Unpopular opinion: I love airports. While many bemoan long waits in security lines, inconveniencing delays or wailing babies for neighbors, I associate these meccas of air travel with a borderline-giddy sense of joy. They are gateways of wanderlust, doorways to new experiences, foods, people and places. The overpriced coffee, unmatchable people-watching and crappy (but free) WiFi live in a hazy romanticized realm of almost-reality, a special combination of memory and expectation that makes me anticipate my next TSA visit with unnecessary and inappropriate levels of eagerness.
At any given airport, every traveler will eventually disperse across the globe, but for a moment, hundreds of lives headed in different directions intersect; at no other time does the same unique and random combination of people connect in a singular point. We interact with strangers we would never otherwise meet in the intimate and communal act of traveling. Airports necessitate sharing- of seats, outlets and time- forcing us outside of ourselves to consider the others who surround us. Though we may only carry one ticket, no one travels alone. Together we make ourselves vulnerable, especially in an age of terrorism and fear, all in the quest to be or see somewhere new. We trust in a delicate balance of man and machine to safely lift a glorified school-bus-with-wings off the ground, send it hurtling through the air and return its passengers’ feet squarely on the ground. Airports chronicle a rare and choice dynamic of interconnection that is quickly falling prey to the disconnect of social media and political and cultural division.
At every gate an adventure is starting, be it a long-saved-for vacation, a honeymoon or family reunion, a return home. Everyone is starting a journey, one that will affect them in some way. The destination may be anticipated with excitement or trepidation, but it is undeniably a different place than where you started. Air travel might defy gravity, but it is completely susceptible to a different force of nature: possibility. When the wheels leave the tarmac, in the nanosecond of perfect balance between flight and fall, a whole world of opportunity is opening. This could be the trip you discover a new passion, fall in love or fall apart. There are no guarantees, and that risk makes the thrill of travel even more tangible.
Airports encapsulate the best of modernity. From little acts of kindness between passengers to the impressiveness of contemporary technology, boarding gates witness unique displays of connection in an era ruled by a headphones-in, hood-up, head-down mentality. Unpopular opinion: I love airports. And you should too.
