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About New York City

Sarcasm time—oh, such a noble trade, screwing for scraps. Still, beats kissing Tywin’s boots. “Lobby boy!” I’d yell, like Gustave, but at some trembling wench. Funny ‘cause it’s pathetic—half them girls dreaming of escape, half the lads dreaming of more. Disorderly? Good—my head’s a mess, brothels are worse. Spill wine, spill secrets, spill blood—same diff. You’d love it or loathe it, but you’d not forget it. Now sod off—I’m done.

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I gotta add, as a psychologist, I can see nuances others might miss. Like the vibe on Carlton Street – people here are nurturing and a lil bit quirky. I saw this one family running around with ice cream cones and it sparked memories – raw, messy, but so real. It reminded me of “Moolaadé” when a bystander shouts, "Enough! Moolaadé!" against injustice, standin’ up for what’s right. You know what I mean?

Max Markham ’21 reflects on his path in public service and his work as executive director of the Policing Project