The Wake

Some say that after you’ve lived in the Big Apple for five years you can be considered a true New Yorker. I’m not sure if that’s true because in all honesty, I’ve only had the opportunity to spend five days there. I do think it’s safe to say that those five days changed my whole outlook on life and society.

I traveled to New York for a journalism convention — the Society of Professional Journalists’ annual national convention to be exact. I expected to leave with new passion for my developing career, with new insight into the changing world of information technology and a heightened awareness of issues that face the media today. Not only did I walk away with all of these things, but also I learned about fast paced life in the big city, what “Minnesota Nice” truly means and a lot about a city still mourning the loss of thousands of people.

The streets of New York City are always crowded and noisy, the hustle and bustle of business people leaving the office, the click and clack of expensive shoes hitting the pavement, the incessant honking of yellow cabs that line the streets, the rumble of the subway below and the shouts of modern day newsies selling the latest edition of the city news. It truly is the city that never sleeps. One quickly learns that obeying traffic signals are merely an option. True New Yorkers take three steps into the street and run across, just barely missing a cab speeding by. Tourists wait patiently on the curb until the traffic light reads “walk.” Real New Yorkers spend their evenings at the theater or ballet, an expensive restaurant or a ritzy club. Tourists head to Madame Tussaud’s wax museum for an afternoon of culture, then dine at the Hard Rock Café, and finally head to Times Square to take pictures of the tall illuminated buildings. Real New Yorkers spend their Saturday afternoons shopping on Fifth Avenue. What’s more, they can actually afford such pastimes. I, on the other hand, took the subway to Chinatown to check out the “hot merchandise” peddled by street merchants. It was kind of like Fifth Avenue — except shadier.

Another thing I learned about New Yorkers is that they are pushy and loud. Not like Gopher fans trying to catch a bus to the Dome on a Saturday night. It’s different than that. With the flick of the wrist and an ear-shattering whistle they can hail any cab. They push past you on the sidewalk and walk into your beautiful, touristy photos. They catch the train as it’s pulling away. They know that you are not one of them because you smile and nod as you walk past. They can smell “Minnesota Nice.” It’s true—it really does exist. It’s that urge to start a friendly conversation with someone in the elevator or seated next to you on the subway, it’s the “thank you” you offer to the barista who made your $5.00 latte. It’s that feeling that you must laugh at their joke — funny or not. It’s that wholesome Midwestern goodness we all have, whether we know it or not.

On the morning of Saturday September 11t, the streets and the people became quiet and somber. The normally busy financial district of lower Manhattan transformed into an area of thoughtful remembrance. Flowers and messages left for those who lost their lives lined the fences that enclose “ground zero.” The scene was similar to that of four years ago, the same sorrowful tears remained on many people’s faces; the confusion and anxiety still remain for many. Although the tears remain the people of New York are healing. Dust no longer permeates the air, all of the debris have been removed and construction has begun and once again. New Yorkers are a strong breed of human.

I really admire New York City and all who live there. I admire the city’s strength and character. I admire the fast paced and flashy lifestyle. I was truly fascinated watching people move about the city. I wanted to know their stories and to hear about their lives. I yearned to be one of the thousands enjoying a peaceful afternoon in Central Park. I left wanting to be a part of it all.