(Not) Burned by New York

It's absolutely easier to give up than to keep your chin up, and it seems that for a lot of people in this city, it's easier to get negative than to be positive. It's easy to complain about things, wherever you are or whatever you do, than it is to be an uplifting influence on the people around you.

For people prone to complaining, it won't matter much where they are living, what kind of work they're doing, or what kind of money is in their pocket - they'll find complaints about their community, their work, and their income. If their community, their work, and their income aren't worth complaining enough about, they'll find something else to complain about, but one thing is for sure - complainers will find something to complain about. Likewise, excuse makers will find reasons why other people are succeeding where they are not.

People here in Brooklyn have identified me pretty immediately in most cases as a Midwesterner. Ohio is the most common assumption so far. Missouri isn't too far from Ohio culturally, so I guess they aren't too far off. I have the neutral Midwestern accent and the wide eyes that mark me as an outsider. When I'm optimistic about my career (even though I don't have a full time job yet) or about my personal life, the usual response is something more or less along the lines of, "you just haven't been burned by New York yet."

To be fair, that may be the case, but I stubbornly choose to believe that it's not the case at all.

I believe in the power of our thoughts to determine our future, and when I decided to stay in New York, I committed myself to not allowing the city to harden me. I hope that ten years from now, people still think I'm not from NY and that I "just haven't been burned yet" by it.

New York is the kind of city that lifts up dreams and makes them seem achievable. It's the kind of city that gives hope, but also takes it away. It's true that New York hasn't "burned" me yet, but it's also true that I have made a commitment to myself and to the people around me not to allow it to.

Our happiness and our attitudes in life are our own responsibilities. In my New York life, as in other areas of my life, I am determined to seek out the positive and the uplifting, so that in turn I have an emotional fuel tank that's filled to the brim. New York, and nothing else in life, will "burn" me. Complainers and excuse makers are "burned", and I'm neither of those things.

Plastic Bags

"If it's possible, I'd like to just put these things inside my bag and save the plastic."

I said this to the clerk at the Atlantic-Pacific Target.

I had heard that this was the single most profitable Target in America. I had been in the store a half-dozen times since moving to New York, and each time my purchases had been double-bagged. If this was the most profitable Target in America, the sheer number of plastic bags the store must go through depressed me.

I understand the basic economic principle - or rather, I vaguely remember my graduate economics instruct trying to make me understand the basic economic principle - that says that one single person, economically speaking, does not make a difference.

One person driving a hybrid car (my professor's example) will not make a positive impact on the environment. A critical mass is needed to leverage change and create impact.

Clearly, in the busiest Target in America, I cannot save the earth by saving a few plastic bags. My economics professor in grad school taught me this. My optimistic integrity however, says otherwise.

And so I asked the girl working the register if she could please save the plastic bags and let me put my purchases down inside my own shoulder bag.

"Okay," said the girl.

As she scanned each item and placed it on the counter in front of me, I began loading my bag with my purchases. I had been careful to only purchase what would fit inside my bag. She finished scanning my things, so I inserted my check card into the card reader and waited as the machine prompted me through Target's normal check card purchase questions:

"Please enter your pin." it said.

"xxxx" I typed.

"Your total is $34.76. Is this okay?" it asked.

"Yes."

"Would you like cash back?" it asked.

"No."

"Thank you."

At which point I reached for the last of my purchases; a box of crackers, a pair of pantyhose and a pair of gel shoe insoles, to see that while I had scanned my check card, the girl at the counter had bagged the items for me.

"If it's alright, I can just put those down in my bag" I said.

"Oh. Well, here you go."

"I was just trying to save some plastic. Can I at least give you one of the bags back?"

"Sure," she said.

She took the second plastic bag from me, and she threw it in the trash. Defeated, I turned and walked away.