On this Thanksgiving, we take a break from our criticism of the government, both American and Princetonian, and we reflect on that for which we are thankful.
Riding the train from Princeton to New York, I watch as a TSA officer passes me by on his way to an adjacent car, below a flashing sign asking passengers to report any suspicious behavior to 1-888-TIPS-NJT.
Arriving at Penn Station, I wade through a sea of people eager to see their family for the holiday. What a rush it is to emerge from the subway into the rain.
A young Pakistani taxi driver picks me up. A recent immigrant, his mind is on maintaining a clean taxi in a dirty city, on providing for a new family.
I arrive at the hotel and am greeted in the elevator by a cheerful, drunk, middle-aged Italo-American. “How’re you doing?” he slurs, his tongue outstretched, “Where’re you from? Have a good one!”
Floors up, I admire the parade of floats, of dancing and marching, of Thanksgiving revelry welcoming in a Black Friday shopping spree.
It’s hard to believe that a little over eight years ago there was no New York–there was no America. How far we have come. How much we have for which to be thankful.
