I was incredibly cranky yesterday.
We’ve all had those days. Someone cuts in front of you in line, and suddenly you’re plotting ways to cause them bodily harm. The bus sees you. Slows down. Passes you by. As you leave to turn in the 13-page paper you spent the last 48 hours writing, you realize you left it on your kitchen counter. You have a stain on your shirt.
Those days suck.
As a result, you trudge through the day with a vendetta against the rest of the population. OK, maybe that’s a tad dramatic — you’re in a really, really bad mood. As you climb on, the driver on the next bus who turns to smile at you is greeted by a murderous scowl. The 15 people you bump into on your way up Bascom raise an eyebrow, preparing for a hurried but sincere “Sorry!” Instead, you give them the finger.
OK, admittedly I haven’t given anyone the finger (though I’ve wanted to a few times). But when did we become a bunch of cranky, insincere grouches?
It’s hard to connect with the world around us when we can’t spare a second to smile in between exams, homework, jobs and deadlines. It’s easy to forget to say hello when we’re contemplating the merits of the “Sociological Imagination” while trying to fit a few more miles in on less and less frequent running circuits. We are overstressed, overworked college students.
Even on my better days, I realize I tend to go into robot mode. Wake up, shower, go to class, return home, homework, sleep, repeat. Unless it’s the weekend or a rare day with a study date, I can go an entire day with little human contact other than my roommate. So I decided to give myself a day — one day where no matter how awkward I look or uncomfortable I make you, I’m going to make damn sure I’m nice to you — even if I am still grouchy.
My first order of business was, of course, the bus driver. I couldn’t say I’m ever really a jerk to him, but more often than not my foul mood or overloaded mind gets in the way of being outwardly nice. I park myself in the front of the bus and strike up a conversation with him. When it’s time to get off, he tells me that I made his day. He probably has some pretty miserable moments carting huffy students around all day, so this was an exciting feat. Score one for congeniality.
Next up: my fellow students. This wasn’t quite as simple as a conversation with the bus driver, so I had to throw in a little variety. Practicing my excellent stealth skills, I craftily paid for the muffin and coffee of the guy behind me at the library. On my trip up Bascom, which is usually muted by headphones, I stopped a few people and complimented them on their shoes, shirts and smiles. After a lecture, I nervously tapped a classmate on the shoulder and told him that I really enjoyed his comments in class. Instead of the weirded-out laugh I expected, he gave me a pleasantly surprised “Thank you.”
As the end of my day approached, I took on a bigger challenge: Brother Jed. For those that don’t know him, he is the overzealous Evangelist who never hesitates to remind us all that we’re damned to hell. Yeah, I can’t stand that guy either.
Walking down the steps of Humanities, I plopped down next to a few other observers and listened to what Jed had to say. After he regaled us with stories of his debaucherous college days, the crowd started to thin out. When things quieted down a bit, I turned to Jed and told him that, though I strongly disagree with his points of view, I respect the fact that he cares enough about his beliefs to travel around the country preaching them.
He thanked me for my input, and made sure that I had the address to his website. That wasn’t so bad.
Now I’m sure Brother Jed doesn’t need a pick-me-up as much as, say, a stressed-out bus driver. But I would bet that he has days, just like the rest of us, where he just wants to go home and mope on the couch. I’m not sure if he even heard what I said, much less understood it, but I would hope that it made a positive impression — if even a tiny one — on his day.
Maybe it was liberating running around campus saying goofy things, knowing that I had the excuse of some unorthodox research on an article to fall back upon. But it was even more liberating to realize that people actually like it when you’re nice for no reason at all, and though they might give you a funny look, they’ll turn around and smile when you’re not looking.
This might seem a tad obvious, but we all need a little nudge sometimes to remember that the rest of the world is still there, and that we should — at least occasionally — want to be nice to one another. The sky is still blue, and the sun, hopefully, is still out. I’ll probably still have those days from time to time, but next time I’ll remember my experimental day of kindness and smile at the dude giving me the finger on Bascom.
Laura Brennan ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in communicative disorders.
