What Happened on the Miami Train Thursday

Redacted Version, Longer Version at bottom (Picture I'm the person in 🔵 blue) 1. Thursday morning, packed Miami train—no seats, I’m standing with my bike. 2. A Hispanic man with a scooter kept staring at my face weirdly through the glass for 8 stops—little did he know, I’d help him. 3. He got off after 8 stops but left his entire backpack behind. 4. 35+ Hispanic people on the train—nobody said a word 5. The man sitting right in front of the bag just stared at it 6. I’m Black—and the only one who helped. Only two blacks on that train cart 7. I grabbed the bag, ran to the door, juggling it with my bike. 8. Yelled “Your bag!” then “¡Su bolsa!” as the doors were closing on me. 9. He finally got it—but even if you don’t speak English, if someone waves your bag out the door, take it! 10. Only one Black woman said something: “Sometimes it be like that.” Sad but true.

Miami, do better. HELPING OTHERS IS A KIND THING TO DO.

---------------LONG VERSION-----------

This past Thursday, I was on a packed train—no seats left, so I had to stand while holding up my bike. I ended up next to a Hispanic man with a scooter. Every now and then, he’d glance up at me strangely, but I stayed on my phone, minding my business for about eight stops.

When it was time for him to get off, he grabbed his scooter but left his entire backpack behind. I looked around, expecting someone—especially the Hispanic man sitting right in front of the bag—to speak up. But nothing. Just blank stares. It was like nobody cared.

There were about 35 Hispanic people on that train. Not one of y’all helped your own. I’m not Hispanic—I’m Black—and I was the only one who did anything.

I grabbed his bag, ran to the door with my bike in one hand and his backpack in the other, yelling “Hey! Your bag!” The doors were closing on me, literally on my hand. When I realized he might not speak English, I shouted “¡Su bolsa!” in Spanish.

Thankfully, he turned around and grabbed it. But honestly, even if you don’t speak English—if someone’s waving your bag out the train door, take it! You don’t need a translator for that.

The only person who said anything was a Black woman who looked at me and said, “Sometimes it be like that.”

That moment stuck with me.

What if he’d lost his bag? What if it was something dangerous? What if it had his life in it—papers, money, meds? Nobody else moved. Not even the man right in front of it. Just silence.

I’ve returned lost phones before because I get it—people work hard. Things are expensive. And it’s just not that hard to care.

Come on, Miami. Be better. Help people. It costs nothing to do the right thing.

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