Nathan Vass dedicates his new book to “my friends on the street … you who are feared, hated, ignored, harassed and underestimated.”
“Show this book,” he continues, “to the ones who think you have no name.”
Vass has a unique perspective on street people and the lives they live: he has been a Metro Bus driver in the Seattle area for 20 years, typically driving the night shift on “high incident routes” in the gritty neighborhoods of South Seattle, downtown and along Aurora Avenue North.
A Korean American who grew up in South Central Los Angeles, Vass is also an accomplished artist, filmmaker, photographer and writer. His first book, The Lines That Make Us was a bestseller in Seattle and a non-fiction finalist for the 2019 Washington State Book Award.
In Deciding to See, Vass writes in micro chapters, vignettes that are two to three pages in length, mostly about his experiences while driving a bus. The essays are dated but not in chronological order and are organized more thematically, or as he notes, cinematically, shot by shot. They often end with the author’s meditative interpretation of the significance or takeaway of the story he has told, much as a pastor would build towards his homily.
Vass’ gift for connecting with others is part innate personality and part audacious intention: he chooses to treat people – all people — with kindness and respect, as if they are his good friends. It often works wonders: his banter and sparkly charm are disarming and help reach people beyond the superficial. He is a good listener and his passengers tell him their real-life stories of heartbreak (the death of a teenaged daughter for instance), drug addiction, poverty, racism or illness. He learns that Richard, a homeless passenger, had a previous career as a welder and is surprisingly knowledgeable about documentary filmmaking.
He describes his adopted city as an outsider (a Californian) and as a consummate insider (bus driver). The Seattle Freeze? Not on Nathan’s bus! He nimbly inverts that stereotype of the Emerald City to reveal the humanity of life on the street. He has a knack for recalling verbatim dialog – he cops to scribbling notes at red lights — which adds to the authenticity of the conversations; he captures the singular voices, vernacular and personalities of his interlocutors. In one amusing exchange, a regular rider, Hau Ling, shouts questions and answers (“HEY, DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?”), which Vass finds endearing.
Of course his job is not all sunshine and rainbows. Driving these routes in tough neighborhoods at nights can be challenging to the core. As a bus driver, he reports facing verbal abuse, threatening behavior, and occasional physical violence.
One thread that weaves through the book, appearing in a number of chapters, is his descriptions of being in Paris during the terrorist attacks of November 2015 that killed 130 people and injured hundreds more. Vass was listed as missing and presumed dead for three days in the aftermath of the violence. Though his experience was grave and life altering, he does not dwell upon it here, giving it prominence at certain points in the narrative to reach a deeper understanding of suffering and loss.
In the aftermath of the Paris attacks, he writes, “I find myself settling deeper into an almost unhinged thankfulness. Everything is cause for celebration. The paralysis of grief and its accompanying confusion sometimes gives way to the realization that we are deeply fortunate, that we must recognize this, and we must pass on this burgeoning well-being to those around us.”
Vass’ intense positivity does not seem entirely believable at first – his enthusiasm feels almost super-human – expressed in his writing through the liberal use of exclamation points – but it soon becomes apparent, even to the skeptical book critic, that his buoyancy is no façade. The effect is infectious and take on a spiritual quality.
At the heart of the matter lie simple truths. Vass expresses wonder at the complexities and the precious beauty of a single life. He writes, “The longer I’m alive, the more I realize the degree to which a person’s character and appearance today is but a surface ripple over the iceberg of their past. There is always more to a person, and they were never quite how they appear now.”
So take a ride on Vass’ bus through Deciding to See. It is sometimes uncomfortable for the pain and suffering he recounts but is nonetheless heartfelt and uplifting. Vass is an artist who makes an eloquent case for the power of kindness, understanding and human connection.
David Takami is the author of “Divided Destiny: A History of Japanese Americans in Seattle, and dozens of book reviews published mostly in the Seattle Times.
David Takami is the author of Divided Destiny: A History of Japanese Americans in Seattle, numerous essays and online content about Asian American history, and dozens of book reviews published mostly in The Seattle Times. He grew up in Cold Spring Harbor, NY and has lived in Honolulu, Tokyo and Seattle. He now lives in Kenmore, Washington.
