January 1st, I think, is a day that provides a fresh beginning from everything before.  For hundreds of years this day has been the harbinger of hope and renewal.  As I lie in bed watching the sunlight stream through the windows having no plans for the coming hours, this day shrouded with such excitement seems to begin quite mundane.  This would all change.  As I continue to envision my day I hear a thud followed by footsteps as soundless as a tight ropewalker’s, which signals that somebody else is getting out of bed.  Almost immediately, my door swings open and my mom screams, “Get your things together, we’re going to New York.” 
     Filled with bewilderment, I swing up from my bed and question, “Are you serious? What?”
     My mother replies, “We just made last minute plans to stay in New York City at the Hyatt Times Square Hotel.  We will be staying only one night, so hurry up, we are leaving soon.”
     I scurry off to my room and in a scramble gather clothes, stuffing them into my backpack.  Clothes are flying everywhere and in a complete fiasco I am desperately attempting not to forget anything.  After I am done packing, I throw my belongings into the car, plop myself in the backseat, and preoccupy myself with Instagram while waiting for the rest of my family.  I sit for a good while; finally, I turn so that I have direct vision of the clock in the car and see that it is 7:10 A.M.  I sit for five minutes watching the clock tick from 7:10 to 7:15.  With each tick, I grow more and more restless until finally I jump out of the car and go screaming for the rest of my family.  Just as I am about to yell for their whereabouts, they all come filing from the hall just as newly made cars on an assembly line.  I wait for all of them to pass me and then turn around and head back towards the car.  Everyone jumps into the automobile and I follow quickly adjusting my headphones onto my head.  Then, my mother turns the keys to start the ignition, the car roars with power, and we are heading towards a whole new journey. 
     I sit in the car with my head pressing against the cold window for nearly three hours just listening to the blaring music coming from my headphone speakers, until my ears begin to hurt.  Not an auditory pain, but a physical pain just above the earlobes from having the headphones on my ears.  Instantly, I go from being immersed in my secluded world of music to hearing the senseless, discordant chatter of my family.  My mother is expressing her ideas on what we should eat tonight, Italian or Chinese, while my sister is off in her remoteness singing aloud the lyrics to a song.  After ten minutes of this, I break my silence and interject into the conversation my idea of having Pizza for dinner. 
     My mother nods with consideration, but my stepfather clashingly says, “ I want to eat at Katz's Delicatessen, a Jewish restaurant, that I heard it is really good.  That’s all I want to do, you guys can do whatever else you want.”
     Subsequently, I utter one word, “Okay”
     My mother then says, “It is decided, that is where we will go.  I heard it was good from Christina at work too.”
     I then sit back and observe all the trees and houses flying by at what seems an impossible speed.  Over the course of twenty minutes the tall trees turn into houses and apartment buildings with warn out facades.  I purse my head up trying to get a glimpse of New York City, but despite the increasingly urban setting it is still nowhere to be found. 
     Abruptly, my mom turns to me and requests, “Turn on your navigation because I don’t know where these directions are taking me.”
     I respond, “Okay, no problem.” and reach for my phone turning on the navigation; however, it is too late and my mom, facing the dilemma to turn right or go straight, instinctively keeps going straight.
     This takes us over a bridge and that is where I see it: the populous megacity of New York and all its glory, from the burrows of Harlem to the tip of Battery Park.  I have little time to marvel at this site and quickly navigate my mom back over the George Washington Bridge and towards the Henry Hudson Parkway that runs along the west side of the city.  With each minute, the buildings grow taller and my excitement bigger, until I can not wait to hop out of the car and walk around to see all the city’s greatness.  Eventually, the spotlight of New York’s skyscrapers comes into view, the Freedom Tower.  Topping out at 1,792 feet, it is the tallest building in the western hemisphere.  Immediately, I realize that if I can see the Freedom tower, then we must be near Ground Zero; we park and get out of the car.  After a two-minute walk the entire hum and buzz of New York suddenly dies down and the silence in the air is like the desolate countryside.  I look around and I see it.  I see Ground Zero, the site where thousands of people’s lives were ended in a few moments of horrid terrorism.  I walk nearer and see tens of thousands of letters that make up the thousands of names of the victims of the attacks.  I am overcome with sadness as I reflect on what has taken place here and almost get lost in time watching the water slowly trickle of the sides of the memorial and down into the endless pit.  We walk all around the memorials and find our way back to the car.
     We drive around the financial center hearing endless beeping from nearby cars and I see Wall Street and the New York Stock Exchange.  Rounding a corner, I see the famous bronze Charging Bull.  All four of us get out of the car and see a massive crowd full of tourists trying to get a photo op in front of the bull.  We plunge into the crowd and my mom quickly takes a picture of my sister and I in front of the bull just as another dark haired person squeezes there way in to take their picture.  Withdrawing from the bull, we go back to the car and drive away.
     Slowly, turn-by-turn, we make our way towards the hotel and I see skyscraper after skyscraper jutting into the sky.  As we take a left, I realize that we have become lost once again because we are passing Central Park and our hotel is before the park near Times Square.  I voice my opinion and we turn around onto a one-way street forthwith. After a few short minutes, I realize that this street is not any old street. Building after building I see leather handbags and expensive sweaters.  It is Fifth Avenue, the focal point of luxurious, extravagant brands and fashion in America.  For some time, I just sit and marvel over the exorbitantly priced apparel being sold that we cannot possibly afford.  I am abruptly shaken from my trance as we take a left onto Forty-Fifth Street and I see a tall glass building labeled with the letters H-Y-A-T-T.  We remove our luggage from the car and a chauffeur drives it off to a parking garage.  After, all of us enter through the glass revolving doors and check in.  Then, we all go into the elevator and ascend to the 30th floor where I hover the room key over the lock sensor and the door clicks opens.  The room is the pinnacle of opulence: heated floors in the bathroom, a waterfall shower, light switches with mood settings.  By far the most breathtaking feature of the room is the window.  The window stretches the entire length of the room, providing a 180-degree panoramic view of the city.  I run closer and look out the window, instantaneously feeling microscopic.  I am peering out into another building with a man running on a treadmill and a women working in her office.  They are perhaps ten feet apart, but are divided by a wall and unaware of each other’s existence.  There are hundreds of instances of this phenomena occurring around me and I slowly realize that I am them.  Just as I see them, they see me, another person walking around in their own cubicle among millions, nothing to set us apart.  I feel awestruck by this idea and retreat from the window, lie down on the bed, and watch some TV while my family settles in.
     “Where would you guys like to go”, says my mom.
     I respond, “Well I want to see Times Square, obviously, and the Empire State building too.”
     My sister then says, “Yeah, I want to see Times Square too.”
     Accordingly, my mom replies, “Okay then, let’s go before it gets too late.  We’ll go to the Empire State building first because it is still light out.”
     As the rest of my family mobilizes, I sit in thought remembering Ground Zero and staring out the window as if blindness has taken over me.  I think of all the people around me; the millions of pairs of hands and eyes.  I wonder how malignant an individual has to be to take the life of not just a single human being, but thousands.  These people had sons and daughters and grandparents and friends--people who loved them.  I then realize that this was a manifestation of human division and intolerance.  Despite this, I ponder, the differences in our skin color, religion, and gender preferences are nuances of minimal importance; however, we as humans create this into a monolithic divide that creates only destruction.  We exacerbate the wound and continually feed prejudice and bigotry, but why?  It’s all for nothing and provides no improvement to our society.
     With a final thought I conclude that our world is changing and although discrimination is slowly disappearing from its corners, it is not fully halted.  No person should ever participate in any form of social injustice and with this our world will become a better place.  Still deep in reflection, I phlegmatically climb out of the bed and walk out the door to my next adventure remembering never to forget my pursuit to eliminate the injustices of the world.