My mother
is a self-proclaimed “people watcher.” Whenever we would go shopping together,
I went from store to store, while my mother sat on a bench and watched the
different kinds of people pass. Thus, I blame genetics for the henceforth
creepiness I will profess.
Already,
in two of my classes this semester, I have discussed the changing personalities
of a person, depending on where they are and whom they are with. This blog acts
as my social experiment. Each week, I will sit in the HUB for an hour or so, pretending
to be engaged in work, and listen for snippets of conversation or unusual
activity. No, I won’t be listening to entire conversations. I am not that
creepy and I will make sure privacy is, in fact, left in tact. No, I won’t be
the awkward girl who sits right next to you when there are 50 other available
seats, but I will be the girl who tries to learn something from the loud
conversations, as there is a psychology to everything we do. There is reason,
always to the madness.
Most
recently, I was at Higher Grounds, Starbucks’ counterpart. I ordered and then
joined the mass of others waiting for their order to be called, sleep-deprived
and caffeine addicted. Suddenly a wild woman appeared at our sides. She stood,
stalking the menu. After a minute or two, she turned and asked, “This isn’t the
line, is it?” The girl next to me spoke. “Nope, it’s over there.” She pointed
to the seemingly obvious line that was formed.
When the
woman walked away, she turned to me, and said, “That’s like the fifth person to
do that. I see them walk over and stand here, each time, knowing they aren’t in
the right line.”
My initial
reaction to this was: Rude. Why wouldn’t you help her if you knew she was doing
wrong.
But then I
thought about myself, would I risk drawing attention to myself to help someone
in a pretty mundane task? Would I go out of my way to stir up a situation, when
there is yet to be one?
Psychologist
William James defined attention, in his textbook Principles of Psychology, as “taking possession by the mind, in clear and vivid form, of one out of
what seem several simultaneously possible objects or trains of thought.
Focalization, concentration, of consciousness is of its essence. It implies
withdrawal from some things in order to deal effectively with others.” Thus when we draw
attention to ourselves we become vulnerable.
The girl
in line was a kind person, kind enough to help the woman initially, but not so
quick to take a risk in helping. If she were to tell the woman as soon as she
saw her that she was in the wrong line, she would risk being vulnerable; she
would risk placing her self in a position where focus shifts towards her.
This
vulnerability forces us to side with ourselves, always. We will always “mind
our own business” at all costs, to avoid stepping outside of the confines of
our self.
