I was nervous about meeting my new classmates, even if it was only online. What if they were smarter, funnier, cooler, awesomer than me? With hesitation, I navigated to the Tufts 2020 Facebook page, saw a post that read: “Any fellow theatre geeks out there? :D”, and sent the poster a friend request. “This was it,” I thought, “no turning back now!”
An hour later, my friend request was accepted, and the next day, she came online; you could tell this from the little green dot that stood next to her name in Facebook Messenger. And so I moved my mouse pointer, nervous yet determined, towards the green light. This light means many things to me, and it’s this wonderfully virescent “online” illumination that names my blog. But whenever I mention it, people always start talking about some book from the 1920’s about bootlegging and “old sports.” Weird, right?
I’m talking about the Facebook notification, though. When someone’s little green dot appears, it means that you can reach them. You can talk to them. They’re right there! All it takes is a few sentences, a few irrevocable sentences, and then a press of the “enter” button. They’re so close, yet still so far away, and no matter the distance, be it in miles or in social strata, their attention can so easily be had. You could grasp it, if you wanted to. Would you do it? Would you reach for the green light?
I typed the message. I sent the message. And then, I waited.
German folklore tells of the doppelgänger, someone who’s your perfect double, and that’s precisely who replied to my message that afternoon. Hamilton, Meisner, cats, waffles, – we had so many interests in common that we even came up with an itemized list of things that we could spend all night discussing. Philosophy, acting methods, Sherlock, producing a musical, modern-day Chinese communism – the list goes on and on.
This was a success! Confident, I messaged another Jumbo. But things were different this time around. We didn’t share any similar interests, so there was nothing for us to talk about – or so I thought. As I soon learned, differences can (and often do) lead to even more interesting conversations than similarities. You see, meeting people who are similar to you is great, because you can exchange thoughts and experiences on common subject matter. But meeting people who are different from you is, I would argue, even better. So what if they’re not passionate about dancing, or architecture, or F. Scott Fitzgerald? Talk about those things anyway!
In my opinion, it’s more interesting to hear an impassioned speech on a topic that you know nothing about (as opposed to one in which you are already well-versed). Not only are you learning, but you’re giving someone else, who may be just as nervous to meet you as you are to meet them, an opportunity to talk about a subject they’re comfortable with, and take pride in their knowledge of it. Being smart is cool!
And who knows? That half-awake Jumbo, texting you with fervor at the edge of their bed at 3:00 in the morning, may just be the person who makes you consider something in a new light. Who changes your opinion. Who forces you to think, and I mean really think. Talking to my new peers is very intellectually taxing, and I LOVE IT. If there’s one thing I’m passionate about, it’s passion. To be surrounded by so many people who love so many things (and love talking about them) is what I’ve come to expect from Tufts – and I’d bet you twelve to seven that my expectations are only to be further surpassed. So, I encourage you to take a chance. Talk to someone. Believe in the green light!