Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 95

“It happened so quickly. I’d just quit my job at an after...

“It happened so quickly.  I’d just quit my job at an after school program. I’d been unemployed for three days.  I was waiting for my train at the 125th Street Station, and I noticed so much animosity.  It didn’t feel like a sharing and caring kind of place.  So I said to myself: ‘I’m going to help change the pace.’  I went to visit my high school chorus teacher, Mr. Williams, and I told him: ‘I want to sing on 125th Street.’  He thought it was great idea.  He said that he’d done the same thing when he was my age.  Together we found a cheap amp and microphone, and I gave it a try.  My first day was a Tuesday.  I stood on the downtown platform.  I’d never sung in public before.  I was so nervous that I couldn’t find my voice.  I wasn’t exactly mute, but I wasn’t fully singing either.  Then an old lady came up to me.  I’m pretty sure she was an angel.  She told me: ‘Sing Whitney Houston.’  Then she stood there, and kept saying: ‘Louder, louder, louder,’ until I was singing full volume.  I made $60 that day.  And I got so much positive feedback.  Now I’m singing four days a week and making enough to provide for me and my daughter.  And I get so much love.  So much love.  So, so much love.“

“Ten years ago I started a company. It wasn’t a unicorn or...

“Ten years ago I started a company.  It wasn’t a unicorn or anything, but after a few years it was worth a couple million dollars.  And that was enough for me.  I never wanted to be Bill Gates.  All I wanted was financial security.  And I thought I had achieved it.  We had a deal on the table.  It seemed like a sure thing.  It got so far along that I was sketching out my retirement.  But at the last moment it blew apart, and we never recovered.  Last Friday I called a personal bankruptcy attorney.  I haven’t even told my wife yet.  I want her to know the truth, but I don’t want to freak her out.  The stress is fucking killing me.  And I just turned sixty, so I’m grappling with the notion that I might not be employable.  After being successful for my whole life, suddenly I’m a failure.  But I’m trying not to let the dark side take over.  I’m fighting off suicidal thoughts.  I’m measuring my success by how well I can keep my humanity in the midst of this trauma.  If I can maintain respect for other people, it helps me feel better about myself.  So I’m trying not to snap at anyone.  I’m trying not to be vicious with my wife.  If I can’t be a successful person right now, at least I can be a good person.  And that’s a form of success.”

“The first time I tried it was in junior year of college. I...

“The first time I tried it was in junior year of college.  I bought it from some guy in the library.  I was in acting school, and there was so much pressure put on our senior year showcase.  The pill gave me so much energy.  I remember making a seven-page spreadsheet of all the agents in New York, including their address, specialty, and preferred method of contact.  Adderall gave me an ‘in’ to caring.    It’s so hard to be an actor in New York.  You have to want it so badly.  But I’d always struggled with depression and lack of motivation.  I thought I’d finally found the solution.  I just went to the psychiatrist and told them I needed a prescription.  It was so easy to get.  It went from every week, to every other day, to every day.  I built my life around it.  It got to the point where I’d never leave the house or coffee shop.  I wasn’t even getting real work done.  I was just doing random shit.  I’d write songs, tinker with my website, and send random messages to people I hardly knew.  I wasn’t sleeping.  I hardly ate.  And the moment I stopped taking the pill, I’d feel disgusting.  I was destroying my body.  But the thing about Adderall is,  if you don’t tell anyone, nobody really knows.  From the outside it just looks like you’re motivated and working hard.  But you’re horribly addicted.  You look like you.  But it’s not really you.”

“I grew up in Australia. For the first twenty-three years of my...

“I grew up in Australia.  For the first twenty-three years of my life, I lived and worked and partied within the space of a mile.  I had no goals.  I went out every night of the week.  But then in 2007 I went to visit a friend in Japan.  It was my first time on a plane, and suddenly I became addicted to the feeling of seeing something new.  I’ve travelled to fifty-one countries over the past ten years.  From March to October I work as a bartender on a small Scottish island.  I don’t take days off.  And that allows me to save enough money for another six months of travel, as long as I book far in advance.  And stay in hostels.  And limit myself to two meals a day.  I always avoid the expensive attractions.  My favorite thing to do is sit in parks.  After this I’m headed to Niagara Falls.  Then it’s up to Alaska.  I’m not sure what the end goal is.  I don’t have a bucket list.  I don’t feel the need to see every country.  In the beginning I was running away from my partying.  But now I’m just addicted to the unfamiliar.  Most of my friends are starting families and settling into their careers.  And I don’t have any savings.  So there are definitely times when I question if it’s worth it, but never while I’m traveling.” 

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad early in life. I want to be...

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad early in life.  I want to be energetic and active and mobile.  I’d like my parents to experience being grandparents.  My dad was thirty-three when I was born, so that’s always been a bit of a benchmark.  And unfortunately it just passed by.  But it’s not something I have any control over. In every other area of life, I can make progress by putting in work.  I can practice.  I can gain new skills.  But the harder I pursue having a family, the further away it seems.  It’s difficult to enter a relationship with children in mind.  It complicates things.  You ask heavy questions a little earlier than you should.  So I just do my best to put it out of my mind.  I’m in town for an engagement party right now, and last night I crashed with an old college friend.  This morning I helped feed his baby son.  I was pretty good at it.  He’s a picky eater, so I had to pretend to take bites myself.  I had to make funny faces.  I had to ‘boop’ him on the nose with the spoon.  But I got him to eat his breakfast.  And I guess it was the novelty of feeding someone, but the whole experience just rekindled the notion of: ‘I want this for myself.’”

“We lived in a small room. Newborn baby. No space. And we...

“We lived in a small room.  Newborn baby.  No space.  And we were both artists, so instead of giving each other what little space we had, we’d use it to create.  While she was breastfeeding, I’d run away early in the morning to work on a book that I never ended up finishing.  We would talk a lot, but it was always about survival.  So the dynamic of marriage never really set in.  And she ended up leaving me for someone else.  The first few months were unbearable.  Every time I went to visit our daughter, I’d have to shut the door on a home they’d created with someone else.  But it was never a toxic divorce.  We always remained a family, regardless of the paperwork.  We had no choice.  Her new relationship didn’t last, and it’s too difficult to raise a child in this city on your own.  I made enough with art sales one year to help them move into a new apartment.  And she’s allowed me to sleep there for different periods when I’ve been between homes.  My ex-wife is still the person I’m closest to.  And we’ve managed to raise an amazing kid together.  We talk about everything except relationships and lovers.  The three of us even go on vacations together.  I’m still attracted to her, so there will always be a bit of an open wound when we’re together.  But that’s life.  I’d rather feel a little pain than miss out on the experience of raising our daughter.”

“My therapist told me that reading the news was causing my...

“My therapist told me that reading the news was causing my depression.  So I’ve managed to completely avoid it for the past five years.  I used to consume articles for four hours every day.  I’d always read the New York Times front to back, everything except the sports section.  But then the Times caused the Iraq war so I switched over to leftist websites.  I always thought it was my obligation as a responsible citizen to pay attention to bad news.  I guess I was looking for some sort of understanding.  If only I could learn enough, then maybe I could help organize something.  But all of it just sent me into utter despair.  I began to look at other people as brainwashed.  Every time I saw someone having kids, I’d get angry.  Don’t they realize how uninhabitable the planet is going to be?  Everyone thinks if we just make a few changes, we’ll be fine.  We won’t be fine.  The problem is systemic and there’s no movement capable of ending capitalism in time to save the planet.  But anyway, I’m trying not to obsess over this stuff anymore.”

“I’m trying to be an installation artist, but it can be tough to...

“I’m trying to be an installation artist, but it can be tough to sell your work. I love fairytales because they juxtapose romance and beauty with people getting their feet cut off.  So my last piece was a three-tiered chandelier of hundreds of honey bears suspended by their necks with vice grips, and dripping honey onto a bed of poisonous flowers.”

“I’ve known most of my close friends since I was four or five....

“I’ve known most of my close friends since I was four or five.  We went to the same schools.  We’d go to the same summer camps together.  So for the first eighteen years of my life, I was never really forced to meet new people.  But last year I went to college in North Carolina, and it was the first time that I didn’t know anybody.  During orientation they had some sort of street fair so that you could meet new people.  I followed a bunch of guys from my dorm there.  I tried jumping into the conversation a few times, but it seemed like everyone was talking to each other more.  Eventually they peeled off, and I just walked up and down the street alone.  That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the semester.  It was the longest four months of my life.  It seemed like everyone was making friends except me.  Or they’d already formed groups and weren’t accepting new people.  I kept hearing other kids making plans after class, and it was a reminder that other people were making connections that I couldn’t.  I spent most of my free time alone in my room.  I’d sleep through entire weekends.  I felt like a broken social person.  Recently I transferred to a school closer to home, and it’s been much better.  There were a few familiar faces, which helped.  But I’ve also relearned how to make friends.  I’ve joined a few groups.  I’ve put myself out there more.  I’m being more consistent with people.  And I’m trying not to take it personally if someone says ‘no’ to an invitation.  I’ve met some new friends this year.  And I’ve realized that being social isn’t really something you are.  It’s something you have to practice.”

“Have you ever thought about how we’re living in a society...

“Have you ever thought about how we’re living in a society designed to give us anything we want, but we’re essentially the same people who lived during tribal times?  We’re catering to the same base needs like warmth and sex and social gratification, but we’re doing so through unnatural means.  If you think about it, the scrolling mechanism on a phone is a bit like strolling through a forest.  We still come across unknown things.  But now the first judgment that comes to our mind is immediately reinforced.  We can say “I like it,” and we’ll be given more of the same.  Or we can say ‘I don’t like it,’ and the thing will go away forever.  That single mechanism ascribes permanence to our most basic instincts.  We’re never forced to ask: ‘Why do I like it?’  Or ‘Should I like it?’  We’re living in a world that always adapts to us, so we never have to adapt to the world.  I wonder how that affects us.  I also wonder why we like squirrels but hate rats.  Because they’re both rodents.”