A Good New Yorker
More or less once a week I work as a director for the SAG-AFTRA Foundation VO lab- it helps me keep a pulse on my industry and I enjoy meeting new actors and helping them progress in their careers. I find it really rewarding.
Recently the foundation decided that we all have to be CPR certified, so I spent today being trained in that. It was pretty successful but what stuck with me was when the instructor said, “first and foremost you should know that most people don’t know what to do in an emergency, or don’t want to get involved, so if you act, you’ll likely be doing it alone”
That statement is true in more situations than the ones in which CPR is needed. It seems to be true a lot these days. I struggle with that- and also with anger, a lot lately… anger at people who don’t want to get involved, or who stand back assuming someone else will fix things. Or refuse to admit they’re broken to begin with. I’m angry with people who actively support what’s going on, sure, but you know who I’m really angry at? The people who say things like “Oh I don’t talk about politics” or “Its all just so mean these days” or “I try to stay out of it” The Switzerlands, is what I call them.
I’m so angry at those people who think thats an acceptable reaction- that think its okay to do nothing- that its good or even neutral. I’m angry. Don’t they know there’s a war going on? Don’t they know that “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor”?
Although if I’m honest, we’re all a bit guilty of that.
On my way back home from the training, there was a homeless man in the subway station at 42nd st. He was yelling incoherently- your usual mentally ill homeless person kind of stuff…. and then in the middle of it he says, “help- can someone get me some help here?”
I didn’t stop. I tried not to look up. I kept walking. I’m a good New Yorker.
Now, he didn’t seem in physical distress. And he went back to saying a number of other things after. What I did is “what you do” and still in the vein of honesty- I mostly think I did the appropriate thing. I did the thing I do every day in this city of 9 million people. Still, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling of not stopping, not doing anything. All I could hear was that instructor’s voice- as she talked about The Bystander Effect.
But its all so overwhelming- and when it comes to problems like that… not just that one person, but maybe homelessness in general, and maybe even just that person… when mental illness and such is involved, its never as simple as just helping. And theres a very real threat of being pulled down yourself- like trying to rescue a drowning person when you can’t swim well yourself. When do we get involved? When can we help? When is it stupid to do so? …. and when is it cruel not to?
When I first moved to NYC over a decade ago, people used to tell me that I had an “open face” and I always talked to people I shouldn’t- sometimes people I thought needed help. And sometimes I found myself in less than safe situations because of it. I was usually relatively lucky. There was the time I had to punch a guy in Washington Square Park when he grabbed me by the wrist and wouldn’t let me go… but I punched him in the face and ran and I’d tell the story later. People who’d been here longer would laugh, and then their faces would get serious and they’d say, “Don’t ever do that- you know that, right?” And I’d laugh and tell them it was fine and wear the fact that I wasn’t scared and I didn’t care as a badge of honor. I wasn’t A Good New Yorker. I cared. I cared. And I saw. Everyone.
But that doesn’t really happen anymore. I’m “better” at being a New Yorker now, I guess.
I don’t feel better.
Recently someone close to me confessed to having to turn away from the news. They said they couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t watch. They felt ashamed to admit it- and I understood that. I said, “me too.”
And I realized that the reason I’m so angry with those people I mentioned above- The Switzerlands, isn’t just because they won’t fight. It’s because I see myself in them- and I’m ashamed too.
I don’t want to be a Good New Yorker.
