Thank god for classes starting up again so that I can pivot my screen time away from people making me lose faith in humanity and towards PDFs of textbooks. The weather is hot and the AC in the library is pumping. Kent State once again brims with life. I tabled at our freshman orientation club fair yesterday—so many little babies, yet over half of the girls seem to be taller than me. (Thanks, genetics.) It really does make my heart swell to be back, though. I am SO pumped.

Aside from classes and Task Force and all my friends and the best burritos in the world, I’m also very excited for the return to basic principles of human interaction. I’ve been people watching a lot online lately. Too much, in fact, and I need to stop. But the emotions and the news are pertinent, and they must be processed. I’ve been seeing a lot of exchanges online lately that are basically negative recommendations. Someone says they don’t care for something for whatever streamlined reason, and someone else agrees with zero visible actual external research on the subject. Asking for recommendations nowadays always has to come with some disclaimer. Disclaimers have become a big part of internet culture in general, and it’s a real shame. Weighing positives and negatives after even just a simple article or two or accepting that a friend likes whatever seems to be a thing of the past, in the digital sphere at least, in favor of following a herd to keep those whom we perceive as our friends or want to be our friends with. Have conspiracy theorists tainted the concept of “doing one’s own research”? Or maybe COVID as a whole wrecked us—we got so used to isolating ourselves from absolutely everyone that it has become second nature to shun anything deemed hypercharged bad buzzword, or alternatively “slime”. It didn’t even take a generation.

You might as well be taking somebody’s world for it, not just their word—one must be in to-tall alignment with the politikal perspektives of their frendos, or else we might have an astrologist’s worst nightmare on a self-worth scale: the planets are out of wack! I’m an idiosyncronous, imperfect ball of flesh on the same planet as many more of the same despite their abject differences from me! Help!

My anxious psyche leads me to distrust humans in general, but I think society has gone too far in its stagnant polarization. We bitch and we fight, to quote crappy post-Roger Waters Pink Floyd (most society as it currently stands is basically “Learning To Fly” on repeat blaring very loud in my ears, I think), and most of the time it’s about how we perceive the influence and morals of actively powerful forces in the world. You can have a great, insightful, constructive conversation about that. But we resort to stereotype and self preservation. And as those gears keep on churning in the background, as they always do and always will, we get nothing done. We forget that we have more in common with one another than we think, while preaching that same concept. But how much do we truly believe the preprogrammed responses we’ve taught ourselves to repeat?

Do we really want a free exchange of ideas, or do we crave that overtone addendum, “but only if they’re the right ones”? Do we even want to be right, or do we always need some abstract, accessible boogeyman to jab at while the powers that be pulling the strings only grow stronger? Do we want to grow stronger ourselves to someday defeat them, or do we succumb to the overwhelming complexity of the world at large and retreat to where we feel safest? Do we seek change, or do we only call for it, not work towards it? We praise the sacrifice of others, but how comfortable would we be with sacrificing ourselves—in any capacity—for the same cause?

Yet when you meet people in person, even these people, they laugh. They actually have senses of humor. They invite, most of the time. And if they repel, they repel. The intention becomes obvious. The experience can be learned from. Another side comes into view, separate from the PR-primed pop star we all fashion ourselves to be, secretly. The blood and guts are there to spill. The humanity is on full display.

And that’s why a damn good conversation beats nameless, faceless, face full of constructed ideological perfection protection any day of the week, regardless of whether or not class is in session.