just had a bad day. Or maybe it’s nothing…just a second of life that could be misunderstood. I shouldn’t read into that solemn look on her face. That stare off into nothingness shouldn’t alarm me or cause me to race through options about her thoughts. It’s just a moment of time…a second frozen forever.
I never take the Long Island Rail Road…but for some reason today I’m making a quick trip to a part of Queens that has me on the LIRR. I feel out of place here. These folks are regular regional commuters. You can see it in the way they navigate this system of endless tracks. You can tell by their commuter swagger they walk around with. They can’t be bothered by someone looking for directions. I know I heard someone chuckle as I looked at the screen in confusion. I’m definitely an outsider in this world…and I don’t like it! Did I mention I also had to switch trains! Who does that! Me…I guess…that’s who. Not sure if I’ll be coming back out here anytime soon. I like my number and letter trains better….and that’s what i’m going to stick to!
One image a day. Documenting life and growing as a photographer in the process.
Day 308 (November 5, 2014) – Brooklyn, NY
Shawn Escoffery Photography - 365 Project 