SLC Bubble Popped

One Student Encounters the Real World

by Aja Monet

Tuesday February 7, 2006

This past weekend I had a rather odd encounter: a student and I were hanging out at a house in Andrews Court, and when we walked outside we stumbled upon a late 20’s-looking male who had fallen in the dirt. He was drunk and had a bandage around his left leg to cover up what he called ulcers. Trying to help him, I asked how he had gotten to where he was and where was home.

We asked him, "What’s your story, man?" He replied, "Why you wanna know my story? What it matters to you?"

I could smell the liquor on his breath. I told him, "Maybe ‘cause I’m human—something called humanity. ‘Cause maybe I care ‘bout gettin’ ya home tonight." He then said, almost condescendingly, "Human is shit. I graduated from this school and look where it gets you, on the floor. No such thing as humanity."

I stood there while people kept coming outside to see what all the fuss was about, some giggling under their breath, others just plain curious. After all, it was a homeless man lying in front of their dorm; God forbid he’d interrupt a game of beer pong. Another student came outside, genuinely concerned, trying to settle the confusion as I continued asking, "Where is home for you, man?"

"Uh…somewhere over there," he pointed to his right, towards Kimball.

"Where over there?"

"Midland. Kimball and Midland."

The other student asked if he lived with anyone. He said that he lived with his mother. The sad thing is he most likely had no home, and if he did, home must not have been much because he was wandering the streets at 1 a.m. in a thin, long-sleeve black shirt, shorts and flip-flops in 40 degree weather.

But why did I care?

I think it was because of the unexpectedness of the circumstance. Here we are playing beer pong, chatting, laughing and listening to music, enjoying what’s said to be the best years of our lives, and here was this random, homeless white guy, lying in the dirt.

I couldn’t help but notice how we distance ourselves from unnatural situations—from individuals unlike ourselves. Maybe this was just another "Aja trying to save the world" observation, but it was bigger than that.

To make a long story short, security came and offered to walk him home. He refused the offer and simply walked across Andrews parking lot toward Kimball, he was gone from our night, from the safety of our campus. Our "bubble." The situation reminded me strangely of Pontius Pilate washing his hands symbolically of Christ’s blood, a definite stretch, but lately I can’t help relating things to Biblical stories.

That was the night. We went back to the game of beer pong and then onto another gathering where I conversed with other students about the awkwardness of Sarah Lawrence parties, or lack thereof.

What did this night mean in the broader spectrum of experience? I think it definitely revealed human apathy and the desire to remove ourselves from uncomfortable situations, whether consciously or not. It could have very well been that this guy was just some random drunk who didn’t graduate from our school, but it’s the thoughts he provoked in me that mattered.
People enter and leave our lives for reasons. How often do we think of the power we have to change another’s life for the few seconds in which they enter it?

I think we give ourselves less credit as influential beings than we deserve. "Human is shit." That’s what he said. I think it bothered me to think that for him, for many, this was true. What’s so great about being human anyway? Have we forgotten? I thought that our compassion was what made us different from other species.

This is what makes me so eager to meet new people everyday and passionate about life and the lives of all people: rich or poor, black or white. The sad thing is that we don’t realize the privilege it is to be able to include or exclude outsiders from our experiences.

The fact that I saw a homeless man was not what was important. What’s important is that this man entered our environment and forced me to notice how Sarah Lawrence students distance themselves from the "real world," and more importantly, the different—and slightly negative—reactions and judgments passed on those who wished to help this man before labeling him as nothing more than a trespasser.

No one should be denied human compassion, nor the ears of someone who really wants to listen.