Be my Valentine, 1 train

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I just came to the realization that I have a passionate love affair with the subway.

The subway in New York is a world of its own. In a city of 8 million people, the public transport system is the common thread that links everyone. Take a glimpse at the geographic layout of the 1 train that stops right outside of campus: It makes a stop in nearly every one of this city’s microcosms. From the wealthy pockets of Wall Street investors, it travels uptown along Times Square tourists, makes a stop at Columbia, touches upon the Harlem barrios, and settles in the neighborhoods of the Bronx. How many faces, how many stories, how many broken dreams and joyous adventures live through it? The subway lines are like veins that circulate through New York and feed it with liveliness.

I’ve fallen in love with the subway because every ride is an opportunity to understand the way this city interacts. I invite you to ride the subway with a new attitude: Immerse yourself in the very essence of your subway car. Leave headphones, books, and conversations with friends behind. Leave behind that empty stare into space because you are too shy to look strangers in the eye. Instead, pay close attention to what is around you. Listen to the conversation of the person next to you, the many different accents, foreign languages, and babies’ cries. Look around at the different fashions, features, and objects that people carry along. Breathe in the different aromas—sometimes, they will be Chanel No. 5. Other times, they will not be pleasant at all. It is a cultural experience.

I realized for the first time how globalized the subway was when I sat in between two commuters reading Chinese- and Spanish-language newspapers. I, on the other hand, had a spare copy of Spectator in my backpack. All three had articles on the Occupy Wall Street movement. Nonetheless, I’m sure the three of us had entirely different perspectives on the issue—mainly because our backgrounds had led us to experience entirely different things in this city. The subway brought us together. This made me feel butterflies.

The lyrics to Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” read, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls.” Public spaces like the subway grant the opportunity for anyone to become a prophet within their very own means of expression. Think of all the musicians, the Bible preachers, the communist protests, and mime artists that you come into contact with as you wait at a subway station. One of my favorite memories of riding the subway is when a group of Mexican mariachis and corridor singers randomly jumped in at 96th Street. Immediately after finishing their songs, they started advocating for immigrant rights. They probably wanted tips for their performance, but I saw what they were doing as a statement of their presence in this city. They were showcasing their cultures and their personal backgrounds in public, contradicting the anonymity that this society pressures them to live in.

Being in love with the subway has taught me that we are not as foreign or distant from any other New York City resident as we perceive ourselves to be. It is during that 15-minute subway ride that all our lives connect and are equally vulnerable. The subway has also brought me to be conscious about the responsibility we have in connecting the different microcosms of this city. As intellectually conscious citizens of the 116th Street—the Columbia University stop—both with students who intern at Wall Street or volunteer in Harlem, students should be reminded by any subway ride that we have the power to connect both worlds.

We should all fall in love with the subway line.

Andrea Viejo is a Columbia College first-year. She is on the executive board of the Columbia Society of International Undergraduate Students and a writer for Nuestras Voces.From Outside In runs alternate Mondays.