A ride on the train

It is a strange thing humanity. Today on the train home I witnessed the intolerable cruelty of privilege. Two realities of young men playing out in either direction of me. The first a young man clearly homeless, his dinner was a bag of Swedish fish. He was clearly hungry, distressed, dirty, and hurting. I don’t know his story or his pain. It was palpable. He had laid back in the train seat with his feet on the seat. A well-dressed man coming home from the Rockies game turned and said to him “put your feet down I can smell them, they stink!” The young man put his feet down and continued to eat his Swedish Fish. At the very next stop the young man hurriedly got off the train. The well dressed man looked down into the seat and said “what an asshole!” Little did he know that he had spilled his tea.

As a mother witnessing this, my heart sank. I have children, and that young man could have been my child.

You could tell the well-dressed man had never wanted for anything. The young man who got off the train was clearly humiliated. While this was happening a group of Rockies fans got on the train and pushed a young brown man. In defiance and wanting the same treatment that his fellow train riders expected—maybe even demanded—was met with criticism. A woman kept telling him to let it go. Yelling never works. I stood there paralyzed not knowing what exactly to do.

This lesson would repeat itself over and over until I finally got it. What should we do when we see incredible cruelty. The answer is simple, be kind. Give up my spot. Sit by the young man. Be kind.