Anyone who has spent time in the Bay Area knows what BART is all about. BART is nothing else but the Bay Area Rapid Transit service in Northern California. Every day, commuters rely on BART to get to work in the morning and come home at the end of the day. When I first came to the Bay Area, I noticed how BART is one of those places where people of all walks of life cross paths—even if only for a few minutes.
After a long day at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance, I found myself in one of those crossroads. It had been my first day at the conservatory and my body was exhausted from the nine hours of ballet, contemporary dance, and improvisation classes. I felt my feet swelling in my sneakers as I stood on the train ride home. My legs ached and slumped over to one hip for some rest. My brain wanted to drift out of focus after taking in so much information from the day, but I didn’t feel that was the best way to stay alert in a large city. This is not to say my day was a chore. It felt incredible to focus and continue to hone my craft throughout the day, but the amount of stamina it required felt like a curve ball. I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pity for myself as the forty minute commute began.
The train pulled out of the station filled with commuters making their way home at the end of another day of work. I started to situate my headphones to try to decompress with music, but something pulled me to watch my fellow passengers. Nothing particular caught my eye in the moment, but something made me want to look at each of their faces a little more closely. As I noticed the type of glasses each person wore or the amount of jewelry on each wrist, I wanted to know more about their lives—their stories. Did they work in an office building off of Market Street or did they walk near Union Square in the morning? Were they an accountant or did they work in retail? Do they have a family to feed when they get home? Looking at each one of them with a little more care made me realize they these weren’t only people in my same car on the train, but that they had lived. They had spouses and children to come home to. They had to make dinner, go to bed and be up early for the next day of work. They had mouths to feed and bills to pay.
Their faces told me that they too were fatigued and had feet that ached. Each of our minds wanted to zone out from the outside world and find some refuge in our music and Facebook feed. We were in each other’s lives for just a little bit during that ride and continued on separate journeys at our respective stops. Despite our different stories, we were all there in that car at 6:00. It was a fairly brief moment in the grand scheme of life, but in that moment I saw faces instead of blurs.
They were something much more. It was impossible to ignore a familiar light gleaming in their eyes. Each of us was individuals living out own daily lives, yet it was not until that moment did I recognize the compassion and understanding possible between us.
Our lives are filled with individuals who pass through and make their mark. We do the same to them. These people I happened to ride with that day impacted my own life. They taught me that if we chose to take a moment and notice our surroundings, it would be impossible to see others as anything less than the incredible human beings they are. Together we share joys and challenges and together we can push forward.
