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<rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" version="2.0"><channel><atom:link rel="hub" href="http://tumblr.superfeedr.com/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"/><description></description><title>Humans of New York</title><generator>Tumblr (3.0; @humansofnewyork)</generator><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/</link><item><title>“What was the happiest day of your life?”“When...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/7e13ccc4ca507c2a746c8474023c9a8b/tumblr_molv5v67ej1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“What was the happiest day of your life?”&lt;br/&gt;“When I got this job.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53300488977</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53300488977</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 16:20:19 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I’m a Brooklyn Assistant D.A. I work on domestic...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/1de8a9579ade8650b79cd59b2c557202/tumblr_molpx5qku01qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I’m a Brooklyn Assistant D.A. I work on domestic violence cases— many of them homicides. Some of the crime scenes are just gruesome. It’s the same stuff soldiers see in a war. I see this stuff, I smell this stuff, it’s hard to get out of your mind. And even when I win a case, it’s hard to feel like I’m making a difference. It’s a never-ending cycle of violence. The offenders are so likely to offend again. And the women are likely to go right back to them, or find themselves in a similar relationship. The work is so tough, and it feels like I’m not even making a dent.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53292299563</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53292299563</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 14:27:05 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>Seen on the subway.</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/06348e79d76b1821b7b4ad1222bd4625/tumblr_molit09qw31qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seen on the subway.&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53282477627</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53282477627</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 11:53:24 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“When our friends are discussing something, he’ll...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/06cffe36a787daf3ff71626af6d3fb15/tumblr_molf1dZZsp1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“When our friends are discussing something, he’ll just sit back quietly and observe. So when he finally does say something, it’s very considered and carries a lot of weight.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53278142975</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53278142975</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 10:32:01 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I grew up in this house. I was actually standing right...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/b4aa34d59a5b873a067b5e5d0f2c7dd5/tumblr_mokojy7mK91qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I grew up in this house. I was actually standing right here when I first saw my husband. I was ten years old, and he came riding by on his bike, and I said: ‘I want to know that boy!’” &lt;br/&gt;“Is he inside?”&lt;br/&gt;“He passed away in 2000. But we had 37 good years together.” &lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53255735512</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53255735512</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:59:58 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“Do you remember the happiest moment of your...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/a7d76c5019c4148afaf0d0e484797245/tumblr_mokjqyM7DA1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Do you remember the happiest moment of your life?”&lt;br/&gt;“Yep. My 15th birthday.”&lt;br/&gt;“What happened?”&lt;br/&gt;“It was a month before my mom passed away. She pretended like she’d forgotten my birthday, and didn’t say anything to me all morning. I was so mad that day at school. But when I got home, she’d made this huge cake for me. I was so happy.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53248784043</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53248784043</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 23:16:10 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“What was the saddest moment of your...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/6a88e8305f33b2770a1b5d960f7d576f/tumblr_mok0aajI2h1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“What was the saddest moment of your life?”&lt;br/&gt;“When my good friend died.”&lt;br/&gt;“What’s the best day you ever spent together?”&lt;br/&gt;“Sitting in the woods, in the fall, skipping rocks.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53218508087</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53218508087</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 16:15:46 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“Where I grew up, everyone called each other...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/38dec8208090fb2f7979c44be624519f/tumblr_mojtxqqI651qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Where I grew up, everyone called each other ‘nigger’ all the time. It was meant to be endearing, but I don’t think it’s healthy. Words have energy. If you were to refer to a child as ‘satan’ his entire life, how do you think he’d turn out? So I’m trying something new. Whenever I see someone, I refer to them as ‘mister’ or ‘missus.’ I’m trying to put that energy onto people.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53208656405</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53208656405</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 13:58:38 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I was sixteen and raising myself. My friends gave me...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/80150d94e5985b14a792637a063d7f46/tumblr_mojqdtlX7S1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I was sixteen and raising myself. My friends gave me money just to drive the car. It seemed safe.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53203614825</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53203614825</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 12:41:53 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I’m a street pharmacist.”</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/4f5330a237b3c76dc6c456fb2d1d40af/tumblr_mojkd3Gnta1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I’m a street pharmacist.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53196290530</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53196290530</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 10:31:51 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“What’s the best part about being a...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/984778da60878b99114e96600bef2cb3/tumblr_moisbfi8rq1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“What’s the best part about being a grandfather?”&lt;br/&gt;“I know what I’m doing this time around.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53171287877</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53171287877</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 00:26:03 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>En garde!</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/93ce93cf3f516eadb30b3a3b3f848127/tumblr_moiq6cFIjx1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;En garde!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53168006417</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53168006417</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 23:39:47 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“It was easier to meet people back in Mali. People would...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/8e0ea21d87e635de5b12c734a249fd75/tumblr_moiiw1WyVN1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“It was easier to meet people back in Mali. People would speak to each other on the street. Here, people keep their distance. If you want to make a friend, you have to do it at the office or a club.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53156439974</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53156439974</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 21:02:25 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I’ve got a problem with procrastination. And...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/410a5241486888a87cb9c05eafe9ea5c/tumblr_moibzs9IdC1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I’ve got a problem with procrastination. And it’s especially bad now, because I’ve got this opportunity to write for a music magazine. The thing is… I know what I should be doing: reaching out to bands, doing interviews, networking with new bands before they get big. I know that it’s going to involve hustling every single day. And I hope this doesn’t make me sound like a loser, but I have trouble getting revved up on any given day to start down the path.”&lt;br/&gt;“Can I give one piece of advice?”&lt;br/&gt;“Sure.”&lt;br/&gt;“Instead of focusing on the million things you need to do to be successful, focus on two or three things you can do to move forward each day. The quickest way out of paralysis is a simple daily routine.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53146213294</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53146213294</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 18:33:28 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“Even before he could talk, we’d have these mental...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/7a51a91dfe8f2874c8b075d5bb9d56c5/tumblr_moi4lrmLAy1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Even before he could talk, we’d have these mental conversations with our eyes.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53134418129</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53134418129</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 15:53:50 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/9ec55590fa7b9dd523f3573881bd7450/tumblr_mohtbcPf3j1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?”&lt;br/&gt;“Take those phones you’re on, shove em’ up your arses, and go to work.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53117676744</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53117676744</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 11:50:00 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“Every nickel I have goes to rent and student loans. You...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/67d4760693c0ef5ace1feeb73d623247/tumblr_mohrf0U4IR1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Every nickel I have goes to rent and student loans. You know what I eat every day? Half a dozen eggs and four cans of these beans.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53115285341</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53115285341</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jun 2013 11:09:00 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“I came to America when I was 14. My mother told me that...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/43f10f64ac82d2b02294f67452a1b4d6/tumblr_moggkbD0EW1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I came to America when I was 14. My mother told me that books were too heavy to bring, and I had this crazy idea that I’d never be able to replace them, so I copied all my favorite Russian poems by hand.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53054480473</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53054480473</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Jun 2013 18:16:59 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>“Right now I’m not even sure if college is for...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/3fc9b264ccaf90c9233ad321536f100a/tumblr_mogb8venIb1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Right now I’m not even sure if college is for me.”&lt;br/&gt;“Why’s that?”&lt;br/&gt;“Well, I’m going to sound a bit like a hippy… but everyone tells you to ‘follow your own path,’ then you’re put into an institution where you’re funneled down these predetermined tracks. Then you’re packaged up and regurgitated back into society. Like you’re a GI Joe. Or a Barbie.” &lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53047015335</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53047015335</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Jun 2013 16:22:07 -0400</pubDate></item><item><title>After I took his photo, we started talking, and I suggested that...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/2d902fc0033777ef4819e7364492165c/tumblr_mofzn3Trki1qggwnvo1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;After I took his photo, we started talking, and I suggested that he may want to move out of the road a bit. “You should move out of the road,” he said. “Nobody’s gonna hit a Hispanic guy, cause they know they’ll have to fight.”&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53030987027</link><guid>http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/53030987027</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Jun 2013 12:11:27 -0400</pubDate></item></channel></rss>
