Red Line

Today, I was on the El. Taking the red line from Jackson to Fullerton, the only thing on my mind was lunch. Would I have a hot dog or a cheeseburger once I got to the student center? Or maybe chicken strips? The options seemed endless, an innumerable sum of burritos, pizza slices and combo meals stretching on into infinity. I could have stood there all day pondering my order if Daryl hadn't stepped onto the train.

At Monroe, a tall black man clumsily made his way onto the red line, the clacking of his white cane breaking through the silence. Since when was the El silent? I could have sworn people were talking. But the car was dead with the exception of Daryl's walking stick. It became clear that the man was blind: his eyes bulged from their sockets, looking nowhere in particular, as his cane tapped the floor and his cup jingled. Filled with nickels and pennies, Daryl began to beg. There are lots of homeless people in the city, and it only makes sense that some of them are blind, but before I could ignore him, he said something that I will never forget: "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Daryl. Please, can I have your attention? I am blind. Please, if you have any change or food, drop it into my cup... please. Acknowledge me."

What an odd thing to say. "Acknowledge me, please" he repeated again and again.

I began to wonder how terrifying life must be for Daryl. His entire world, his perception of reality, is darkness. Nothing at all. He never had a choice, no say in the matter, his world is darkness, and he will never see the light. Daryl, a stranger to our reality, alone, has come to us begging not just for money or food, but to be recognized, to be given some kind of assurance that he isn't alone.

As he staggered from row to row, pleading to catch a fleeting glimpse of our light, I was sad that I had nothing to give poor Daryl. Not a cent, not a scrap of food. I wanted desperately to pat him on the back, reassure him, let him know that, although his world is dark, he isn't alone... instead, I held onto the rail and turned away.

On the opposite end of the train, a girl, roughly my age, was sitting in the back corner of the train. Her eyes were closed, and her ears were covered by a pair of monstrous, pink headphones. I bet they canceled out everything but the buzz of her iPod. She, too, lived in darkness, seeing her world through closed eyelids. She had given up on reality, imposing blindness and deafness on herself. She chose this path, forsaking the light and those who follow it, blurring the sights and sounds around her with synthetic noise.

As I stepped off the El platform, I was shaken by this revelation. With all of the privileges I've been given, all the opportunities I have, it is my responsibility to seek the light, to embrace the world and those who live in it and try to make a difference for those who can't... and for those who choose not to. To a degree, we are all blind to one another, incapable of seeing reality as others perceive it... but I feel like, if we make the effort to try and understand one another, we can overcome these differences and live together.

Or maybe I'm just stupid. Anyway, I got a hot dog. While I was making these observations, I accidentally squirted tabasco sauce on my bun instead of ketchup. Damn. Anyway, that's my thought of the day. Just wanted to share that.