Collegiate Times

Katie Biondo & Luke Mason

Autopilot: Functioning in an unthinking or reflexive manner.

Most are familiar with the term. Most people do it, function on autopilot that is. Perhaps it is easier to perform habitual routines daily, focusing only on ourselves and the tasks at hand, than recognize those around us.

But for Alyson Neel, adapting to a busy schedule while interning with the Cook Political Report in Washington, D.C., didn’t stop her from taking time for others.

As a southerner, the Louisiana State University graduate was unaware of Metro behavior when she arrived in D.C., two summers ago.

With dozens of people jammed into a small train — perspiring because it is not only awkward to have their noses stuck in another’s armpit, but hot from the warm bodies jumbled together — it is uncomfortable to start a conversation with fellow riders. Sly glances are made at the man catching a snooze in the corner, snoring obnoxiously, but no mouths open and no hands poke him in the arm. Strangers are not to be bothered — right?

Neel explained that where she is from, people make eye contact, say hello and relay good mornings to strangers — practically foreign etiquette to northerners.

“It took me a few weeks to really realize that no, you are not supposed to talk to everyone on the Metro,” Neel said, laughing.

But, on a standard summer morning, Neel experienced something out of the ordinary on the Metro.

“I was on my way to work, and it was morning rush hour,” Neel said. “And, I just got on, and by this point, I knew the unwritten rule of ‘You just ride.’”

Inches away from Neel sat a young man dressed professionally. Because he was so close to her face, Neel quickly noticed he was upset — wringing his hands, shaking his head. Neel said he looked like he was about to cry, and she was in such close proximity to him that she was staring unintentionally.

“What do you say?” Neel asked. “It is one of those things where you want to say something or reach out somehow, but people don’t really look or talk or communicate on the Metro.”

While Neel stared at the young man, he looked up, making eye contact. Neel said she gave him a look she would give a friend whose family member just died. She smiled at him to convey she was sorry for whatever he was going through.

Embarrassed by the exchange, Neel stared down when the Metro came to a stop, but the young man stood up and touched her on the shoulder.

“The guy goes, ‘You probably already forgot what you did. It didn’t seem like a big deal. This year has been the worst year of my life,’” Neel said, recalling the young man’s words. “‘What you just did a second ago, though really small, that is probably the most anyone has reached out to me ever in this past year.’”

The young man then rolled up his shirtsleeve. At this point, Neel said her mouth was agape.

He was wearing a green wristband. He told Neel he wasn’t sure of the meaning behind the wristband, but it represented a pay-it-forward notion. He then thanked Neel and handed it to her.

“And that was it,” Neel said.

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That green wristband was one of 2,000 given out on the Virginia Tech campus in 2008 for Actively Caring, a movement with a basic idea: Individuals can create a more compassionate world every day with a simple act of kindness.

If a person sees someone else perform a friendly act, then they take their wristband off, thank the person for caring and pass it on. This gesture creates a chain reaction among strangers.

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A version of this article appeared in the Jan 28 issue of the Collegiate Times.