Kids in the City

I think about my nephews and nieces when I walk through the city. I think they would like it here.

I walked by a travel store today with an antiquated train set in the window. I pictured my nephews getting so excited and rushing p to the window to stare at it. Just the type of thing that make them jump up and down.

I think of them on the subways and imagine trying to explain the train that goes underground and takes you anywhere you need. They’d get it because they’re imaginative. And they would love it. They might get a little scared on their first trip, it is a little bumpy after all. But they’d get a hang of it soon enough and be climbing on seats and staring out the window at the black rushing by and jumping over the gap in the platform like they were playing hopscotch. They’d probably balance better than me on those trains. Something to do with that low center of gravity they have, I’m sure.

Yes I think of my nephews and nieces as I walk through the city. All the people they would see and the shop windows they would look into. The trees with all their falling leaves and parks with kids-only playgrounds. I’ve never gone into one of those child-dreamlands but if my nephews and nieces were here, I could take them in every day and watch them play and push them on the swings and maybe race them down the slides.

And the dogs, yes the dogs! I think they would love the city dogs. So many breeds and so many doggie outfits! They would get a kick out of the puppy snow-shoes in the winter.

I could take them to Times Square – and hold them close – but let them see the bright lights and maybe run up and down the big red stairs. At Macy’s they can see the holiday window displays and the giant stuffed animals on the kid’s floor. I can take them to the zoo where they can go into the butterfly world or explore the snake exhibit that I know the boys would love. Or to Coney Island and the aquarium where maybe the big kids can ride the best roller coaster ever with me.

They would love the history museum and the giant blue whale suspended above their heads. And I could show them all the animals of Africa and the constellations of the sky. They might be a bit young for the art museums, but maybe MOMA where interactive displays can pique their curiosity. And certainly to the park, where they can run and jump and play and we can all take a boat ride on the lake, as long as no one falls in!

And the sounds, I think they’d love the sounds. The honking cabs and always jabbering people. The concerts in the parks or squares and, of course, the musicians on the trains and platforms! I can even see them wanting to bring their caja on the train to play for people themselves! They can be as loud as they want in the city, because it’s the city and there are 8 million other people making sound too.

I know the city is big and can be a bit scary. There are a lot of people and a lot of cars and I guess the doggies aren’t always nice. But when I walk through the city, I find myself seeing it through my nephews and nieces eyes and the city takes on this dreamy glow. A place of adventure and discovery. I think they’d like it here. And I’d always hold them close.

If I'm all grown up now, why do I feel so young?

At what point do we really feel grown up? I suppose I should ask what that even means. Back in undergrad, I tackled that looming question of what I want to be when I grow up. I was grown up. At least that’s what I felt at the time. I postulated on about how I finally WAS what I wanted to be. I was me. The answer wasn’t about my career. It was about being comfortable in my own skin. And I was pretty darn comfortable back then. Even if looking back now I see how self-conscious I was. Self-discovery is an ongoing process, I’ve discovered. It never ends. I’m just as comfortable with myself today as I was five years ago. And I’ve grown quite a bit since then. I suppose my issue with that question of what I want to be when I grow up is about the fact that I shouldn’t be sitting around waiting to BE. I should just be. NOW. Who I am today is just as important as who I am ten years from now. As is what I do. So why is it that at certain stages in my life, I find myself more or less confident and comfortable and sure. Circumstances I guess.

Here I am beginning an exciting journey in higher education. Back in school studying something I’ve been passionate about for years. Surrounded by students with similar ideals and faculty who genuinely seem to care about my potential. Yet I find myself sitting in every class questioning what I’m doing here. How did I get in to this Ivy league school? What qualifies me to sit beside my peers with such thought provoking questions and intellectual understanding? It’s a disturbing thing to be constantly question myself. And to be questioning where that confidence I once had has gone. It’s like moving from eighth to ninth grade and going from being the big fish down to the bottom of the rung. Except this time there’s no freshmen Fridays with fears of wedgies and toilet dunking. But the insecurity is the same.

Maybe these stages never end. Maybe I never get to a place where I never feel doubt. Maybe if I do it means I’ve stopped being and growing and developing. Maybe complete comfort and confidence is a sign of passive life and eventual burnout. Maybe I need to hunger for these stages where I’m not entirely on top. Because they will take me to the next place, the next stage, the next level where I can get to the next learning moment. And maybe in the meantime I just need to hold on, work hard, and remember that I’ve been here before and I won. I overcame the insecurity and the doubt. I became the smiling sophomore, the spirited junior, and the leading senior owning the halls of the high school that had first made me want to crawl into bed and hide.

I did it then and I became stronger. I’ll do it again. And again. And hopefully many times again before I end.

The only limits on what I can be when I grow up are the limits I place myself.