A Love (Hate) Letter to the Subway

For every New Yorker born somewhere else, there is a moment when you transition from transplant to true New Yorker. The day the guy at the bagel shops starts your order as you walk in the door. Or maybe learning for yourself that “anything is better than that 1 train”. For me, I became a New Yorker when riding the subway became second nature, no map needed. I grew to love the beautiful, disgusting and vast world in the way that only a true New Yorker can.

Nothing unites New Yorkers more than griping about rents and loving to hate the subway system. Like all relationships, ours with the subway is a complicated one. It’s a love-hate affair. We are married to its convenience, proud of its history, and frustrated with its shortcomings. Obnoxious buskers, day-ruining delays emblematic of the city’s dysfunction and the stage for all sorts of depravity that we learn to tune out. But there is so much to love; its boundless convenience, our access to cultures from across the globe in neighborhoods now minutes away, and round the clock service which is unprecedented world wide. Our home subway station is our entry to this subterranean world of possibilities and third space where we try our hand at subway karma roulette every single day.

Few things are as dependable as your hometown station. It’s not going anywhere, it is almost definitely open and most definitely not being cleaned. At your hometown station you know the real train times, not the wishful thinking time table posted online. You enter at the same staircase, angle for the same turnstile, weave through the crowd, instinctively moving toward the favorite spot on the platform, knowing exactly where to stand. Boarding here will deposit you at the foots of the staircase upon your arrival, like magic. You know the entrance to avoid, where the arrival boards are hiding and where you are guaranteed to get a seat. These are lessons learned through a hundred bleary eyed commutes. There are plenty of grievances to air but also so much to appreciate. Our stations are time capsules to the decade they were built, the latest construction technology and the urban architecture of the time. If you take a moment to look you will be overwhelmed with the variety, beauty and complexity of the engineering marvel and the architectural flourishes alike. New Yorkers already know this, most take it for granted.

My hometown station is the newly built, much contested, and long awaited 72nd Street 2nd Ave station. It’s unnecessarily massive, overengineered and the de facto example of MTAs planning and managerial failures. But it’s also a grand testament to the city's ambitions and self image. The 2nd Ave Subway pays homage to the simplistic beauty of the original NYC subway with the flourishes of a 21st-century train station. Last of all, it works, moving tens of thousands of riders a day.

I have an extra special relationship with this station. I worked for the company hired for its construction. I joined the team after the station opened to finalize the project and complete the last-minute tasks left unfinished. I saw first hand the decades of pride and dedication that went into making this a reality.

Whenever I find myself waiting 12 minutes for a train with 10 minute spacing - a frustration New Yorkers know all too well - I remember to appreciate living in a city with such a vast subway system. The subway system can sometimes make us question why we chose to live in such an inhospitable place but we couldn't imagine living anywhere else. The subway is what makes our city truly New York and us who brave it daily truly New Yorkers.

So this Monday morning, appreciate the ugly beauty of your home station. Listen to the sounds of the station— rumble of an approaching train, murmur of conversations, the guy butchering Karaoke. For those lucky enough to have a bodega in the station, stop by and say hello to the “bossman” behind the counter. Guaranteed that guy is as frustrated with the Knicks as you are. Appreciate the time capsules hiding in plain sight: crown molding, mosaics, and ornate iron work. Our subways are dirty, loud and confusing but they are also deeply beautiful and integral to our great city. Take a moment, look around but whatever you do, dont smell the roses.