GUEST COLUMNIST: Simple gestures for the unappreciated

Blake Martin Blake MartinWednesday started out ordinary. Like every other day, I worried about grades, classes, the weekend. Fortunately for me, something happened that shattered the superficial shell I live in. Seeming to grip me by the shoulders, it shook the shame deep inside my heart to the surface. Like every other night, he played party to my picky needs as he gave me a slice of lasagna from the middle instead of the edges, and just like every other night I dismissed him as the Flyman. Turning my back I chuckled as I left to go sit down, for this guy never ceased to make me laugh. Wednesday night was just like any other. In my precious routine, I took for granted one of the things I appreciate most in this world -- the warmth of a friendly person. Flyman exuded this warmth day in and day out, and he is not the only person I come in contact with on a daily basis who possesses similar traits. It's not merely the fact that I took this for granted just once. Rather it's the revelation that I succeed to turn my back on people routinely, as my life and needs seem to override the call to humanity. I decline to become embroiled in others lives simply because I am too busy. I have often wondered about the people I pass everyday. Not the students or faculty here, but the day visitors. The people who call another place home. Who is that guy who swipes my PennCard day after day? What is it like for him to serve me? Who is the young woman in glasses I can always count on to recognize me, the one who smiles and gives a wave as I sweep through the turnstile? I probably observe this woman much closer than most. I admire the fact she is reading and not staring into space. I somehow feel compelled to wrap my arm around her as if to say, you're one of us simply because you long to better yourself. Only again I don't reach out to her. Why is it that simple gestures of humanity seem to be so hard? Just like I turned my back on Flyman, will I neglect the opportunity to reach out to this fellow human? Do I turn around and face her eye to eye, or do I turn a cold shoulder and keep walking because I have a midterm tomorrow? Like Flyman, we must reach out to others. We must act out of compassion. We must listen intently when the call of humanity deep inside our bosom sounds. To shove it away with the rest of the things our heart wistfully yearns for but society repels seems criminal. I have often wondered about the women who work at Stouffer and have asked myself how they can stand to wait on us. How different we must be from their own children, and I can only wonder if those differences are better or worse. With all of our lofty dreams, books and knowledge, we seem to neglect the basic human standard. To cook our food is one thing. More times than not, however; they extend us hospitality, befriending us merely because we take the time to put a little meaning behind our pleases and thank yous. How do we return such gestures, scanty as they may seem some days? With discarded trays and dirty floors. Worst of all, we dismiss them as simple Stouffer employees instead of the fellow humans they are. As one Stouffer employee lay helpless on the ground Wednesday night, I did not even know his real name, much less anything about him. I felt like a callous animal when I realized that I knew nothing. Our duty to humanity should supercede all else. And yet I find myself day in and day out becoming so embroiled in grades and papers and parties, that this duty takes a tarnished second place, or third, or fourth, or? I needed a reality check. Sometimes a sort of check is needed to help us get back into the game of humanity and realize the game of ourselves isn't as pressing as we might think. Now it's time to walk through the Quadrangle office and pay the woman more than shallow respect. And let her know that her simple gestures are appreciated.