“Civility costs nothing, and buys everything.”
– Mary Wortley Montagu: 17th Century Poet
The car of the London Underground (transit system) between Heathrow and Leicester Square in London’s West End was completely full with a couple of dozen people standing in the aisles and groups congregating in the open spaces by the doors…think sardines. At each stop, people got off and more people seemed to get on.
An older woman squeezed her way onto the train at Turnham Green, standing with the crowd just inside the door. A young lad, head bobbing to the secret sounds coming from his iPhone and tunneling their way into the inner sanctum of his mind, stared vacantly off into space. For some reason, his eyes focused for a moment and he saw the woman packed tightly by the group in which she was standing.
The boy got her attention and waved her over to his seat. As she moved toward him, he got up and she sat gratefully down. These cars are loud as they clack their way under and over the ground. She smiled and mouthed thank you. He smiled back, grabbed the overhead railing, unfocusing his eyes, returning to the mental space he had momentarily left. Three stops later he made his way through the crowded aisle, slipped out the door and faded into the departing crowd.
I was impressed as I watch this. It seemed like an aberration of kindness in the hustle-bustle world that carries such a large volume of people in London's underground.
How nice, I thought and returned to people watching.
In the course of the forty-five minute trip into the city, I saw this act repeated several times. Men and women, young to middle age, giving up their seats for someone they perceived needed it more than they. There was no show about it, but sometimes it looked like it had been choreographed. An older person would get on and in synchrony, as if timed and planned, the younger person would get up milliseconds before the elder sat...a glance being all it took to initiate the dance.
My hotel was at Heathrow, so I made this trip each day for the three days I was in London. Every day, people gave their seats not only on crowded portions of the trip, but also when the trains had fewer people, meaning all the seats taken, but not so many folks filling the aisles or congregating by the doors. It was refreshing to see these small random acts of kindness. It was a reminder, in this growing ‘me first’ society, there is an innateness lying within that reflects our better angels.
Watching people is a pastime that keeps me engaged when traveling. For this reason, riding public transport is something I greatly enjoy. I used to see people reading the newspaper or a book as they created a small mental compartment to inhabit while in transit. Nowadays with the advent of smartphones, many appear to be doing things on their screens. Others just clutch them apparently for comfort like the blanket holding Linus Van Pelt in the Charlie Brown cartoons. These folk assume the distant and existentially vacant stare.
It is hard to know what they are thinking. Maybe the rhythmic rocking of the cars puts them into a trance. Maybe they’re planning their day or dinner or contemplating the state of world politics. Maybe they are just taking the time to entertain the bliss of not having to talk anyone about anything.
That being said, there are people who listen to their inner radar alerting them there is someone in need. It was heartwarming to see, that in spite of an increasingly disappointing environment of social disconnect and isolation, there remain those folk who respond to the innate human need to be actively engaged with one another…even if it’s just sharing a seat.
- ted
No comments:
Post a Comment