Thanksgiving was weird.

Many of us were home, content amidst our families and a constant supply of food and celebration. But the weekend was also marked by tragedy. Last Thursday, we first heard about the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. Then on Black Friday, a temporary employee was trampled to death at a Wal-Mart in Long Island. I'm not in the business of ranking atrocities, so I won't attempt it, but somehow the Wal-Mart incident jarred me in a different way, on a more eerily personal level. And I'd venture that we have a lot to learn from this tragedy as well.

Mumbai's attacks were devastating, but we're familiar with terrorism by this point. But the Wal-Mart incident? That we could not have foreseen. That single, isolated death took me aback and left me rather speechless. No political explanations, no proposed tactical military initiatives, just befuddlement and lots of sympathy. Why? Because it could have been us at that Wal-Mart. We have been those Wal-Mart customers, swiping the last cart even when we see someone reach for it, practically shoving another guy to reach the checkout line first. Whether in life or in the movies, we've all witnessed that classic quarrel between two shoppers, in which the most brutal tendencies of human beings emerge: "No, I saw that first! It's mine!"

But this human inclination toward self-preservation extends beyond the retail world, and permeates our daily lives. And what better environment in which to discuss self-preservation than college? We're here for ourselves. We merit acceptance because of our accomplishments and we cultivate the experience that will most benefit ourselves now and in the future. Choosing courses is replete with self-interest. Advance registration is a virtual retail brawl, an opportunity for us to shove one another out of classes over the internet in order to create for ourselves the ideal schedule.

Once we enroll in these perfect classes, we seek the perfect study area. We have plenty of rooms and buildings from which to choose. And yet we scramble. We dart for the nearest outlets, the best couches, the convenient library computers. Even if we don't specifically intend to act inconsiderately, the very essence of what we are doing - ensuring that we succeed in our courses and ultimately in life - is really only considerate of ourselves.

College senior Zachary Yates points out that we need to create social environments that are a microcosm for a less frantic existence: "It's important to surround yourself with a group of people that you can relate to and relax with and to not always be caught up in the rat race that is life," he told me. He highlights Wharton as a specific zone of such stress.

I'm not a Wharton student so this assessment is far from factual, but I'd guess that the pattern is particularly obtrusive among Wharton students. Many are pursuing careers in cutthroat businesses and their courses here at Penn are particularly challenging and usually curved. Fortunately, I have a spy: a SAS friend who frequents the Huntsman study lounges and returns with valuable information on the Wharton culture. She said many students purposely leave their belongings on desks and chairs for hours just so that no one can usurp their sacred spots and (God forbid) use the space to do their own work.

But we all do things like this. We aren't naturally considerate - just think of the sign at the gym that limits our exercise to 20 minutes if people are waiting. Would we let someone else have a turn, if not for the sign? Heaven forbid we should forfeit precious calorie-burning time to some stranger. Like it or not, we are the center of our own existences.

We do try to be considerate and compassionate people either because of our moral consciences or religious doctrines. But we're not always cognizant of this necessity, and we're not always aware of our capabilities for damage. That's the scary part about the Wal-Mart incident: the nagging truth we all should consider. Those Long Island customers didn't drive to Wal-Mart to commit murder; they went there to buy things, to be good American consumers and to secure the best deals, completely unaware of the damage that they could cause. Like I said, it could have been us.

Dani Wexler is a College sophomore from Los Angeles. Her email is wexler@dailypennsylvanian.com. Wexing Poetic appears every Friday.