My sister Julia turned 24 this past weekend and I flew to New York to be with her for the special occasion. I was excited to see her as it had been months since I last crossed paths with her and years since we spent her birthday together. So in true broke-college-kid fashion, I booked a $100 flight and signed my life away. I then figured out exactly why the flight was so cheap and soon realized I had to purchase a seat and a carry-on. To say I was ticked off is an understatement.
Nevertheless, I made my way to the airport and boarded my delayed flight. Takeoff was smooth and I had gotten halfway through my book by the time the pilot announced our initial descent into JFK Airport. Just a few moments later, one of the attendants came onto the intercom and asked if there was any medical staff on the plane. Suddenly it became very quiet as we all held our breaths in hopes that there would be a young strapping doctor to save the day. As seconds and minutes passed, there was no ding from someone's seat proclaiming themselves as the hero. It made everyone seem uneasy to think about the events that would follow.
I once heard a tip from someone that if the flight attendants aren't freaking out, you shouldn't be either. This was the exception. The flight attendants were walking briskly through the aisles carrying oxygen tanks and garbage bags. My mind went to the worst-case scenario. After several minutes of chaos, we landed and they took the sickly woman off the plane. This was followed by a bunch of exchanged nerve-wracking looks from strangers around me as if there was some unspoken comradery among our shared experience. I got off the plane, made my way to my sister's apartment, and finally got to bed.
We had a wonderful weekend full of food, friends, and laughs. When I finally checked in to fly back to Florida, my flight was once again delayed. It felt like deja vu since it was the same gate I had arrived from. We boarded finally and we all felt as if we were in the clear. We then taxied for two hours and just as we all were becoming hopeful and starting our movies, the pilot announced that because of FAA regulations we would have to go back to the gate to switch out flight crews. The passengers were upset, hungry, and tired. As soon as the pilot ended his announcement, there was an uproar of people turning to their neighbors and discussing their frustration. I listened to people around me bond over their shared experiences and discuss where they were supposed to be when we landed.
We ended up deplaning and I was beyond frustrated. I was pretty sure I had strep throat, I was struggling with flight anxiety, wearing a mask, and had no travel partner to share my thoughts with. As I waited in line to switch to a different flight I found myself getting madder and madder. I began to tap my foot and take exasperated breaths all while eyeing down the woman in front of me wondering “what the actual fuck could take so long?”
I then realized what I needed to do. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened my eyes I looked around. I saw a wife kiss her husband and feed her child while smiling. I saw two male friends cheer their waters and announce to the people around them that they wished the drinks they were holding were beers. A priest was reading out of his bible and kids snacking on cheez-its while talking to one another. It gave me a much-needed sense of perspective. I was just one person on a plane of over a hundred people. It made me think about how each of these people had families. They have goals, dreams, aspirations, and agendas that this setback was affecting. It made me feel incredibly small, in the absolute best way.
It humbled me with the fact that I was nothing, which is sometimes exactly what we need. We need to be reminded that our needs are no more important than anybody else’s. We all are on the same floating rock and we are all in this together. So we should be a little nicer to strangers because we have no idea what their lives are like beyond the small window that we are allowed into.
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