One good day is not enough
I can still remember the first time I visited New York City. It was in the early 80s, my parents brought us to see a Broadway show. The sounds, smells and the lights assaulted my senses. Time Square was dirtier and seemed a lot more dangerous to me as a teenage boy. I knew then that I would never be a “city person” but that I would also love to experience New York again.
This summer I got back to NYC to spend some time with my oldest son. Jeb had an internship at Mole House Production, an editing and post production film company. He was living in a quirky old building in the East Village area of Manhattan. After spending a morning at MOMA we decided to head up to the southern end of Central park. It was a steamy summer day and we were looking for some shade to sit down and relax for a while. As we focused in on an oasis on a nearby hill we happened upon a man selling maps. The man asked us if we want a map of the park and we politely declined and kept walking, seeking relief from the summer sun. When we felt cooled off enough setting off back toward the exit of the park we once again ran into the same man selling maps.
He asked us if we wanted to buy a map and I told him,
“You know, you already asked us a little while ago.”
He said "I’m sorry I don’t always remember who I’ve seen in a day."
I said “No worries, have a nice day sir”
He replied “Thank you but you have a good life, One good day is not enough.”
This summer I have spent a great deal of time thinking and writing about the world I live in. On more occasions than one I have felt paralyzed with angst and anger, with sadness and despair. I have tried to find meaning in the struggle that we find ourselves involved in as a nation. On many days I have felt helpless, caught between a visceral anger and a nagging knowledge that I can’t make sense of the changing world around me. And some days I just need to be able to express that feeling or those thoughts and not be worried about what it sounds like or whether I have it all figured out. On some days one good day certainly doesn't seem to be enough.
I don’t know how many good days that man selling maps has in a week or a month. I don’t know how many he has had in his lifetime. I don’t know how many good days the folks in Houston recovering from Harvey will need to feel safe again. But I know the wish of having a good life must seem empty to the 800,000 Dreamers living, working and going to school in our country as they see our President call an end to DACA. For that man selling maps, he may in fact need to know, to believe, that we all have the opportunity to have a good life. I can imagine that when you are trying to pull yourself out of poverty and homelessness that one good day is never enough in a string of bad days. And perhaps most importantly to me I saw in those words not only direction but I also saw hope. I’ve seen it in the eyes of the children of the lowest caste in a rural Indian village and I’ve seen it the eyes of complete strangers as I did on that morning. I’ve seen it in my children, my students and my players. We have all seen it countless times. It was me who left Central Park on that morning thinking, it was me who left that rural village moved to tears. Those that had shown me something in a simple turn of a phrase or a look of sincere appreciation were not wanting for explanation.
The funny thing about all of this is that normally I wouldn’t have said anything to the man selling maps. I might not have even engaged him, my tendency, my disposition, my introverted nature pulls me from those interactions. Perhaps it was that I was with Jeb, perhaps it was that I’ve been trying to change this that about me, about my inability to find some comfort staying in the situation, engaging at least to start. But I did reply and I did get something in return and I didn’t buy a map. I know I need to invest more in those moments, those openings with people who are near me and who I encounter. I know I don’t always want to do it and I have started to realize that wants are very different from needs. I need these interactions, we as a community and nation need these connections. I must find that willingness to see something in the simplest phrase or look. We need to see the strength in each others eyes, to find comfort in their smile, to appreciate the gift of someone’s thoughts. I don’t have any answers for you, let alone me this morning. But I do know that navigating the world we live in is especially difficult in the best of times. I do know the work that we have ahead of us in this school and in this country and in this global community will not easy. But it is absolutely needed.
As I learned in my time in India, sometimes when we think we are the least able to help, to turn a bad day into a good one, is when we need to step in. The man in the park helped me realize that sometimes the simplest act of support can turn that moment and perhaps that day for someone else. It did for me. What I do know is that I always leave these moments better than I arrived. And as we think of all of those who are recovering from Hurricane Harvey and put in our thoughts and prayers those in the path of Irma, we also need to remember that no matter the situations we find ourselves our greatest gift in solving difficult situations and finding compassion for someone else is in fact our humanness. It is not our age, position, title or station in life but the mere fact that we can look across that divide that we have imagined and felt and see in the eyes of that person something in us.
So this morning some of us will choose to focus on having a good life and some will choose to focus on having a good day but for all of us, taking those steps to make it happen are what really matter. And as Mr. Bentley said yesterday, there isn’t an app for this. It is human nature, to think, to interact, to think some more, we were born to do it.
Have a wonderful Day!