‘Head down, keep walking’

But it turns out that there are places where these social norms simply don’t apply. In fact, they just might get you mugged, or even killed.

Some places are more conducive to friendly behavior than others. Vermont, for example, is a friendly place. When we arrived in the Stowe area a decade ago, I was surprised by the warmth and openness of the people I met. I spent the first 18 years of my life in the South, where people are — at least on the surface — syrupy sweet and welcoming. But I didn’t expect to find the same hospitality in the Northeast.

During my first week as a Vermont resident, a stranger in a grocery store wiped my toddler’s nose, while another laced up his dangling boot. A few days later, I was pushing my son in his stroller, and a neighbor invited us in for tea. And not soon thereafter, standing in line for a cup of coffee, a local man struck up a conversation and sent me away with a scrap of paper with his name and phone number; he and his wife would be happy to show us around. Everyone was extraordinarily welcoming.

This was not my experience when I first visited the Northeast a decade earlier. I’ll never forget the first time I drove through a New Jersey toll plaza. Until that point in my life, I thought car horns were only for true emergencies, like when you were about to hit someone. So the toll plaza experience was a bit of a shock — the blazing horns and cars edging their way in front of me. One guy rolled down his window and screamed obscenities at the guy in the next car.

If there were toll roads in the South, more accidents would be caused by people politely slamming on the brakes to allow their neighbor first dibs. In New Jersey, it’s every man for himself.

But over time I grew to appreciate the passion of New Jerseyans. In fact, I later married a man from New Jersey, and we spent our first year of married life in the Garden State. I enjoyed living there, as long as I was dealing with people individually and not as a mass. The people were refreshingly real and the food was great.

But it was stressful. I remember meeting my husband at the grocery store one night. Exhausted, after spending an extra 20 minutes trying to figure out how to get from one side of the highway to the next, I finally arrived in the grocery store parking lot only to have a woman nab my parking space just as I was pulling in. I knew then that I didn’t have the emotional strength to survive in that dog-eat-dog world.

I took everything far too personally. And this was a real problem on my commute into Manhattan. It took me a while to unlearn all of the social norms I’d been taught growing up, and learn new ones: Don’t acknowledge anyone, don’t expect them to acknowledge you, and don’t have hurt feelings about it.

When navigating through a big city, on foot or subway, you really have to compartmentalize to stay on top of your game, and this affects how you interact with others. You can’t afford to make eye contact, because that person may very well ask you for money or try to sell you something.

After a 15-year hiatus, my husband and I recently returned to New York for a visit, this time with our kids. Although our children have spent their entire lives in Vermont, they’re not so different from me when I first ventured north from my Southern home. As I watched them react to city life for the first time, I was reminded of the naive, twentysomething me searching for a friendly face on the subway car.

All their lives, I’ve worked hard to teach my kids about manners — how to greet people, hold the door for the person behind them, offer help when needed, and carry on polite conversation during routine activities. None of these rules apply on city streets.

Our family’s first hard lesson came in Times Square. We momentarily let our guard down, and Minnie Mouse and Cookie Monster grabbed both kids, posed for a photo, and then demanded money. After that uncomfortable experience, our kids began to walk through the streets with their eyes down, afraid to make eye contact with the man playing guitar on the sidewalk or the lady dressed like the Statue of Liberty, or anyone, for that matter. Over the span of three days, we had all begun to behave differently. We were guarded, and not the least bit friendly.

But as a family we had a fantastic time in the big city. We went to museums, saw historic landmarks, and ate like kings. It was a high sensory experience.

Yesterday, while reminiscing about our action-packed vacation, I asked my kids, “What was the most interesting thing you learned in New York?” My daughter replied, without missing a beat, “Put your head down and keep walking.”

Amanda Kuhnert lives and writes in Stowe. Comment on this article here, or email letters to news@stowereporter.com.