And now a feel-good moment brought to you by Facebook, hand sanitizer, and some pretty decent people.
Over the weekend, attorney Gregory Locke boarded New York City’s Number One subway train and saw this:
“I got on the subway in Manhattan tonight and found a Swastika on every advertisement and every window. The train was silent as everyone stared at each other, uncomfortable and unsure what to do.”
“I got on the subway in Manhattan tonight and found a Swastika on every advertisement and every window. The train was silent as everyone stared at each other, uncomfortable and unsure what to do.”
He shared the moment in a Facebook post that has since gotten almost 470,000 views. From the rest of his post:
One guy got up and said, ‘Hand sanitizer gets rid of Sharpie. We need alcohol.’ He found some tissues and got to work.
I’ve never seen so many people simultaneously reach into their bags and pockets looking for tissues and Purel. Within about two minutes, all the Nazi symbolism was gone.
Nazi symbolism. On a public train. In New York City. In 2017.
‘I guess this is Trump’s America,’ said one passenger. No sir, it’s not. Not tonight and not ever. Not as long as stubborn New Yorkers have anything to say about it.
One guy got up and said, ‘Hand sanitizer gets rid of Sharpie. We need alcohol.’ He found some tissues and got to work.
I’ve never seen so many people simultaneously reach into their bags and pockets looking for tissues and Purel. Within about two minutes, all the Nazi symbolism was gone.
Nazi symbolism. On a public train. In New York City. In 2017.
‘I guess this is Trump’s America,’ said one passenger. No sir, it’s not. Not tonight and not ever. Not as long as stubborn New Yorkers have anything to say about it.
Sometimes it seems the key to life is a matter of figuring out how to move past the awkward and toward something good. And subways can be a hotbed of awkward—they’re public, physically uncomfortable, and you’re surrounded by strangers, all of whom are just trying to get somewhere else unscathed. And the interaction etiquette is pretty specific: Keep touching, talking, and eye-contact to a minimum, don’t hog the pole, and don’t turn a thing into a thing. It’s a mobile “third place”—except without the coffee or charm.
So when a leaderless team spontaneously forms to solve a nasty problem that everyone is suddenly having, it feels like a special moment.
But it could have been just another ride downtown. I think about what it would have been like if everyone had stayed quiet, and gotten off at their stop feeling worried and disgusted. Wondering if they had been riding the subway with a potential Nazi troll for years. Re-playing in their heads all the things they should have said or done. And telling their friends a different story later that night, one without the happy ending of a newly hand-sanitized subway and the sudden realization that they are not alone.