There's something special that my dad does when he sees someone holding a cardboard sign asking for help on a street corner. If there's a red light and he can stop, my dad rolls down his car window and talks to the person. He doesn't always give them money; he might not have cash or he just doesn't feel comfortable doing so. What he wants to do is just talk to them. He asks how they're holding up, what they used to do for a living, or what they hope to accomplish in the future. Mundane things. But he looks them in the eye and makes sure they know they're seen.

I am extremely fortunate to have never experienced homelessness or destitution of any kind, but many have. Panhandling has become a typical - and often expected - sight in cities, and not even major ones. Unfortunately, it becomes a little easier to look past because of that. We've all heard "ignorance is bliss" a thousand times, and that remains the case. If you ignore it, look past it, don't see it, it's not your problem. If you separate yourself from it, it's like it doesn't exist.

But thankfully, every once in a while, something happens that makes you look up. Makes you see.

I returned a few weeks ago from a month's visit to New York City to study art history. Being in NYC pretty much means you rely on the MTA for everything. The subway is the most popular form of travel and therefore the busiest. Rush hour is just as real underground as it is for above ground, only with people instead of cars. Because it's so busy, everyone is rushing to sidestep clumps of slower people and make it to their train before anyone else even though everyone else is doing the exact same. It's easy to plow forward, look no one in the eye and hope no one tries to stop you for any reason.

I don't remember why I was looking up and around instead of just straight ahead one afternoon after class, but I was. Hurrying to catch the Queensbound N train was the name of the game, but something made me stop in my tracks. I have to run around an awkward and sharp corner before I get to an escalator and there's nary a sight to be seen on a normal day. But this day....this day was different.

A man was sitting on a piece of cardboard with a jacket draped over his crossed legs. His walking stick leaned on the wall beside him. From what I could tell, the gentleman was blind. But the young man sitting next to him was what really made the picture interesting. Judging by appearances, the guy was your average millennial. Cutoffs, Converse, glasses, and a backpack. But he'd stopped intentionally to speak to the homeless man, going so far as to take off his backpack and sit next to him. The two were engaged in a serious and lengthy conversation as far as I could tell. There were mentions of the homeless man's life story and a genuine desire from the young guy to help out his new friend, should the man want any help.

Honestly, the words exchanged were for the two of them only and I really didn't need to hear what was said to find the scene riveting. What was important was that a stranger saw another stranger and felt the need to let them know they mattered. That they were seen. Seen as a human, seen as someone of worth, seen as someone of interest.

My first thought was that I needed to take a picture. It took a while to get one because I didn't want anyone else in the frame and it was, tragically, rush hour. But I got to observe their very focused conversation for a minute before I had to walk away. I have no idea how long they'd talked before I saw them or how much longer they sat together after I walked away, but I couldn't help but feel lighter, not to mention much more thoughtful, on my way home. I'd seen someone act on genuine care and concern for their fellow human being -- how can you not feel hope after that?

I guess there are a lot of ideas in that story that I could touch on, but I think the one that matters right now is this: people have gotten used to ignoring. People have also gotten used to being ignored. That picture reminded me of the power of seeing. We need to look up and see our friends, our parents, our siblings, the people we pass on our 11:35 walk to Math Concepts on Wednesday or SOMETHING. We have to see the people beside us. The world gets tired and empty with just ourselves inside our heads. Way too many studies have shown that when you give something of yourself to another person, when you reach outside of yourself to give another person a smile or a hand to help, both individuals are happier. Not just after the fact, but during too. Imagine what would happen to the world if more people started trying that once a day? Even two times? Like WHOA.

This isn't to say "sit next to every single homeless person you see" or "try to catch the eye of every stranger you pass so you can flash your pearly whites at them". It isn't that complicated or creepy. It's just looking around and treating each person you interact with like they matter. To you, right then, and in general. And every once in a while, doing the same with a stranger.

To cut out the risk of sounding like a self-help book, I need to do this way more myself. I'll miss chances all the time because I'm not perfect, but this takes practice. The thing is, it's worth practicing.

That said, hey, you! You matter. You're loved. Now go and make sure someone else knows that too.