We are a grand collection of strangers, and yet we wonder where the humanity has gone.
I was born and raised in the South, an area of the United States that has now come to be as well known for its prevailing hospitality and charm, as it once was known for prejudice and pain. If this area can, at least on the surface, embrace a sort of innate camaraderie for the fellow man, why does it seem so hard elsewhere. I am new to the DC area, but quickly learning that people here do not speak. While there are flashes of the Southern "Hello"s and "Good morning"s that I've grown accustomed to, they are few and far between. Most people move to the beat of anonymity, as if it were the very tune blasting from the headphones crammed into most peoples ears. Ears that refuse to listen. Maybe because they've grown accustomed to most people never saying anything.
It just strikes me as odd, that as I sit here typing this, at a patio table, in a very public place, very few of the 50 or so people who have passed me have offered up more than a curious passing glance. Eye contact leads to either an awkward smile or that ill-tempered look just short of annoyance. And issuing a "Good morning" usually gets a muffled one in return, if you're lucky. Usually, it is ignored.
Maybe I'm just an idealist. But I remember people being a bit more friendly. I remember a time when, not so long ago, people were at least willing to communicate.
Most days, unless my mood is overly effected by some life issue that I find it too difficult to ignore, I try to at least speak to one stranger. Engage them in a conversation that may or may not brighten both our days, but definitely can't hurt. Why? Because I don't ever want to lose the humanity in me. And often, it's these conversations with strangers that reminds me just how connected we all really are.
Don't become just another person lost in the collection. Ask the next person you see how their day is going. You might be surprised what you discover.
Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
