An Homage to Human Connection
Hellacious, apocalyptic, and-—of course—unprecedented. When you google “words to describe 2020” these are the results that immediately pop up. I would consider all of these words accurate descriptors of the year but, there is one word in particular that I think belongs on this list: isolating. The most literal example of isolation in 2020 is the novel coronavirus that has kept us six feet apart, quarantined, and masked up. On top of that, the polarizing election has divided the U.S. raising tensions between neighbors, friends, and family members. On a more personal note, because I’m taking a gap year, I’ve had to say goodbye to a majority of my friends as they go off to school, while I remain in my hometown. It’s been exceptionally easy to get wrapped up in the loneliness this year, but it has helped me to notice and appreciate the small moments of togetherness that are still present in everyday life. I’d like to share some of these moments.
LMFAO: Humans are thought to be one of the only species that have a sense of humor and that laugh as an expression of said humor. There’s nothing quite like a good laugh shared among friends, family members, or a significant other. The kind of laugh that comes from your belly, draws tears from your eyes, making it impossible to speak, and makes your lungs and sides ache. I’ve noticed that it’s in moments of all-consuming laughter that any self consciousness or awkwardness falls away. It’s in laughter that mine and other’s walls come down and we’re allowed to be uniquely human together.
Real Talk: When life gets monotonous, I’ve realized people become their perceived roles, whether it be a job, responsibility, or passion. I think The Lumineers sum this idea up perfectly in their song “Cleopatra” with the line, “But I've read this script and the costume fits, so I'll play my part.” I’m guilty of doing this in my job as a waitress. When you’re working everyday for an extended period of time you fall into a pattern, “Welcome, what can I get you started with … perfect anything else … thank you, have a great day!” While I’m at work I disappear and am replaced by the waitress who is incapable of breaking her script. Whenever this animatronic version of myself is revealed by responding “perfect” to an unexpected “thank you” I become sobered by the realization that a lot of the time I’m not actually interacting with people. These roles limit any genuine connection with each other turning interactions into transactions. But, every once in a while it happens that I break out of my role as waitress and whoever I’m talking to breaks out of their role as customer (or vice versa) and we have a real conversation. It is within these exchanges, no matter how simple, that I again feel that ever elusive feeling of togetherness.
Dogs (duh): It’s no secret the benefit being around animals can provide. Dogs specifically are great pets, aids, therapists, etc. But, recently the power they have for bringing people together has become very clear to me. It’s not uncommon for me to ask to pet someone’s dog when I’m out and about. In doing so I forge an obvious connection with the dog who is excited for the extra attention, but I’m now coming to appreciate the brief connection created with the dog’s owner at the same time. By simply stopping to love on someone’s dog two complete strangers are connected. You don’t have to have anything else in common except for the adoration you both have for the animal in that exact moment. It’s a fleeting form of togetherness, but one that I think exemplifies the beauty of humankind.
Sing-Along: Finally, one last observation of togetherness I’ve experienced in recent months has come in the form of singing. Now, I am no singer, not by a long shot, but it is by embracing my tone deafness, and freeing myself from any judgments that I find community with others. Like I had stated previously, I’m a waitress, more specifically, I work at a fastfood restaurant where the inside of the building is completely closed off to customers, allowing my coworkers and I to blast music. Being able to let loose at work and sing along to throw backs or the Hamilton soundtrack has helped me make some of my closest friends. We are unified by our knowledge of the lyrics, our off key belting, and the fun everyone is having as a result of said music. It doesn’t matter that we can’t sing—oftentimes we can’t even get the words out we’re laughing too hard—the sense of togetherness doesn't leave any room for embarrassment.
While this year hasn’t been kind to our human need for community, I’ve found it powerful and important to consciously look for and pursue moments of togetherness. Whether it be with people we know intimately or strangers passing on the street these seemingly rare instances restore my faith in humanity and help me to see silver linings even in the current, all encompassing gloom of the world. No amount of masks, divisive politics, or even physical distance can completely eradicate our capacity for connection. Keep the faith.