Writing in the Second Person

I have never felt invisible in the sense of race, I am a privileged white girl. I feel invisible in situations, for example, classes when all of the other students are smarter than me and every time I have tried to raise my hand the teacher skips me. Or this summer when I went to New York alone I didn’t know anyone, I would walk the streets alone or get coffee at a place I have never been before and every face was unknown. Nobody looked or cared about me, nobody knew my name. More importantly, nobody cared. I am not saying that here people stare at me and care but when I go running or go get coffee I recognise people and people recognise me. New York was a different type of alone but I liked it. Everyone was alone, I didn’t know anybody so I didn’t feel the pressure to do/act/dress in a certain way other than I wanted too. Which is weird, because I brought back some of those tendencies here and my friends have commented on how I dress differently when to me its just what I decided to wear. So, below is me writing like Claudia Renkin in the 2nd person.

You’re walking down the street to go to your 8:45 AM class. You reach into your back pocket and grab your phone. 8:36. Crap and your casual stroll turn into a “New Yorkers” walk. Which to anyone outside of New York, it is a speed walk or even an awkward looking jog. The beautiful thing about rush hour mornings is the crisp air. The cool wind tickles at your arm hair and the back of your dress flies up with every fast-paced step. To-go cup of coffee in one hand, you can feel your coffee move as your speed increases, trying to balance the beverage before it spills. You see three other people doing the same thing, you start to think you fit in.

What the magic is about New York is, especially at rush hour, is that everyone is the same and everyone is equal. The world is rushing somewhere whether that is home, work, the subway or actually running. You are alone, but you don't’ feel lonely. Everyone around you is alone. Nobody is staring at you, and you aren't staring at anybody. Everyone is fully focused on themselves. You’re all alone but you’re doing it together all focused on how you’re going to make it through the day.

New York surprisingly is the quietest city you know. Only among a million beating hearts could you still hear a cigarette burn on a balcony in Brooklyn.