The contents of my bag were splayed out on the gray pavement, but even their bright colors didn’t stop the swarm of students around me from stepping on them. My Van Gogh’s ear key chain squished underneath a black tennis shoe, my bamboo paper journal with a shoe sole imprinted on the front, the few hot curlers I had just taken out of my hair kicked to the side of the hallway.
The pieces of my life were on display for everyone to see and I guess for everyone to step on. I kneeled on the cold tile, scrambling to find my most personal things: keys, phone, wallet, a pack of stamps for my snail mail to my grandma, and no one looked. No one even spared a glance or made an attempt to help out this poor girl obviously in need of help.
Thanks.
But I’m okay with it. I’ve moved on. It’s not as if I think about the 30 minutes I spent on my hands and knees picking up every little thing I’d accumulated in my bag over a year, everyday. Of course not. Well actually I don’t think about this moment specifically everyday, but it’s the same concept.
When I rode the smelly local buses downtown during the summer no one ever got up to give me a seat, no matter how many books and papers I was carrying. No one ever picks up the silverware I dropped on the floor, or even tells me I actually dropped it; leaving me to look around wildly for my fork that has seemingly gone missing in the middle of a fancy restaurant. And it would knock my socks off if someone actually reported missing items to the lost and found, instead of leaving them where they found them, or most likely, just taking them for themselves.
Now I’m not cynical. I just have come to the conclusion that many people are isolated today, ensconced in their little worlds of smart phones, laptops, Bluetooth earpieces and self-important thoughts. It’s rare someone takes the time to look at what’s happening around them, unless of course there was a remote chance you might get on a reality television show by actually looking up. And I know that I probably do this exact thing when I’m trying to fight the crowds in the hallways just to get to my fourth period, but I’m starting to recognize the error of my ways.
I don’t know if the good ol’ days were really all that fantastic and if everybody said hi to each other on the street and helped out strangers on the sidewalk. But it’s a nice thing to imagine. And if I could make my own fantasy world, that would be one of the foremost laws. Just be nice to each other. Help each other out. Flash a smile to at least one stranger a day. It’ll make you feel better, and it might just make someone else’s day.
These moments of introspection on human behavior have been fostered by my English IV AP class (Hey Mrs. Mabry’s 1st period) of course, but also by the most unexpected things. My fortune cookie from my family’s last Chinese Food Friday had the poetic snippet: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting their own battle too.” And those Liberty Mutual commercials with the random acts of kindness being passed around? I wish that could be real life. Or I wish I could see it in action. Because no matter how many touching commercials an insurance company makes about how nice people really are, it’s not an accurate representation of reality. Or least not the reality I live every day.
So I guess through all this ranting I’m trying to say that we should make an effort to just be nicer. Be more involved in the wonderful world around us. Pay more attention to the swarm of kids on Main Street and try to recognize a kindred spirit. Smile more. Be considerate. Don’t block people who are actually trying to walk. Shocking, I know. There’s no way we can make a perfect world of kindness and happiness, but we can at least make an effort to do something right here, right now.
And always remember my fortune cookie, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting their own battle too.” Or in my case, fighting the mobs of people trying to step all over my possessions.
