My search for resilience begins here

There’s a special kind of rage that comes with a New York City heat wave. I felt its crackling electric shocks against the back of my neck as I stopped at the subway turnstile. A much taller woman stared me down on the other side, pushing her way through even though I’d just run my card through the reader. The hostile confrontation lasted seconds, but a ball of fury pulsed in my chest long after, as I stomped my 25-minute route through the garment district towards Penn Station.