Ithaca College

I listen to my ipod all the time and don't talk to people and IT RULES! I'd rather listen to music than make mindless chatter about the weather and give people phony smiles. I think I'm going to make a website about the best ways to avoid human contact and simply listen to music and text message the other people who like to avoid human contact. It's going to be almost as awesome as listening to your ipod and not talking to anyone.

That's a sad comment buddy. The first time these kids opened the door for me I admit it was a little awkward and I didn't exactly know why they were there, but at least they're trying something different instead of just living in the bubble that you seem to enjoy so much. I'm sorry you're opposed to real, actual human interaction.

I used to live and work at a small women's college up the lake. People always smiled and greeted everyone else, strangers as well as friends. People would stop by my house and talk to me about my gardens and chalk drawings. People would make friendly eye contact, nod or wave or say hello on campus. It was a part of the culture -- a very friendly, warm, welcoming open culture.

The people here at IC are not UNfriendly, but it's not like it was in Aurora (before the recent tensions and changes). Here people are more caught up in their own stuff so much and not noticing other people.

I am an inveterate user of online communication, so I understand the appeal of that form of communication as well. (Though I personally do not have either a cell phone or an iPod). I value both and consider my world richer for being "multicultural" -- I can live in the Real World (tm) and the virtual world and gain much from each. To cut yourself off from either is a loss for you -- and for others.

But I do have to say -- there is something unhealthy and isolating about retreating into a world where you avoid ever making real life contact, where people walk around having private conversations in public spaces where everyone can overhear and be made to feel uncomfortable, or where the guy next to you a few feet is off in some other space pumped into his ears as if you weren't even there. It's sort of rude as well as sad.

Our modern culture has made people alienated interchangeably replacable cogs in the big machine as it is. If you want to embrace that sickness, it's your business, but give me a world where people are openly friendly and kind -- in both the Real World and the Virtual World.

When I first got to Ithaca, I was surprised at how nice people were. If
anything, it took me a while to get used to it. Maybe Ithaca students the
past three years have become less social, but I find Ithaca to be a
friendly place for the most part. Students aren't afraid to ask other
students for directions, or any other general questions, and as a
freshman, I felt that I was welcome and any concerns and questions I
had, I could get help with

Just today I (or my 2-year-old daughter, actually) experienced a wonderful random act of kindness:


My 2-year-old daughter and I often get smiles from
strangers as we walk through town, with Clara riding in her
backpack, singing and swinging her feet. It was a great
feeling that Clara was so happy: just three days ago
she woke up from her nap with a fever of 106 degrees, and
spent a traumatic evening in the emergency room. Any parent
or child is frightened by such an experience, so I felt
extra grateful for my sunny little girl on our walk today.

Today, Clara and I were walking home from a local grocery
store, which wisely gives out free balloons to children.
Clara always looks forward to getting a balloon on our trips
to this store. She had done an especially nice job being
patient at the store, after waiting a long time for a
prescription.

She was thrilled when the selection included pink
balloons. Pink looms large in her philosophy, especially
these days, since the antibiotic she is taking for the
infection that caused the high fever is bubble-gum pink.

Clara was singing "Mister Golden Sun" to her balloon, as we walked
under a tree, and -- POP! There went the balloon.

Needless to say, Clara immediately burst into tears. "My
pink balloon popped!" She has had many balloons before, but
is always very careful with them. This was the first time
she ever experienced this minor trauma of childhood, and she
was inconsolable.

A college-aged young man who was walking behind us noticed
Clara's tears. He was clearly preparing for an important
date, as he was carrying a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed
roses. The young man stopped and talked to Clara.
"Your balloon popped; that's very sad."

"What's your name?" Unfortunately, Clara was too shy and upset to answer, but I
filled in for her, touched that a young guy who was probably
hurrying home to get ready for a date would stop to comfort
a little kid.

"Clara is a pretty name," said the young man. "Would you
like a flower? It's pink, just like your balloon."

Clara was still crying inconsolably, unable to say that she
would really like the rose. The young man said, jokingly,
"uh-oh, I'm in trouble if girls don't like these!" He
tucked a pink rose into Clara's backpack, and went on his way.

Shortly after the young man was out of earshot, Clara said
"Thank you for my rose," very quietly. She carried the rose
in her hand the rest of the way home, finally waving at the
young man, who was much too far away to see. A block later,
we were almost home, and Clara was singing to her flower.

Somewhere in Ithaca, a lucky young lady is receiving a
bouquet of eleven roses. I hope she asks why there is one
missing!

That story was very touching.

I find the people here to be nice most of the time, but there is always the occasional person who isn't.