Are you relatively new to this bustling metropolis? Don't be shy about it, everyone was new to New York once upon a time, except, of course, those battle-hardened residents who've lived here their whole lives and Know It All. One of these lifers works among us at Gothamist—publisher Jake Dobkin grew up in Park Slope and still resides there. He is now fielding questions—ask him anything by sending an email here, but be advised that Dobkin is "not sure you guys will be able to handle my realness." We can keep you anonymous if you prefer; just let us know what neighborhood you live in.
This week's question comes from a childless New Yorker who's afraid to help carry a stranger's stroller up the subway stairs.
Dear Jake,
Am I morally obligated to help parents carry their strollers up the subway stairs? On the one hand, I feel the pain of navigating a transit system that is woefully inaccessible at most stations. And taxis/uber/what-have-you are prohibitively expensive for daily use and sometimes slower-moving than the subway. More importantly, we've all been in a tough spot where a kind stranger's help makes all the difference in our day; don't our littlest citizens deserve a helping hand?
However, I am a (somewhat overly cautious) childless person, who knows nothing about children and their giant strollers. I'm also a weakling. I live in fear of offering to help, only to accidentally hit some magic folding switch on the stroller, or just flat out dump the poor baby on the stairs. In this overly-litigious world, it seems like a big liability to help carry a living, breathing, non-relative human up a steep staircase. No good deed seems to go unpunished in the hellscape that is the NYC subway system.
Also, everyone knows that most subway stations lack elevators; surely most urban parents know this when they set out on their journey? I couldn't imagine heading towards a destination knowing that I would be unable to exit without assistance. I guess the fact that parents seem to do this regularly points towards society actually being consistently neighborly?
Myself and my colleagues are divided on this issue. What do you and your roommates say?
Sincerely,
Childfree on the UWS
A native New Yorker responds:
Dear Childfree,
You are clearly a good person—you wouldn't believe the number of people who, when presented with a parent struggling to get a toddler and stroller up the subway stairs, give one of those dickish exasperated sighs or actually shoulder them out of the way. People: they're the worst!
Dobkin rides the rails with one of his roommates. (Courtesy Jake Dobkin Private Collection)
Offering to help is the right thing to do, obviously. Having young children is the most difficult stage of New York City life. Old age and death are easy in comparison, because you don't have to do those with a pissed-off toddler screaming at you because they can't figure out how to get Octonauts to play on Netflix. Parents need all the help they can get.
The correct method: the parent will have waited for pedestrian traffic to clear (this time is normally spent making sure they've removed the correct number of kids from the subway car, and haven't lost the iPhone they were using as a distraction). You, the helpful passerby, note that the parent is looking nervously up the long flight of stairs, signaling their need for assistance. You step in with a "can I give you a hand?", wait for them to accept, and then allow them to remove the child from the stroller. Then they will take the child up the stairs while you lift the stroller.
Have no fear. Most umbrella strollers weigh about 10 pounds, and those are the only ones you see on the subway. Any parent who has attempted to take a 25 pound, $1,000 Bugaboo Hippo on the subway soon learns their lesson, and buys the lightest, least expensive model they can find. Umbrella strollers also won't collapse without a series of steps (usually pushing down on a latch and then pushing up on the bottom). It's basically impossible to accidentally collapse them, and even if a child was inside, they wouldn't be crushed—just lightly smushed. I speak from experience here.
Don't carry the stroller up with the child inside. This is because it is very easy to trip on the stairs, and you don't want to send a stranger's child and stroller flying onto the subway tracks. Experienced New York City parents will sometimes be forced to execute this difficult maneuver—usually because the kid is asleep, and hell hath no fury like a toddler woken early from a nap—but the emphasis is on the word "experienced" here, and you are an amateur. Safety first!
Don't be surprised if your gentle offer of assistance is refused. We New York parents are a hardy breed, and having been caught dozens of times at a flight of stairs with no one around to help, have developed plenty of techniques to get a stroller and child up safely. Bumping, for instance, or taking the child out, holding them with one hand, and dragging the stroller with another. Sometimes it's just faster to do it alone. No beef—it's not that you're particularly weird looking and we're worried about you abducting the kid. Usually.
The truth is just that once you get used to it, getting your family around on the subway is pretty easy, and certainly far less of a hassle than dealing with car ownership or moving to the suburbs. In case any of you are expecting babies soon, here are a few simple tricks that I've picked up along the way:
1) Don't try to get all your stuff (baby, stroller, diaper bag, etc) through a turnstile; you will become stuck. Leave the stroller outside the emergency door, swipe through, and then open the door and bring the stroller inside.
2) Memorize this list of 80+ accessible stations, or at least bookmark it to consult occasionally. Yes, the elevator will smell like pee, or have someone actually peeing inside, but it's still easier than the stairs.
3) Leave the stroller behind if you can. New York kids should be capable of walking 10 blocks by the time they are 4 years old. For short trips, it's often easier to just carry the toddler.
4) Always carry snacks. I can't repeat this enough. If I had to pick between snacks and those germ-free wipes, or snacks and a picture book, or snacks and my spouse, I'd take the snacks. Take enough for yourself too—low blood sugar is the primary cause of losing your parental shit.
5) Most people will offer a small child a seat, but if they don't, train your kid to ask, in their sweetest voice, "please, may I sit down?" Even the most hardened New York City psychopath can't turn this down. You can then put the kid in your lap so you can both get seats.
Always, and I mean always, force your recently potty-trained child to pee before you get on the train. They always lie about not having to go, and then you find yourself sprinting outside at some stop in Midtown to let them pee between parked cars.
One more thing: if the MTA was appropriately funded, we'd have more than 20% of our subway stations accessible by now. This number is pitiful, and inconveniences more than just young parents. The elderly and disabled are also screwed, and remember: one day you will most definitely fall into one of these three groups. Vote for politicians who understand the importance of mass transit, and against those, like many presently seated in Albany, who divert those dollars to wasteful and polluting highway projects.
A 100% accessible subway system might not be quite as important to young families as paid leave from work, subsidized daycare, and tax breaks for childcare expenses, but it would help, and it's something we should all support.
N.B.: Getting your kid around on mass transit is a wonderful way to toughen them and introduce them to the city at the same time. Pity those soft suburban kids who get chauffeured around in their luxury SUVs, and who, on their first subway ride at N.Y.U., have an inevitable panic attack and then have to transfer to Wesleyan.
Ask a Native New Yorker anything via email. Anonymity is assured.
