"The Invisible Man" by Kinza Riaz is a stunningly insightful piece that explores an unfortunate truth concerning those who are unemployed and homeless in today's society. In the memoir, Riaz recalls a seemingly typical day in which she was begrudgingly trudging through a bustling subway station, seeking a place of rest for her aching feet. Although she finds an unoccupied bench, her excitement subsides as she spots a hooded figure with a gruesome scar that cuts across his face slumped against the wall next to the bench. Her sore feet prompt her to sit and she hesitantly does so, reassuring herself that if anything were to happen there were hundreds upon hundreds of witnesses surrounding her. Observing the hooded man and those scurrying around her, she gradually comes to the realization that scarcely any individuals paid him any mind at all, despite his forlorn state. An older man Riaz describes as "Old Man Winter" approaches the hooded figure, seemingly in the same unfortunate situation as him. After watching an exchange of kindness between the two beggars, Riaz is saddened and feels embarrassed at her initial judgement of the man, so she approaches him and gives him a few bills, silently encouraging him with a smile to treat himself to something warm that chilly evening. This account of her small act of consideration and concern spreads warmth throughout me and truly inspires me to be open-minded and compassionate.

    Often, when I stalk briskly through the hordes of people on Manhattan's streets, I manage to catch a glimpse of various individuals less fortunate than myself, woefully huddling in the shadows present in the crevices of buildings or beginnings of alleyways. Although a pang of guilt does strike my heart, the closest I usually come to confronting them is a brief fault in my stride and a slight slouch in my posture. In a split second I regain my composure and continue to my destination, unfazed by the momentary disturbance. In this way I am at the mercy of Riaz's words when she writes "I realized, then, that to most, this man was invisible, like Old Man Winter and the lady with the hollow face sitting on the bench across the station from me, and to the few who saw him, he was a monster, waiting to hurt them and take their money". From the mentality I was raised with, and one I believe all of us -at least to some degree- were, strangers are considered dangerous, and their bad choices are the only aspects to be credited as the cause for their lives on the streets. The trepidation of the possibility of my life being on the line holds me back, even though subconsciously I know it shouldn't. In this way Riaz has taught me to take a moment to spread the generosity I know I have within me and to never assume something of someone purely based on their appearance and current situation. I'm proud to say that I will now never again take my life as it is for granted, and that I will make sincere attempts to help those who need it in whatever way I can.