Stewart: Don't judge this
Everyone fits an epitome, while at the same time, no one does
It's easy to categorize people based on cliques—jocks, brains, musicians—but in doing so, you can miss what makes people individuals.
Ross Stewart
Thursday, October 4th, 2007
A few days ago while I was drinking a beer in the shower I realized something: this town is where the epitomes live.
Now, a few people have asked me, “Ross, what do you do with the beer when you’re washing your hair?” The ideal place to put the tasty brew is somewhere above the showerhead, say the frame of the door to the shower, but it is a delicate balancing act. If in a bind, one can use the side of the tub nearest the shower head to prevent getting soapy suds in the tasty suds.
I really do recommend drinking a beer in the shower, it’s probably the most refreshing experience I’ve ever had.
But back to what I was saying. This town is where the epitomes live. It’s a lot like Las Vegas, you know. “Everything that can be done can be overdone.” But in the case of Lawrence it’s people instead of buildings and buffets. The abundance of epitomes here is astounding.
Before transferring here this year I thought of myself as pretty worldly, a cultured man who had traveled and seen many things. I thought I had seen tight jeans; this was not so. I thought I had met a man with “short man syndrome;” this was not so. I thought I had seen a hippie; this was not so. The list goes on: sorority girls, ballers, amazing professors, artists, stoners, geniuses, banana eaters, racists, writers, players, emos, bay kids, bad professors, fornicators, protein shake drinkers—I once thought that I had met the people who represented these types before (their ambassadors if you will), but in Lawrence I’ve met people who completely embody the persona of these characters.
The male chain-smoking English major who wears 80’s sunglasses and my sister’s jeans, and somehow found a pair of L.A. Gears from the 90’s in a men’s size (the shoes that have blinking lights on them); he completely fits a typecast, though I’m not too sure what it’s called as of yet. I suspect it’s something along the lines of hipster. But, there’s something else.
I began to look at people like this, with this epitome filter on and I began losing my humanity. No longer was I looking for an individual’s personality, rather I just summed them up after a quick glance or a few words.
Like this conversation:
Girl: “Ugh, college is hard, we’ve got this book to read but I’d rather watch the movie.”
Me: “Yeah, reading in college, who would’ve thought we’d be doing that.”
As she walked away, I read the back of her sorority T-shirt and thought maybe I was being judgmental, and the thing is, I was.
What I’m trying to say is, yes there are some goofy and horrible people here—people who completely embody all that many of us despise or love, but give all of them a chance. Epitomes deserve compassion too. Ask someone new for coffee, someone you don’t know but just see on campus. If they look interesting, try to chat. The worse that can happen is receiving no response. And then there’s about what, 28,999 more students left to meet (not to mention professors and others alike).
The chances are high that one could meet someone they’d truly enjoy.
I’m going to go have a Chocolate Russian and maybe a bath.
Stewart is a Wichita junior in journalism.
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