I've been thinking about posting this for a while, but a recent article pushed me into (delayed) action, and now I fear I may sound like I am copying them. Just remember, they stole the idea from me! The article said that 40,000 Americans who were recently polled voted New York the rudest city in America. I will admit, dozens of people tried to warn me before I moved here, and really anytime I said New York was my favorite place ever, that people were just mean here. Rude, arrogant, dirty, etc. While not everyone in this city is jubilant at all times, there are 8.5 million, so it's a safe bet there are multitudes of both happy and unhappy people.
Have you ever lived here? It's tough. It's flashy and fancy and fabulous, but it is tough. Would you be thrilled to have to carry 7 bags of groceries, or a lamp, or a chair, or a printer, or anything really, several blocks through crowds of people and then up 5 flights of stairs? Forgive us if we aren't peppy when our arms are falling off, or we're soaking wet because its a torrential downpour with high wind-speeds and we don't have cars. Also, it is pretty darn frustrating to not be able to get through to your street because tourists have clogged up the entire place looking at, well, I guess everything. BUT, don't let the seemingly scowling faces fool you.
What I'm about to say may be controversial, but you've got to hear it: New Yorkers are nice people. I have witnessed so many touching acts of kindness in my 4 short months here. People constantly giving up their seats on very crowded subway cars to let a woman, child, or elderly person sit down. Sometimes they give their seats to someone who just looks tired. I can't tell you how many times I have watched a young hippie, or an older gentleman, or a suit-clad stockbroker stop and help a mother carry her child's stroller up the stairs. Every time it brings a tear to my eye, because chances are I had started to judge them on their appearance, and then they go and do something totally unexpected.
Dozens of kind people have started conversations with me just standing at the crosswalk. They make a comment on the wind, or the strange warmth this time of year, and then they ask how my day is going. They don't know me. They don't have to act like they care, but they do it anyway. The teller at my bank is one of the nicest people I've ever met. I live in a city of millions, and she knows me by name. Most of the places I frequent in my neighborhood do. The bank teller in Alabama never tried to learn my name or ask, with genuine care, how my day is going. So don't be quick to judge these Yankees up here!
Yes, not everyone is nice. Yes, there are crazy people here. But you know what? I bet if you looked around your city, you'd find the same mixture of people. We're not so different. The other day, two Swedish women stopped me and asked if I could point them in the right direction. First of all, I was just relieved that I actually knew how to get them to their destination. Second of all, they thought I was a local. So I pointed them the right way, and then I asked how their trip was going and if I could help them in any way. Because that's what New York has taught me.
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