In light of recent events, I thought it prudent to take a moment to pause and discuss a topic that should be evaluated now and again: self-awareness. Think about this simple idea: how your actions affect those around you.
The week before fall break, Augustana saw a massive surge in students who were experiencing flu-like illnesses. Because of the absence of vaccines, the status quo dictated that students treat the symptoms and, in a sense, grin and bear through the worst.
For some odd reason, instead of quarantining (as the health advisory suggested) his or herself, there were multiple accounts of students walking freely about campus, giving the gift that keeps on giving: H1N1.
The zombie-virus-esque epidemic had parents, professors and some students worried. Others went about life as normal without giving a second look to the free hand sanitizer distributed in the buildings between Summit and Grange Avenues.
On the same token, cover your mouth when coughing. Common sense is soon becoming a ghost-like commodity.
Another social gem that took place in the not-so-distant past was when a marked campus vehicle ran over a bicycle while a rider was still...well, riding the thing. If I'm not mistaken, the blind spot in a vehicle is behind the driver—not to the immediate right out a passenger window. Maybe Miley blaring through the sound system had a hand in distracting the driver, but seriously? Pedestrians are people, too.
A less dangerous pet peeve is table manners. For the most part, people have done pretty well at Augustana, but when one person does his or her best impression of overly obese high-nye (swine flu pun!), that sets the tally back to zero in my book.
I lose my appetite. It could be Giselle sitting across from me, and all I would think is, "close your freaking mouth."
Somewhere between the free mastication show and running-over a middle-aged bicyclist is the one person in the room who demands an insane amount of attention, and not in the cute, toddler way. This person will cheer, alone, loudly during a sporting event, be the one person at a party barely getting through a detuned version of Tom Petty's "Free-thank-you-Damon-Dotson-for-ruining-a-classic-Falling," or constantly remind a group of his or her accomplishments. This is when I have my Dexter moments.
I myself am not immune to social blunders. Take the summer of 2009. Sitting in summer school of my hometown, I was trying my hardest to remember a line structure of Benzoate. Thinking I was not surrounded by classmates during a test, I oh-so-smartly drop a "f*** me, right?" after erasing the drawing for a third time. A 15-minute break, a strawberry-red face and a granola bar later, I was back to the usual zoning-out.
Now to the moral of the story—unless the reader is the kind of person to use Benjamin Franklins as origami, take a look around and try to make Augustana a great place to be a Viking.
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