Take a Break: Restoring My Faith in Humanity

About six months ago, I decided to take a break from Facebook. A task I had often taken before, but this time for different reasons. Usually, when I decide to leave Facebook it’s because I realize the hold that the social media site has on my time and my energy and I decide that maybe I should get back to a world before everything was instant. Or I take a break from Facebook as part of a social media cleanse with its base in the religious sacrament of fasting. But no, this time it was different.

No matter where you live or what you are doing, everyone can admit that it seems that 2016 was crazy. From natural disasters to political elections to racial tensions, you can pick your angry poison by the dozen. One day, I simply got fed up. You see, I consider myself a very positive person. Most of the time, it doesn’t take much for me to see the positive side in any situation and especially in any person. But for a while there six months ago, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. And that, that was something that I was NOT use to.

It actually scared me. If I’m honest, it also took a toll on my mental health. I was depressed. I was sad. And it was all because I was losing faith in humanity.

Here’s the thing, it could be because I’m young and it could because I am admittedly naive, or maybe because I was born in the south but I truly believe that despite what the media says, people are generally nice. My motto has always been: Do nice to others and they will be nice to you. It’s why I always wear a smile as a part of my outfit. Nothing has ever chipped away at that philosophy. Nothing.

But slowly this past year, life started to chip away at that philosophy. I began to read the comment section on various popular news stories (NEWS FLASH: Bad Idea!) and I was at first disgusted and then I was simply sad at the hatred and ignorance embedded in what I was reading. This was across the board on all issues. From racism to celebrities, people said whatever they wanted without ever taking a second to think about other people’s feelings.

However, I thought that this phenomena was due to internet trolls and bad social media communication. Surely, when it came to people that I knew personally, we could have decent conversations about hard topics without cutting one another down personally because we happen to disagree. Yet, very soon I found not even that to be true. And yeah, maybe I brought some of it on myself because I wrote thought-provoking and sometime emotionally driven posts. But I always tried to approach every conversation with humility and objectivity. If ever I offended, I apologized usually both publicly and privately. Yet, the attacks kept coming.

The final straw was a day when I tried to be Facebook superhero and comment on every person’s post to try to help them see the other side’s perspective. I was immediately and strongly verbally attacked from many avenues. As I started to cry, I knew that it was time to take a break for two main reasons: (1) I was using way too much time trying to comment on things and I didn’t seem to be making much of a difference. (2) For the first time in my life, I started to think maybe people are actually awful and love couldn’t win. It was time for a break.

The Break

Like any addiction, it was very hard taking a break from Facebook. It always is. There are always big events in my life that I want to post about and share with my friends. For example, one of my best friends from college is getting married and we had her Bachelorette party during the break. In my circle of friends, I am known as the picture girl and for the first time in a long time, I took pictures but I couldn’t post anything. I know it sounds stupid but that really annoyed me.

I also found that our would has become deeply integrated with Facebook as a platform. I missed events, never heard of parties, and lost track of special occasions all because I no longer had a social media site. Half-way through I started to wonder if this break was even worth it. But in those moments, I started to reflect on all the good that had happened during the break. Honestly, during this time, "who Vania is” had been renewed and I hoped to return stronger than ever and most importantly, return more compassionate than ever.

Restoring My Faith

God has a funny way of really bringing you the comfort when you most need it. From a young age, I was told that I wore my heart on my sleeve, that I had a heart for people, that I hurt when others hurt. I could always feel their pain. I believe that is why it has always been so hard for me to understand how other people cannot be sympathetic to the plight of their brothers and sisters in the human race. At the same time, it fostered the mentality that shaped my life which is simply: Love wins.

During my break from Facebook there were many times that God has brought me people to restore my faith in humanity, one particular time stands out the most: My bus trip to New York.

(1) The lovely Turkish girl I met in the Bus Station. Leaving from Williamsburg to head to New York on a weekday, I had no idea that I would meet someone so kind and so genuine. She was a stranger. But not just any stranger, a foreign stranger. I don’t even know her name. It’s funny how that works, I don’t know her name but she left a tremendous impact on my life.

We bonded over the fact that we were about to make the same journey. As soon as she started talking to me, I knew that she was not from Williamsburg. Her accent was heavy. I asked her where she was from and she told me Turkey. First, I had never met anyone from Turkey so that in itself was pretty cool. We continued to chat a little here and there about why we both were in Williamsburg, but went our separate ways to wait for the same bus.

The Richmond bus station happened to be freezing. And through a chain of events to long to write down, I was dressed in thin workout clothes with no sleeves and no coat. As I am shivering in front of her, my Turkish friend without a moment of hesitation offered me her shawl that she was using to cover her likewise cold legs. Of course I told her I couldn’t take it, seeing that she was cold also, but she insisted and I took it. She let me use it the whole trip to New York.

Now I know that is a simple thing, but she didn’t know me. She didn’t owe me anything. All we did was share a few pleasantries and a shared destination. Yet, she had compassion on my condition. Because when she saw me shivering, it didn’t matter that we were from different cultures. It didn’t matter that we were different races. All that mattered was that I was human.

(2) The young man who sat beside me on the bus. Everyone knows that one of the sketchiest parts about riding the bus is that you never know who you will sit beside. Believe me, I’ve heard some horror stories. From crazy people to smelly people, you just never know. It’s part of the bus experience.

However, this bus ride, I really lucked out. Sometimes when I am travelling alone, I get a little nervous by the opposite sex. I know that it’s because of an unfair gender stereotype, but I am a creature of my development. So when the young man asked if he could sit next to me, like any southern bell, I smiled and said of course. Little did I know that he would be the next person to restore my faith in humanity, a little step at a time.

Even less than my exchange with the Turkish girl, we didn’t share many words. You see, the bus trip was late at night and most people were trying to sleep. Because I had been at school all day, I was one of those people trying to sleep. If you ever have tried to fall asleep on a bus, then you know how difficult a task it is.

I happened to have the window seat and as much as I tossed and turned, I could not seem to get comfortable. I must admit, I even bumped into my seat partner a few times, quickly apologizing every time. Needless to say, trying to sleep was simply not working. Then out of the blue, the young man beside me offered me his jacket to use as a pillow against the window. This small act of kindness, touched my spirit.

Again, he didn’t know me. And he didn’t owe me anything. Yet, in that moment it didn’t matter that he was a male and I was a female. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t spoken more than ten words to one another. All that mattered was that he saw that I was struggling and offered a way to ease my struggle. All that mattered was that he was human.

(3) The tattooed stranger on the trip back home. Jumping in time a little, this one comes from the bus trip home. As I set in the bottom of the New York bus station, clinging to my possessions and hoping that I did not have to go to the bathroom, (Cut me a little slack, I was by myself and it is kind of a creepy place to be alone), the greyhound people finally called my boarding ticket to line up.

It happened that they had overbooked the bus and were trying to make arrangements to get everyone where they needed to go. This meant that unfortunately 75 odd people had to stand in the boarding line a little longer than usual. To my right, a gentleman in line asked me if this was the bus to Richmond. Because I was so on guard, it startled me at first, quickly I got my bearings and said, "yes it is" but explained the delay to him. He thanked me and then got into his spot in line.

Now, this guy was not necessarily someone that you would expect to be super nice to you by the world’s standards. He had tattoo sleeves on both of his arms, piercings in his ears and if I remember correctly, a nose piercing as well. Yet, as the story continues, He became another stranger who was unashamedly nice to me.

Once we got on the bus, we made a stop in Delaware for food, the bathroom, etc. Again, this man and I found ourselves in another line near each other. This time the Starbucks line, as we chatted waiting for our drinks, he told me a little bit about his life and why he was heading to South Carolina. Although I do not remember all the details, I remember feeling oddly surprised that this stranger would share such personal details about his life and struggles with me, a stranger.

Okay, so now we head to Richmond. It was a late night bus trip so we got to Richmond around four in the morning. I had a six hour layover and was completely exhausted. My friend, the tattooed gentleman had a four hour layover. We decided to sit and chat, as well as watch each other's stuff while the other went to the bathroom. Again, it was flipping freezing in the bus station and because it was August, I did not pack for cold weather. Without skipping a step, this guy pulls out the only long-sleeve shirt he owns and hands it to me to use. After some protest, I finally took it and it was so warm. When it was his time to leave, he told me to keep the shirt. Stunned, I begged him to take it, but he refused. He gave me, a stranger his only warm shirt.

Again, he did not owe me anything. We had exchanged only hours and I probably will never see him again. But in that moment it did not matter where I was in life, it did not matter that he was without a job and low on funds. All that mattered was that he had the means to help me keep from being cold. All that mattered was that we were human.

(4) Lastly, but surely not least, the bus driver who drove the bus to New York. Okay, I must admit, I saved this one for last because it blew my mind more than any of the others. Often we pass by the people who “serve” us. The bus driver, the mailman, the waitress, because they are working. We, myself included, sometimes forget that they have stories too. Amazing stories that contribute to the complexity that is the human race.

If we just share a smile and an ear, people are willing to share their stories. The bus driver on this trip, shared a little bit of his story with me at one of our stops and boy, was it a good one. Leaving the rest stop, I jokingly asked the bus driver if this stop meant that I could now count Delaware in the states that I have been too. He laughed and joked back with me, little did I know that I would open a door to his story.

As we headed back to the bus with still a few minutes left in our break, he told me he wanted to show me something. I had no idea what it would be but I smiled and said okay. He pulled out three beautiful drawings, the first two of places in New York. I am not usually an art fan but these photos were stunning. The craziest part is that they looked printed not drawn, but he shared with me his passion for art and design. He told me why he did this as a hobby and how he hoped one day to do it full-time.

I was amazed at his talent and touched that he would choose to share it with me. After telling me a few more stories, I went back to my seat and thought that was the end of it. Granted, even if it would have been the end, I was already amazed enough. But no, before pulling off he found me and said I want to give you something because you seem like you would enjoy it. And he pulled out a card copy of one of his New York drawings and signed the envelope before giving it to me, I was deeply touched.

You see, he didn’t know me. And he didn’t owe me anything. But in that moment, it didn’t matter that he was white and I was black. It didn’t matter that he was a middle-age blue collar worker and I was a young aspiring lawyer. All that mattered was that I was nice to him, giving him the opportunity to share his story with me. All that mattered was that in a few minutes I got to see his eyes light up as he told me about his passion and his art journey. All that mattered was that by listening I touched him enough that he would offer me one of his treasured possessions. All that mattered was that we were human.

Conclusion

Through these four individuals my hope in humanity was greatly restored. Although, I don’t know the names of any of those four people and in all probability I will never see them again, their kindness and their humanness changed my life for the better. Now, whenever I get back on Facebook and things happen that make me sad, I can remember that in real life: Love Wins. I just have to keep pushing through the roughness with positivity. I am recharged. I am renewed. But most importantly I am human. We are Human.