On a campus with such  a population that includes artistic prodigies, soccer stars, and that quiet person permanently parked at that third-floor Olin study carrel, it is sometimes difficult to know how to connect with everyone. Upon seeing someone new, we tend to place him or her into some type of category of approachable or non-approachable. We are easily intimidated by a confident strut and dismissive of a self-conscious whisper, so that we never take the opportunity to reach out. We forget that people we do not approach are just that—people. Individuals who we automatically put in the non-approachable category have the same fears, anxieties, and troubles as everyone else. Not only do they have the same emotions as “approachables,” but they likely also view themselves as perfectly approachable.

So why is it that when we notice the boy sitting in front of us in class who we recognize from an impressive musical performance or football game, we tend to think that he is in the non-approachable category and should therefore be avoided? Why do we think in these terms and decide not speak to someone we admire? Perhaps we act out of fear that we may be rejected or we may not measure up to the degree of “coolness” that we ascribe to our object of admiration.

On the other hand, why do we overlook the quiet girl in the corner of the library just because she seems to melt deeper into her sweater every time someone walks by? Perhaps we have decided that we are too cool to acknowledge her and cannot imagine what we could possibly gain from that interaction.

By swiftly categorizing everyone we see, we effectively position ourselves as the center of “normalcy” (or, as some of us might imagine, the super-fantastic center of “exceptionality”), so that everyone we come across is judged with respect to our own position. We see ourselves as the center of the world and the objective reference point for all things knowable, whereby our judgment is completely sound and reasonable.

While I recognize that we have no way of understanding things other than from our own perspectives, it may be useful to remind ourselves that, just maybe, our assessments of ourselves and others are not correct. We assume that people feel the emotions that we subscribe to them upon seeing their outward personas and disregard the possibility that they are in fact not as we see them. I acknowledge that this idea is also coming from an entirely subjective standpoint (i.e. mine), but I think it is safe to say that, by and large, the people who we deem to be non-approachables are much more “normal” than we give them credit for. If we step out of our heads for a minute and stop over-thinking and over-analyzing our interactions, we may come to realize that we are just meeting another human being not unlike ourselves.

Although we are constantly taught here at Wesleyan that everyone is fundamentally the same and equal, we seem not to internalize the idea, or at least forget about it, when it comes to people that pass through our own lives. The boy who is fantastic at reciting slam poetry and the girl who says insightful things in class are fundamentally the same as you and occupy positions of approachability equal to your own. In fact, it is quite possible that you appear just as admirable or unassuming in your persona as you deem others to be.

Thus, by continually reminding ourselves that we are not the center of the universe and the master authority on character judgment, we may be able to recognize the spark within all people and accept them for the unique qualities they possess. If we remember that, ultimately, every individual is essentially a relatable person and not a figure on a pedestal to be automatically praised or ignored, we can give ourselves that extra push necessary to engage with someone new. And isn’t that what college is all about?