Starting out, I thought I knew what I was doing.
Sitting alone on a bench at 9:30pm at the Grant Avenue train station in Brooklyn with a 25lb backpack strapped on, a stroller, and a four-year old, I wasn’t sure anymore.
I looked around and there was no one else on the platform. There were no monitors to tell me how far away the train was. I held the stroller with one hand, clutched my daughter’s arm tightly with the other, and shook my right foot repeatedly in anticipation.