City Kid
Chapter 1: The walk sign is on, on 23rd Street
My 5-year-old legs do their best to keep up with my Dad. Destination: M23 bus stop. We’d wait for the “walking man” to flash. Then, from somewhere up above the recorded voice with the very definite New York accent would boom: “The wawk sign is awn, awn Tweny-Turd Street. The wawk sign is awn, awn Tweny-Turd Street”. There were also the frantic days…when we could see the bus, but we were still a block away. This resulted in serious determination and a full-speed sprint, sprinkled with a bit of mild dad cursing. We were going to catch that bus. Most days, we did.
Chapter 2: Stand clear of the closing doors.
I begged for months to be allowed to ride the Q train to school by myself. Finally, four days after my 13th birthday, the monumental day arrived. I swiped my green student MetroCard and boarded the train solo. Ahhh, sweet freedom! I was sure to follow the rules: Let passengers out first. Hold your backpack on your lap. Ignore the random screaming people. Not going to lie. My maiden voyage from 96th Street down to 14th Street was exhilarating. I was free! In the following weeks, I’ll admit that I may have gotten lost in the Hamilton soundtrack and missed my stop once…ok, twice. And that third time, I may have mistakenly landed out in Brooklyn, but I never panicked.
Chapter 3: I’m heading out, bye! I have rehearsal. Be home around six!
I’ve walked to school on my own since 9th grade. That walk is my daily reset. If I’ve gotten no sleep, I’m stressed about a test, or I am nervous about auditions, that two-block, three-avenue walk has the power to give me a full factory reboot. I tend to take the same path, but am sometimes swayed by the call of a good doughnut. (Pro-tip: Doughnut Pub has the best glazed cronut.) My headphones are an important part of my journey. Artists like Sabrina Carpenter and Dolly Parton are my hype men as I strut across Union Square to the beat of “Fast Times” or “9 to 5”. And sometimes I need the entire cast of Funny Girl telling me that “I’m the Greatest Star” to get me pumped for my day.
My walk is more colorful on Mondays and Fridays - these are Union Square Greenmarket days. On cold mornings, bundled in my snowboarding jacket, I love to buy a $1 cup of apple cider and say a quiet thank you to the farmers willing to get up in the wee hours of the morning and drive the fruits of their labor (literally!) to the city before the crack of dawn.
On Wednesdays, it’s my turn to wake up at the crack of dawn for 7 am for rock climbing. It’s the only time I experience non-bustling Manhattan. The silent streets always strike me as odd, like I’m walking on a movie set that’s wrapped for the day or in a painting with no color added yet.
These three chapters - being pulled along, braving the subway, and finally walking on my own - shaped me into the city girl I’m proud to be. Missed the bus? Another one will be here soon. Subway rerouted? Stay calm and get off at the next stop. Overslept? Choose an upbeat song and hustle.
Now that I have some perspective, I know that the walk with my Dad to the bus gave me a good, solid start with support. The subway years were like my first snowboarding run - thrilling, bumpy, and occasionally terrifying. But now I can confidently say my favorite mode of transportation is my own two feet - I choose my path. I choose my pace. I choose my soundtrack.
The walk sign is on. I’m ready.