The Cost of Safety
My sister Julia and I both live in New York City. A recent rise in random subway and street attacks lives here, too, which is why each time my grandma calls either of us, she suggests new, discreet weapons we can carry around to defend ourselves (e.g., a mandolin [the vegetable-slicing kind], hairspray and a lighter, or a kitchen knife up a sleeve).
She’s not wrong to be worried, though the mandolin suggestion does conjure interesting images. Many of my friends have invested in pepper spray or mace that can easily join their phone, wallet, and keys in a bag for a night out. These things should not be necessary, but this is the world we live in. The best way to stay safe is clearly to avoid the places where harm likes to hunt, such as public transportation, right? But this is the problem, because Julia and I were just texting about a weird cost-benefit analysis that most of us take into account when trying to move about the city safely.
It’s 1am on a Sunday morning. You’ve decided to call it a night and head home. Taking the subway back is cheapest, but you just heard about several robberies and assaults from over the past week, so is it worth the risk? You check Uber and Lyft and Curb (which is for calling yellow taxis, if you did not know), and all the prices are through the roof. Eighty dollars to drive forty blocks? No way. So subway it is. Lord, if it’s my time, it’s my time.
We shouldn’t have to choose between feeling safe in our city and affording to live here.
For people my age, saving money is a compelling reason to trust the MTA. It’s a compelling reason to not take the car that will get you home directly and fast. Both my grandma and my dad have offered to pay for a car for me or Julia if either of us feels unsafe traveling at any point. But not every New Yorker has the same support system. What about them? Our ability to feel safe should not depend on our paychecks. (And I say this in the most local of a sense possible, as I know that this statement rings of the very real, very widespread institutional racism in our country. Right now, I am just talking about getting from place to place in NYC without fear. But think about it.)
The bottom line is that most of the time, I will not take a car, because aside from not having my own money to drop on that—when a $2.75 trip awaits just down the stairs—I also don’t want to take advantage of my family’s generosity. I will get on the train, where normally I am in the company of many other young people ending their nights. I will choose to trust the [mostly absent] MTA employees to call for the police if something happens, even though I maybe shouldn’t. My dwindling bank account is the devil on my shoulder.
So, we can’t take an Uber every night, but here’s what we can do. When we are walking anywhere alone, at any time, we can be aware! (Personally, I do not put in my headphones for my running playlist until I am safely on the path in Central Park.) We can know our surroundings; don’t stare at your phone as you walk down the street or the subway steps. If we need to head somewhere late at night, we can try not to be alone. If we have to be alone, we can plan to not be on the trains too late. I know you’ve heard it a million times by now, but we can “please stand away from the platform edge.” And finally, if we feel unsafe, we can trust our gut. We can get in the expensive car if our mind and body are telling us to (after we’ve confirmed the license plate, of course).
The ability to get from here to there, at any time of day, without fear of being stabbed or robbed or shot, should be a given in city life. But when it’s not, well, that’s when our street smarts come into play. The cost of safety shouldn’t be the sacrifice of your daily latte, though maybe it has to be. Fin.
***And on that depressing note, the NYC Marathon is in just over two weeks! If you would like to donate to ALS research in memory of my Grandma Ann, here is the link! Thanks!***