Talk to strangers and learn something new

To us UF students, there is nothing quite like the dread of seeing someone with a clipboard walking toward us. We hate being approached by strangers. There is a certain pain that comes from hearing those fateful words: “Have you registered to vote in Alachua County?” or “Hi, sorry to bother you!” It’s like being in the bathroom and having your stall door flung open. Even being handed a flier in Turlington Plaza is aggravating. To most of us, avoiding Turlington altogether may be the best solution.

But why does it bother us so much to interact with strangers, and more importantly, should it?

I don’t think it should. Actually, we are more culpable for feeling this dread than those who ignore our privacy. I use the word dread loosely, as a placeholder for all of the other reactions we have toward being approached: irritation, anger, fear and so on. Listening to others’ beliefs, especially ones that challenge our own, isn’t something we want to spend our time doing. I would bet that if the UF population was polled, less than three percent of us would want to grab dinner with a campus preacher.

The ancient world was different. When apostle Paul, for instance, went to Athens to preach the gospel in the first century, it was commonplace for Athenians to do nothing but listen to the ideas and arguments of strangers. They loved rhetoric, debate and persuasion. The words spoken in a public place were debated and challenged. It wasn’t a bad experience for them to hear if their beliefs were wrong because it was a learning experience for everyone involved.

But today, those with strong beliefs stick out like a stick figure in a Jackson Pollock painting. That is because the backgrounds of different peoples’ cultures are inherently subjective. As long as you are happy, you can be a Christian or an atheist. Your beliefs are yours and they work for you, but they might not work for me. I could be different. Everyone’s beliefs are different, but maybe being right isn’t always the most important thing. Who is to really say?

Our assumption is that a person will lay low and seek happiness for his or herself and live life as a private person. For most of us there is nothing pressing we have to share with a stranger. Those abnormal people who knock on our doors to tell us about a political candidate or step in front of us with a flyer outstretched are more of a nuisance than anything else. To debate or engage them is less effective than the most popular method: ignoring them.

Privacy is a complicated thing. We are bothered when it’s ignored but oppressively lonely when it’s not. We don’t want to have to take out our headphones, but we wonder why it’s difficult to make friends. The most difficult thing in our modern world might be making new friends. The next time you walk through campus, look at the benches designed for small groups of people holding only one person and see the ocean of space between individuals sitting just a few feet away from each other. Being an individual is a great thing until you actually feel like one.

Much of our cultural discourse can be reduced to one theme: Leave me alone. We think: "Don’t tell me how to live, I’ll figure that out on my own terms." For the most part, this request has been granted, and at the cost of connecting with people, we are left to eat alone, listen to music alone, think alone and feel alone.

Perhaps we should gladly listen when strangers approach us. It’s most likely a good thing for our solitude to be breached. We can hear about what political agendas are on the ballot-to-be, or how Jesus can save our souls. Perhaps it is less painful to talk to a stranger than it is to feel lonely. The next time someone approaches you with a clip board, don't avert your eyes, stop and talk to them.

Scott Stinson is a UF English senior. His column appears on Wednesdays.