Today I had an interview with a restaurant in Cambridge. I took a bus and the T Red Line to get to the restaurant and then again to get home. While I watched the city slip past me as the driver sped on I thought about transportation and compromise. Both are necessary for cities to function and both have become necessary for people to function as well. While seemingly unlinked the two are actually synonymous with one another. A person must get to work and it may only be 5 miles away but they cannot afford a car so they compromise and take public transportation. One might have an interview at 3pm and although they do not need to be there until 2:50pm the only train to run at that time drops them off at 2:30. So they compromise and go early to the area or interview and walk around in CVS or something. The problem becomes when Public Transportation starts to help us compromise ourselves and our dreams.
When I first moved to Chicago public transportation was a new concept to me. I figured riding the trains or buses would be glamorous just like in the movies: I was so sure I would see an awesome chase through the train cars or watch two people fall in love as the doors close and they are torn apart. Sadly I was mistaken. The glamour of public transportation quickly wore off and while I loved riding home on Chicago’s brown line as the sun was setting I could do without the perpetual pee and vomit smell that Chicago’s red line is known for.
Boston and Chicago are fortunate to be part of an elite group of metropolises with public transportation systems that weave through all the major and minor parts of the city. You can easily access a bus or train from any major street in either of these cities. And even though their train systems have different names (Chicago calls its 100year old system the “L” for lift and Boston’s is known as the “T” for transit or transportation) the people and experiences found on the trains can be very similar in both cities. When one is taking the T or the L one can definitely expect loud children, drunken sorority girls, fake homeless people, and the occasional guy that thinks hitting on you at 2am after a long day at work even with you head phones in is OK.
I find the train to be either the absolute highlight of my day or the absolute down fall. When everyone is quiet and there are seats available the T can be a calming place to reflect on your day or listen to your new Mumford & Sons album. The T is a place you can easily make important decisions about life, decisions about career steps, relocating, and friendships. But it can also be an added exhaustion when you’re tired and the 5 year old next to you won’t stop moving and talking. Or when you are running late/on a tight schedule and public transportation decides to run late too. I’ve always felt the one thing I can count on with the train is it will not be on time.
Some of my best memories of Chicago happened on the L. I remember riding the Brown Line from the Wellington stop to the Library stop with my two roommates every morning for a year. The train was always super crowded in the morning and I remember the first time Stephanie, Rachel and I took the Brown Line in for class. There was only one spot to hold onto the railing, so we decided I would grab the railing for dear life while Rachel grabbed my bag and arm. And poor Stephanie being tiny and adorable held both of our bags and wedged herself in between a million strangers praying she would not fall over. We laughed the whole way to school and most morning after that and it became a moment I think about on a regular basis.
As I mentioned earlier I went to an interview with a restaurant today. It went well and after a quick shadow tomorrow I will hopefully have a job. And yet I cannot stop the overwhelming feeling of compromise. I am still pursuing my hopes of having a career I can be really happy in and move up in but it is taking a little longer to launch those hopes then I expected. Thus I must get a job to pay the bills and the only thing I’m seemingly qualified for is a position in a restaurant. The restaurant industry is a fantastic and lucrative industry, and having worked in it for many years I have much respect for all the people that make it run. I however do not wish to be a server or bartender forever, and I also have no desire to be a manager so that doesn’t leave me much room for the industry. Yet alas I am compromising myself to go back to the industry so I can continue to live in a nice place with cable and internet and be able to go out to the places I want and drink the drinks I like. And public transportation is helping me make all those dreams come true (That was slathered in sarcasm for those that didn’t pick up on it). Today I felt like I was doing the walk of shame on my way home (No Mom that’s totally not a feeling I’m familiar with). I felt like I was whoring myself out to something I didn’t even want. Convincing these people I’m the best and most qualified so I can do a job I don’t long for but need fiscally. Riding home on the T started with a feeling of pride that I had landed a shadow and then the pride quickly slipped into shame that I was letting myself be someone I don’t want to be.
I started to think of all the compromises I make everyday. From the small ones like I’ll just sleep for 5 more minutes to the large ones like I’ll just lose my soul to money. I wonder how many compromises we make in our lives? And not all compromises are bad, but sometimes even the ones that come with good intentions can do large amounts of damage. Does that mean I’ll stop making compromises? Of course not! That’s what survival of the fittest was all about. We have to make the compromises to survive, but it is important to realize that too many compromises can have the opposite effect of survival. So alas, I will march forward in my venture to transition cities and careers and I will attempt not to compromise myself to the point of extinction, something we must all venture to do daily. And I will continue to take the T for transportation to whatever venture I am compromising myself to do. Xoxo
