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January 16, 2020
“When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” – John Muir.
“I was a… rootless man of the world. I could go, belong, everywhere on the worldwide globe.” – Edward K. Braithwaite.
In 1975 I was a recent immigrant, a new student at Brooklyn College, when, since one of my professors stressed the importance of current events, I undertook to learn to fold and read the New York Times on my long subway trips. Other commuters–many of whom would get off at the Wall Street and Bowling Green stops—reading their origami-folded Wall Street Journal and the NY Times with ease made me wonder if I would ever be able to do the same with such mastery.
Such impeccable posture eluded me for quite some time. Whenever I felt brave enough to try the fold, the broadsheet would collapse in my face, sometimes intruding on the space of other commuters. Not having quite mastered the “skill of balancing civility with aggression,” I had a few embarrassing moments–one of which almost led to a near-altercation with a ‘territorial’ rider. Until, one day, on a non-rush-hour train, I finally achieved the fold!
Since my go-to paper then, especially for news on the Black Experience, was not as bulky, I had no difficulty reading the Daily Challenge over three or four stops on my hour-and-a-half long, one-way, underground journey.
After that, I’d inevitably reach for the Times on my daily subway trips to school and work, rather than being distracted by the intermittent tragic, comedic parade of characters –or the Walkman, which later competed for my attention. And sometimes, even though entertained and enlivened by underground artists such as the late Jeffrey (Sighting) Antoine–with his signature tenor pan–and other indigenous performers seemingly transforming, in Derek Walcot’s estimation, “the theatrical into theatre,” I’d read in the carriage or on the subway platform sometimes with the sounds of steel as a backdrop and surround sound. Indeed, even when sandwiched between straphangers and not having a seat, I read, holding the paper in one hand, with my other hand clutching the subway pole as my knapsack rested snugly on my shoulder.
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Subtle Sounds of Steel in the Subway
Yet, in 1984, when I changed jobs from mid-town Manhattan to work in an NYC public school in Brooklyn–where I resided–I became an unabashed automobile commuter. Although the subway was just seventy-five cents compared to the higher cost of driving, I abandoned my ten-year, love-hate relationship with the subway for the automobile.
This preference stayed with me when I moved to New Jersey in the mid-1990s and continued throughout my working career in Brooklyn and the Bronx. However, public transportation only recently re-entered the equation when, while pondering the toll increases on the George Washington Bridge and the impending introduction of congestion pricing, I discovered the ease of traveling to Manhattan via New Jersey Transit buses.
Click here for Part II: Engaging an Underground Subculture of Reading.
*The author thanks Kim Johnson, Kanene Holder, Lennel George, Jonathan Molofsky, Roger Toussaint, and Josh Tyson-Fermin for critical comments on an earlier draft.
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Winthrop R. Holder, an emancipated NYC High School Teacher, writes on the intersection of popular culture and literature/philosophy and is the author of Classroom Calypso: Giving Voice to the Voiceless (Peter Lang, 2007).
The description of your journey via the subway system reminded me of my first trip on the subway. It was so different from what I had experienced in my country – traveling … above ground.
There were great benefits that you have attained: obtaining your degree, going on to be a teacher. Just to think that these benefits derived from a simple assignment to read the paper on a daily basis
Louise Rougier on January 24, 2020 at 11:41 pm
l totally identify with all aspects of the underground commute and commuters in the eighties; I received lots of advice in my initiation as a new subway rider, including warnings from friends and family members. My favorite was, ‘no eye contact with anyone, especially the hard cold people that were some of the subway riders’. Yet these warnings faded quickly. The subway became like a second home; a familiar neighborhood with a silent comradery which gave me a warm and comfortable feeling. While the men read their folded newspapers the ladies heads would be buried in one of the NY bestsellers; if you looked up for a second, you would see a large percentage of women reading the same book and might share a smile from something we just read. Most ladies might remember: Lucky (Jackie Collins), Changes (Danielle Steele) or Hollywood wives (Jackie Collins). These books made for a quick and enjoyable ride; sometimes we would even miss our stops being so enthralled in our fantasy world. No electronic devices for us, we were proud to show our book covers. I ask the question; have we evolved for the better or worse?
Louise Rougier
l totally identify with all aspects of the underground commute and as a commuter in the eighties, I received lots of advice in my initiation as a new subway rider, including warnings from friends and family members. My favorite was, ‘no eye contact with anyone, especially the hard-cold people that were some of the subway riders’. Yet these warnings faded quickly. The subway became like a second home; a familiar neighborhood with a silent comradery which gave me a warm and comfortable feeling. While the men read their folded newspapers, the ladies heads would be buried in one of the NY bestsellers; if you looked up for a second, you would see a large percentage of women reading the same book and might share a smile from something we just read. Most ladies might remember: Lucky (Jackie Collins), Changes (Danielle Steele) or Hollywood wives (Jackie Collins). These books made for a quick and enjoyable ride; sometimes we would even miss our stops being so enthralled in our fantasy world. No electronic devices for us, we were proud to show our book covers. I ask the question; have we evolved for the better or worse?
Community can exist and be built anywhere: a truth that this article vividly articulates in transporting any subway denizen back to the beauty of long train commutes. As an 80’s kid who rode the subway, I can recall the shared camaraderie of seeing someone completely different from me reading the same paper and this author provides a wonderful window to a time of small shared moments at the heart of subway life and the real life public education it provides.
This article brought up my own experiences of riding the train to school and work as a young adult in NYC in the 1990s-2000s. I looked forward to getting on the 4 at Utica taking it all the way to 86th st. Why, because it meant I got a seat and could read, uninterrupted for at least 45 mins. While I traversed the Brooklyn to Manhattan underground my reading experiences took me to fabled times and places, allowed me to sit with the likes of Homer, Dostoyevsky, Allende, Coelho, Morrison and many others. I received a parallel degree in literature while I earned a high school diploma and later a masters degree. Though warned about its filth, grime and crime, one realizes that beneath all of that lies a most precious gift, that of time.