There's just something about New York. We’ve heard the phrase passed through the lips of friends, family members, mentors, and strangers – and yet, the impact of the statement never seems to lose its punch. It’s the fondest string of six words I’ve ever come to know, because simply put, I agree. There's just something about New York.
But what is it exactly that draws us in? Is it the allure of the lights? The coquettish atmosphere of the night? The evolvement of unattainable to tangible? Perhaps it’s the ongoing movie filming around every corner? Or the omnipresent allusion of endless possibilities?
For myself, I attribute pieces of all these elements to my admiration for the city. It’s the feeling I get when I walk into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and think, I wonder if Adam Sandler has ever sat in this same cracked leather booth, drinking from this same charcoal-colored coffee cup?
Occasionally I’ll find myself deep in thought over the subject. I wonder how it is that we aren’t all drawn to the city life. However, I’ve come to accept and know the truth, that many aren’t. And although I’m partial to the Big Apple, I am not so blind as to be unsympathetic. I understand that for some people, it’s a hard place to love: there is traffic, clutter, pollution, and a lot of people (though I’ll never be the one to go knocking New Yorkers, because personally, I admire their devotion to their sports teams, their outspoken tendencies, and their abilities to conjure up witty punch-lines on a whim).
Because that’s just part of the culture, and now some people either love it, or they just don’t. And that’s okay, but I’m not one of those people who walk into the city and immediately look to run back. I’m the one who wants to know every corner, every street, and every sign.
I’m infatuated with New York. I adore it like an allusive dream, one I know well, but not one I know how to capture. And unfortunately, I cannot call myself a native New Yorker – I mean, this is New York City I’m talking about. So, as one may presume or gather, not many can.
New York’s a tall drink of water with an expensive price tag, but of course, that doesn’t mean people won’t desire it. It’s the city where dreams come true, where people are discovered, and no-names become staple names. And believe me when I say, I still aspire to get myself there. I really, really do. It’s not just compelling, it’s provoking, awakening – and it’s where I picture my future unfolding.
It’s the place I want to have a favorite coffee shop, dirty-water hot dog cart, and magazine-stand salesman. I crave it like the extra spark I never knew I needed. It’s the atmosphere, the energy, the idea of it all – once you experience it for the first time, it’s just always there, lingering in the back of your mind. There's just something about New York.
And though I am partial, there’s just something about New York that keeps me pushing through my studies. Through my late-night articles set on tight deadlines, through my writer’s block, through my 17-stanza poems and my open-ended short stories – the possibilities that lie in New York push me through the thoughts of, "Will someone ever think this is worth reading?" or "Will anyone ever read this?"
When I feel there’s no solution to my story, no time to piece something together worth reading, I think of New York. I think of myself in some high-rise building in the middle of the city, pumping out features for The New Yorker or Billboard Magazine.
I think to myself, I’ll be one step closer. One step closer to The New York Times; I’ll be one step closer to Billboard Magazine. In this very moment, I am becoming more qualified for my dream job, so yes, this assignment is absolutely worth my time, my effort and my all.
Some may call my thought-process ridiculous, others far-fetched. However, I recognize the truth of the matter, that someone has to make it. Someone has to write for The New York Times’ music section. Someone needs to pitch ideas to Seventeen's board of staff writers. Someone needs to cover the riots that break out on 5th Avenue after a group of petitioners trip over a man’s $1,000 briefcase. You know, someone has to do it.
They’re little steps, but inevitably necessary in the refining process. And I believe there’s no such thing as ‘too-humble’ a beginning.
And although I’m sure I’ve appeared blissfully unaware and optimistic of my future, you all should know that I am fully aware of the prospects. I’m not so star-struck as to ignore the reality of how hard it is to make it in a place like New York, or as a writer in general.
I am aware of the poverty. I am aware of the people on the streets playing out of guitar cases for their next meals. I am aware of the likely and real possibilities of failure, of competition, and I am aware that it is a tough route to take.
But I am also aware of this simple fact: those people went for it. They are there, doing what they love, pursuing the dreams they still rightfully claim as their own.
They are real people with real aspirations in a city where real dreams are fulfilled – and some may call that unrealistic, but I call it devotion. And motivation, and hope, and passion – and I think this world needs a nice, refreshing dose of that every once in a while.
So to all those who are struggling to keep pursuing their passion as they grow older, let me say this: I am with you. I want the hole-in-the-wall coffee shops and the passionate street performers, the atmosphere of a newsroom in a skyscraper, and the people on the streets that slap me with the much-needed reminder that there is no such thing as ‘too-humble’ a beginning.
New York is a place for passionate people, and New York is not alone. Attempt to overlook my underlying melodramatic cliché when I say this, but this country and this world are in need of passionate people.
You have to be experienced; you have to save your money, work your way up (and then you’ll have to save some more money again), but then, dive in. It’s not a race to see who can get where first, but a process. It’s a process that, as college students, we need to recognize and respect.
We do need the experience, and the internships, and the money to make a living, but also remember - we need to dream big. One day, someone, somewhere, will be needed for the position of our dream job.
We need to be passionate, experienced and willing to work. We need to believe in our abilities, and we need to believe in the possibility of something bigger than ourselves. We all need goals (and not just the kind that appear behind a hash-tag on social media), so don’t give up on yourself. Shoot for your dream job. Shoot for the stars. Shoot for your New York.
