Going to School in Manhattan

I think that when you just visit New York in short bursts for either work or pleasure, it's easy to forget that people actually LIVE here and that they do all the day-to-day things that anyone else would, albeit in a sometimes very different manner.

Lately, I've been reflecting a lot about what it must be like to grow up and go to school in New York.

I live in a neighbourhood where there are many, many schools. I am walking distance to Julliard, Fordham University, the John Jay College of Criminal Justice and a variety of middle and high schools, including Laguardia High School, an extremely renowned performing arts school -- think "Fame".

While the college side of things doesn't faze me too much, I constantly find myself marveling at what it must be like to attend elementary, middle and high school in New York City.

I remember back to my school days and the limitless space we had outside -- playgrounds... sandboxes... soccer, baseball and football fields, all perfectly groomed. It makes me sad to walk by these schools and see that the extent of their outdoor space is a square bit of concrete, encased by a tall chain link fence.

I constantly see kids piling out of taxis in front of the schools and think wryly that I also took a yellow vehicle to school -- but it was a school bus, driven by a perpetually sour driver, and carried about 50 other screaming kids who had juice boxes instead of Starbuck's cups. Well, at least I didn't have to figure out how much to tip the driver every day.

There is an honours middle school that I walk by almost every day on my way back and forth to work. There is a student-painted mural along the brick wall lining one of the sidewalks and at first, it seems like an uplifting, idyllic scene set in the African savannah with animals peacefully co-existing side by side. But wait, when you look a little more closely, you see a lion aggressively taking down a zebra, the latter's body wrenched in a painfully unnatural pose, even for a cartoon-type drawing. Simply the imagination of a shrewd 13-year old with a clear understanding about the circle of life, or a metaphorical commentary about the "eat or be eaten" mentality of Manhattan?