But still, in the South, eye contact and smiling goes beyond my tiny hometown. I remember hot summer days of strolling through the French Quarter, just far enough from the familiarity of my small town, with a quiet sense of home and peace running through me. My inner contentedness could not help but show outwardly. I won’t lie and say everyone always looked and smiled back. But an overwhelming number always did. And it was comforting, a sort of affirmation of both self and community. Even though I didn’t know most of the people I looked and smiled at, there was an intangible connection between us.
I just cannot find that here.
Do not get me wrong, all my friends, and even my slightly-closer-than-acquaintances-but-not-quite-friends look, smile and say hi. But if I do not know a person I am passing, I have discovered that I cannot expect to be acknowledged. Early in the year, when I was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I would beep-bop down walkways and look and smile at everyone I passed. For every person who determinedly stared straight ahead as if on some dire mission, for each glance that coolly brushed over me and looked away, my looks and smiles became more and more hesitant.
Conditioned to this, I now only slightly smile and look, just to be sure of myself. Oh, what’s that? You’re not going to return my sunny smile? That’s fine, really. I was actually looking at that lovely dogwood to the right of you. It’s crazy how quickly they bloomed once spring arrived, isn’t it?
And so, I am left wondering about the discrepancies between here and home. It could simply be a regional difference; it is generally agreed upon that the South is a warmer place. It could be that a large number of Princetonians enjoy staring at the ground or are simply waiting for the safety of four walls and familiar faces. But I think it’s more. I think perhaps it’s that many people here are so focused on where they are academically and socially and thinking of the next steps they need to take, that they strut and consume the pavement (or hurriedly run) too quickly to realize what is actually in front of them — other people.
I can’t help but feel a little sad that here, at my home away from home, where I sometimes expect to feel an even more substantial connection to those around me than I do in a large city like New Orleans, I feel more disconnected than ever. This feeling slowly creeps in and solidifies without ever truly noticing it. And it doesn’t take very long. A week ago I was at one of my organizations’ meet-and-greets with prefrosh. In a casual Q&A, one guy asked, “Why is it so quiet? I mean, it’s pretty quiet at night and that’s expected, but even just walking around the daytime, it can get almost too quiet.” Though I, along with the other students there, went on to talk about the “nightlife” at Princeton and how people are always getting together, I found that I was dissatisfied with my response. Is going out at nights the only time when broad communication and togetherness is apparent?
I remember adding in at the end, “On an average late night, I agree, it can get pretty quiet. Almost eerily so, like you’re the only one here. But I know that now, whenever I feel like that, I simply look up at all the lit rooms and the silence turns into quiet yet profound solidarity. Yep.”
I miss eye contact. I miss passing smiles. But for now, looking up at the lights will have to suffice.
Lea Trusty is a freshman from Saint Rose, La. She can be reached at ltrusty@princeton.edu.
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