For my collection, I ventured out on the T (for many, many hours) and collected oral histories from riders about their oldest memory in life. I set out to create a collection that reflects the diversity of the T–a place where people from all ethnicities, ages, and socioeconomic statuses collide amidst the rattle of the tracks, the seats with ’80s upholstery, and the booming voice of the conductor.

Being an introvert, the longest portion of this process was the time it took to muster the courage to approach people and ask them an intimate detail of their past before even knowing their name. Then, about half of the time I could actually get the words out of my mouth, the answer was, “No.” After several hours of working on the collection, only asking people who sat down next to me, or stood by me on the platform, I broke the set parameters of my collection. In reflecting on my partial archive, I realized that only white, American English speakers had sat/stood next to me and agreed to help me with my project. Since my goal was to capture the diversity of the “T,” I decided that I needed to focus on getting people from a variety of backgrounds with different voices to agree to participate, whether they sat/stood next to me or not. So, through many, many, nos, I finally landed with a group of diverse voices telling their stories. Some groups, such as those whose English isn’t entirely fluent, are absent from audio archive, as I couldn’t seem to convince any of them that their English was, in fact, great.

Another contributor to my goal of a diversified collection can be found in the anonymity of the collection.  Out of the 17 “T” riders who agreed to share their stories, I only learned the names of a few, and the greater story of the rider’s life from even less. I purposely didn’t record names, take photos, or elicit extra information from the subjects because I wanted these stories to be universaliz-able, in a way. I believe hearing a person’s story, however small, can promote empathy, and a feeling of connectedness between strangers, even if they don’t share the experience. Thus, the anonymity of the collection is intended to allow the feeling of connectedness created by stories to go beyond the speaker in the audio clip, and be applied to fellow riders. Essentially, after listening to the collection, you are able to board the T and wonder if the story came from the older woman sitting next to you, etc., causing you (hopefully) to want to hear her voice to see if it’s the same as the storyteller’s, and thus produce a connection through conversation that wouldn’t have otherwise existed. I hope that the collection will, in some small way, remind people that, when we all board the T as if in our own little bubble, we each have stories to be told and can all find connections in some way.

Some of them are funny, some sweet, and some tragic. I hope you enjoy!

OLDEST MEMORIES FROM THE T