Human Observation: Greyhound Bus

This story will give you a look into the life of the individuals who took the Greyhound bus on the 30th day of January, 2020. Each person was observed with intention and their actions were recorded. First I will describe what they did, then I will apply a few theories and/or perspectives to my observations.

I was dropped off the greyhound bus station on 700 S Tyler St, Amarillo, TX 79101. The time was 2:20am, the bus station was cold, dirty and eerily reminded me of The Salvation Army (homeless shelter). I was immediately triggered, and felt my life was in danger. Nevertheless, I paid for my ticket. (One foot in front of the other) As I walked into the station, I saw two elderly homeless men. One drank a seemingly warm liquid in a plastic container, as vapor from the warmth escaped his grasp. The other, rummaged through his pockets, claiming he had a bus ticket or at least money to buy another one. The ticket master skeptically scanned his body before turning him away. Buy a ticket or leave! What may one do to keep warm? I am unsure, but I am in agreement. He walked out into the cold, disappearing into the night. As I embrace the warmth, that mans soul so longed for, I turn my head to see a group of Hispanic men. They seemingly did not speak English. They huddled around each other, exchanging a dialog I could not understand. They smiled and shook their heads, “yes” at one another. In agreement of the task at hand. I would soon began to wonder, how far have you travelled? What are your traveling from? Traveling to? Maybe theirs a little girl, waiting for her father to get home. Tell me, has it been months since she's last seen you? or do you chat everyday? Is she what keeps you going? Or maybe a promise of better... did your heart began to beat once you knew their was better? (ohhh I'm nosy) I am in agreement brothers, better is coming!

Soon a line starts to form after the Ticket Master calls out on the intercom, “bus number 775 Flagstaff Arizona loading”. That's me! I walk towards the forming line and spotted a young black female, clenching her bag in the corner. She wore a black leather (or pleather?) jacket, jeans and no make up. She wore her straightened hair in a pony tail, she is young. She has not tasted life's fruits yet. We make eye contact, we are in agreement. She rises, heading towards the attendant before asking him if they will be loading soon. She has a thick southern accent, more so than the locals. Behind her follows in a heavy set Black male (he walks in kinghood) with a laptop in hand, a idol. A large set of head phones resting on his neck, his idol. The young man next to him states, “Yo, man I need them beats”. “fasho, patna”, the heavy set man said in response. The heavy set kinglike man has a thick accent as well, sounds like he may be from New Orleans.

As we load onto the bus, I hear the young man began heckle the bus driver, “ole Elmur Fudd ass boy” he exclaimed. “No smoking? I can’t smoke anyways; too many snitches on this bus!” he mocked the bus driver once more before settling down into his seat. Annoyed, I snatch my attention from the young man. I look directly across from me, over at the 30-something year old woman, her lap dog has accompanied her. She is muscular, with pink and blonde hair. She clenches her purse as she nestles into the seat, we are in agreement. (we wont be taking the bus again... if we don't have to.) When the attendant questioned her about the dog, she stated it was a therapeutic animal. Who can say what a man is not willing to say or do... to feel warmth?

I look one seat over and there is a man wearing a baggy, white jean jumpsuit. He is covered in nonprofessional tattoos (the kind you get in prison.) that stop at his face, white with a low-cut fade. His face is shaved with precision and he wore glasses. He was the first to go to sleep, this confirms he has came from a far worse place than the greyhound Bus station. Unlimited opportunity, dreams of better... visions of freedom cascade through his mind. His heart leaps of joy, his morning has come. (Psalms 30:5)

There was one thing I consistently observed throughout the observation, people who had commonality tended to group together. Which reminds me to my first choice, the constructionist perspective. Social constructionist believe we learn through interactions, to classify the world and their place in it. People interact with each other and the physical world based on shared meaning, or shared understandings about the world. Here I am, taking context clues and making them into fact. But one must remember, Judgement is just discernment without love. Don't forget that Love!

At the beginning of my observation, I saw the group of Hispanic men gathered together. I am confident that these men were strangers because they all had different destinations. Nevertheless, they huddled together. Postmodern theorist emphasize that race and gender are social constructions. In fact, in retrospect I noticed that I naturally and unintentionally gravitated toward other black people. I found myself sitting next to the black female and talking to her seemed easier compared to anyone else. In 2018, a group of professionals did a study on a group of 20 individuals, “Using laboratory economic games that quantitative variation in stereotypes about different groups’ warmth and competence translated meaningfully into resource allocation behavior toward those groups. Through advanced games, they were able to predict how the individuals would Together, these results shed light on the mechanisms by which preexisting, societal shared assumptions about the traits of different social groups, regardless of their accuracy, can affect how those groups are treated. Moreover, we find that dimensions of social perception have quantitative structure, which enables them to be linked meaningfully to behavior across both laboratory and field settings.”

I lift my head up above the rows of seats, I scan the tops of nearly every passenger’s head. Each human is here for one reason or another. Rather it be they are moving, going on vacation, visiting family or friends. Every person is unique and valuable, which brings me to my next perspective. The humanistic perspective emphasizes an individual’s freedom of action and search for meaning. Each individual on this greyhound bus is searching for meaning, no matter the reason they are on this trip. Including me, I am in agreement.

I asked the black female how old she was. She replied, “19”. She went on to say she was traveling to Las Vegas to be with her boyfriend. She told her grandmother that it was her time to become a woman and she needed room to grow. This young lady is making an extreme change, in hopes that she may come into complete autonomy.

Mark Piper wrote an article on autonomy, he states, "As has become ever clearer since Freud, we are notoriously opaque to ourselves. We habitually deceive ourselves in myriad ways, including overrating our abilities and indulging in extensive wishful thinking. Our subjectivity operates at subconscious and unconscious. There are clear connections here with Aristotle’s work on the demands associated with moral virtue in Book II of the Nicomachean Ethics. These conditions cast doubt on the notion that actions that arise from established habits—even habits established by reflection and effort of a strength sufficient to consider those habits autonomously established—automatically confer autonomy on subsequent actions that comport with those habits.”

The young black female stated she did not like to work, nor did she like school. She said she wanted to do great things, but her actions showed otherwise. I feel we, as a society, have always overrated our abilities. In fact, I saw myself in this young lady as well. Claiming I want one thing, but my actions prove otherwise. As humans, we tend to cling to what we know. Which disables us, because we can’t learn anything new. I am not proud to say, But I too am in agreement.

Part 2 will not be about others, but about myself. Stay tuned for spiritual awakening aspects of this crazy ride to Las Vegas, modern day Sodom and Gomorrah.