COLUMN: The tragedy of personal self-absorption

From Ariel Horn's, "Candy from a Stranger," Fall '00 From Ariel Horn's, "Candy from a Stranger," Fall '00What if you were to disappear? What if you went through your everyday schedule but just happened not to bump into any of your friends or acquaintances? How long would it take for you to worry about not having heard or seen one of your friends? If your friends hadn't seen you, how long would it take for people to realize that you were missing?From Ariel Horn's, "Candy from a Stranger," Fall '00What if you were to disappear? What if you went through your everyday schedule but just happened not to bump into any of your friends or acquaintances? How long would it take for you to worry about not having heard or seen one of your friends? If your friends hadn't seen you, how long would it take for people to realize that you were missing? In other words, if gravity were to suddenly fail and you were to fly off the face of the planet, would anyone notice besides the NASA analyst on his donut break who happened to walk by the computer showing him a satellite image of a body clad in a Penn T-shirt floating in space outside of Earth's atmosphere? Worse yet, while enjoying his chocolate-glazed donut, would the NASA guy even care? Amazingly, I have gone days without seeing my roommate who physically shares a room with me; I go to sleep before she comes in, one of us wakes up before the other goes out. Sometimes, the only sign to me that she is still out there and alive is a rumpled shirt on the floor that wasn't there the day before, or the blurred vision through my contact-less eyes late at night of a pile of sheets across the room that look like they could have a person in them. Sadly, it would probably take me a day or two to realize she had disappeared. Because of my own self-absorption, I sometimes forget about the people around me. I'm not the only one. For an extreme case of self-absorption on the part of college students, look at a recent atrocity at Columbia University. This past week, a student was murdered on campus by her boyfriend. In and of itself, the murder is shocking, disturbing and unsettling. But almost more disturbing than the murder itself are the circumstances that surrounded it. On one radio news broadcast, the reporter explained that the victim's roommates were all present in the apartment at the time of the murder. They heard screams but assumed that it was "just a fight" between their roommate and her boyfriend, as they had been known to bicker. Despite the screams coming from the room next door, the roommates went on with their everyday activities -- typing e-mails, talking to one another, doing work. It wasn't until the victim's lacrosse coach called, wondering why she wasn't at practice, that people began to grow suspicious. As the victim was being murdered, her own roommates were in the apartment but didn't react at all. They assumed it was nothing and moved on with their days. Sadly, this self-absorption and lack of attention to reality isn't limited to Columbia's campus. Penn students, and students at many campuses, will ignore just about anything if it interrupts what they're doing or their schedule. Screams and fire alarms alike cause us to roll our eyes in annoyance. Suddenly, the idea of falling off the planet and not being noticed doesn't seem that ridiculous. What if no one responds to your screams? The college experience is not just an academic one -- it's a social one that's meant to teach us about human interactions. How, despite the laws of physics, can you ensure that you won't fall off the planet? More importantly, listen to the pre-emptive warnings around you before it's too late. Take an interest in other peoples' lives. Call them to see how they're doing. Stop. Look. Listen. Talk. Be aware of the people around you no matter how busy you are. Listen to what other people say if only so that you yourself are heard.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.