I noticed something today that I think is quite interesting to say the least. My observations of people here on the BYU campus have changed dramatically without my noticing. Its almost as if I've been away on holiday or something and only today returned to find things not the way I left them!
After a particularly good church history lesson, I left the Joseph Smith building and started the trek across campus to my Arabic class. As I walked I seemed to be surrounded by strangers...which, is absolutely normal. But today was different because of how I felt being surrounded by them. On a typical day for me on campus surrounded by strangers, all of the gentlemen seem to have spent more time on their hair than my sisters did in high school. Its usually all I can do to keep myself from pushing them to the ground just to see their reaction at getting dirt on their perfectly placed rustic-authentic-vintage-retro-prewarn (by machine or third world child only, not by actual physical labor by the owner) jeans. Normally the girls all over campus are covered from top to bottom in credit card-sized cell phones, hair extensions, layers of make-up, gargantuan sunglasses with matching hoop earrings, or furry moon boots all in an attempt to look as if they were some sort of unreachable object not in any way human at all. But today things were different. It all began when I was passed on the sidewalk by a new-made-to-look-old cruiser bike ridden by a young man who had clearly spent more time assembling his outfit than I have on homework this entire semester. After he passed, I walked into a different world. The crowd I was surrounded by wasn't the normal herd of brown and orange guys or bridezillas-to-be, they were--for lack of a more unrighteously judgmental term--math majors. Thats right, they were me in junior high school. Awkward and lanky, trying desperately to look cool, but beginning to find confidence in who they are. They are the "Sword and Quill" club occasionally seen prancing about a tent on the quad dressed in medieval attire. They are the pale of skin, the parted of hair, the unsure of step. Their paleness comes not from a cute natural genetic combination (like Eirene's), their's is the result of endless hours in a dark room lit only by a computer screen. They are products of Zelda and 9th grade orchestra. And here's the kicker, I felt perfectly comfortable in their presence. Unlike the discontent and constant mistrust felt during countless days of being surrounded by the vain "danglies" of BYU, I felt as if I didn't have to act or impress these calculus-loving Harry Potter readers. Even in my dirty old work clothes I could walk among them without thinking twice about all of the eyes glancing at my bibs. I could breath easily, walk confidently, if not proudly to my class.
I know what anyone who reads this must be thinking...he's one of them! That would only make sense, right? If I feel so comfortable, than I am obviously among mine own. Well, here is why I think that is wrong. Firstly, just as I want to throw mud on an American Eagle model, I want to hand a shovel to one of the computer science wizards. I would like to distribute calluses equally among both group's creepily soft hands. Secondly, I would effectively kill a conversation about both dungeons and dragons and lacrosse in a matter of seconds. Also, I am every bit as inept at math as I am at being mindful of how presentable I look. I think the real reason I felt comfortable today lies beyond the exterior judgments and stereotypes I've laid out. It has to do with the motivations I felt from these diverse people by the way they presented themselves. From one group I felt an air of downright wicked pride. An attitude of "you don't have and can't have what I have." Not that I am not guilty of putting out that same vibe, because I'm sure I have done or do at times. However, the other groups "vibe" was more of a "yes, I acknowledge you are wearing dirty bibs, but I realize I'm not exactly the prom king either" thing. It was almost as if even though they didn't know how to accept me, they were willing to just because they know through experience what it is like to not be accepted. Further still, they've quit trying to be accepted by others, and focus now on things and people that bring them joy. That felt good.
Again, I've just admitted to unrighteously judging pretty much everyone around me. But that only goes to show, we're all trying to figure this thing out together, and none of us are perfect.
Ben
