James' World 2

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When I told my roommate that I had accepted a teaching job in Brooklyn, her jaw dropped.

“The school with the hour-and-a-half commute?” she asked.

“Well, technically three hours round trip,” I said. “But yes.”

Over the next six months, I continued to have similar conversations with friends, colleagues, and mentors. All of them thought I was crazy to trade my 25-minute commute from the Upper West Side to a Manhattan high school for an interborough expedition involving both the subway and a bus.

I had my doubts too. Research shows that more time spent commuting correlates with higher levels of fatigue and stress; another study reveals that longer commute times are associated with lower job and leisure-time satisfaction. Intuitively, “in transit” does not seem like a fun way to spend a decent chunk of one’s precious waking hours. I assumed I would tough it out for a year before finding a new job or moving closer to work.

But once I started commuting that far, I discovered something shocking: I loved it. In a postpandemic world where people are less willing than ever to travel for work, my long commute is the only thing keeping me sane.

Having hours of time on the train each week means I’m making unprecedented progress toward my goals of applying to grad school and regularly publishing essays. When I had a short commute, I tried waking up early to write for an hour before leaving for work, but maintaining the motivation to rise at 6 when I didn’t have to was difficult. Plus, I struggled to concentrate at home. I’d often get distracted by the dishwasher that I really should empty or the couch I could nap on for “just five minutes.” (It’s never just five minutes.)

Now I have three hours of guaranteed writing time every day, with home distractions out of sight and out of mind. I have a routine when I get on the subway: I stand next to the platform elevator to be directly in front of the train doors when they open. Then, I sit at the end of the bench to avoid getting squished between two strangers and place my laptop on its case, creating a makeshift desk. At first, I was convinced that everyone was judging me, but people are much more concerned with themselves or making sure they’re on the right train than they are with me. With my newfound time to work, I’ve even picked up an editing side gig that I complete solely on the subway. Not having consistent cell service to check Instagram means I’m especially focused.

When I’m not working during my commute, the quiet time to myself allows me to decompress from a chaotic day of managing teenagers. Teaching requires me to pivot with a moment’s notice based on how my students are feeling: Mia is about to blow up because Alejandro is in her seat? OK, pause my instruction and defuse the situation. The whole class enters the room, yelling about a fight they’ve just witnessed? Time to circulate to get people settled and facilitate an activity that channels their energy productively.

Life at home can be chaotic too. With a short commute, I found that having only 25 minutes before interacting with my roommates once again left me feeling stressed and overextended. My longer commute allows me to both work and have a little time to read, reflect on the day, or simply close my eyes so that I’m a calmer, more grounded person after I get home. Sure, there are people around me on the subway, but no one is going to ask me for anything.

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