So my 10:30 class was canceled today. Instead of sleeping in, I decided to watch those less fortunate souls meander their way to class as I just sat on the grass in the Jepson quad. Part of the reason I chose this spot is because it is a prominent social hub on campus, and I love to people watch. Ask any of my suite mates and you’ll know that I’m an anthropocentric kinda guy. Today I was observing the wild Richmond Student in their natural habitat on their way to class. Things played out more or less as I had expected.
At 10:15 there were a few early birds that trickled into class early, then between 10:20 and 10:30 students surged into Jepson and Ryland, and after that a few stragglers stumbled their way through the wooden doors. It was surprisingly obvious to see who had just woken up. Furthermore it was even more surprising to see who was worried about being late for class and who wasn’t.
People are rarely conscious of the kind of vibe they give off with their body language, but it’s readily noticeable to those observing them. Some students were frantically speed walking to class, all disheveled. Others California-walked into class, savoring the last few bites of their breakfast sandwich from Tyler’s. I could even tell who was having a good or bad day based on the way they carried themselves. You can observe some pretty cool things when you open your eyes and see the world.
Which brings me to the number one thing that bothered me about this 10:30 rush on Jepson quad: people were not looking around. I’d say that the vast, vast majority of students were looking at the ground, eyes fixated on the bricks they walked on, as if they might suddenly disappear or prop up and try and trip them. Most of the remainder had their eyes fixated on their destination and B-lined it to the door. Did they even notice me sitting on the grass? I have my doubts, eye contact was rarely made. Maybe I’m insignificant in comparison to their day’s plans, or maybe these students felt embarrassed for me and didn’t want to acknowledge the awkward dude sitting there twiddling his thumbs.
Or maybe they were just oblivious to the world around them.
And if this is the case, I think that’s kind of sad. Right? I mean this was a beautiful day. The sun was up, the air was fine, flowers were blooming, even some birds were chirping. But seriously, when have the birds ever stopped chirping over the past few weeks. It is the grand simplicity of it all which went thoroughly unnoticed by these dedicated students.
This connects back to the idea of place, and how well we know ours. Which turns out isn’t very much. A large amount of city residents don’t know about which watershed their in or where their water will eventually dump, which all seems kind of obvious to me after having spent some time in this class, but it’s true, if you aren’t looking for it you won’t see it. Well, that’s not entirely true but you get the idea.
There was an article that centered on some world-class violinist that went ignored by the masses in a New York subway as the populous commuted to work. I experienced some of that today in Richmond watching students to go class.
How much do we miss when we’re not looking? I’d gander more than we’re willing to admit.
So pick your heads up, Sheeple! It’s a beautiful day, it’s a beautiful life, and I’m feeling swell.