The deafening silence of Alderman Library was only interrupted by the ruffle of pages or the singular cough people let out here and there. I glanced down at my chemistry textbook and then back to the people in the room with me. One person was pushing up his glasses, another was chewing on the straw of her drink — lost in concentration. All around me there was movement of some sort, all in silence.
When my metal bottle fell to the floor with a loud crack, everyone seemed to break out of their silent ponderings, eyes fixating on the source of the disturbance — me. One person even put his hand over his heart and muttered “Jesus” under his breath. My eyes were wide from the startling and sudden noise, my face slowly turning red as more people realized that I was the culprit. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights as I smiled weakly, mouthing “sorry” to a couple people before bending down to retrieve the offending object.
Doubled-over, my head under the table like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand, I was safe from the disapproving glances of the library dwellers, the ones who knew better than to make such mistakes in the middle of a quiet haven. I felt like an intruder, a bumbling fool, like today was the first time I had ever stepped foot in a library.
Knowing staying there with my head ducked under would only make things worse, I re-emerged and tried to arrange my features in as nonchalant an expression as I could muster. I securely stuffed the bottle into the depths of my bag, trying to show people around me how sorry I was and that I had vowed never to associate myself with such items again.
I found myself thinking about another experience in which my actions had been the same, but the setting was completely different.
I was sitting on the back of the bus on my way home from my high school, and I was surrounded by kids engaged in various activities — from playing video games to having screaming matches. I went to high school in India, and my school encompassed all grades from kindergarten to twelfth grade — which explained the mix of tiny little 6-year-olds and tall, silent, brooding teenagers that shared my bus. It was a zoo — discipline was nonexistent as the teachers who rode the bus were either snoozing or caught up in their own conversations with each other. Therefore, there was absolutely no difference when a metal bottle dropped to the floor of the bus with the same sickening crack and rolled away.
My head perked up at the familiar, unpleasant sound, but no one made a move to help me catch the bottle, because no one noticed. I was just another noisemaker in a bus-full of noisemakers. The only thing that wouldn’t go unnoticed were if someone set off a firecracker. No one looked at me like I was an intruder. On the contrary, no one cared the slightest.
It is simply interesting to see how the same noise in two completely different settings had evoked completely different reactions from myself and those around me. Most of all, I found it intriguing how I as a person handled the situation. I could go from sporting a completely flustered, on-edge demeanor to displaying a cool, indifferent attitude.
What would have happened if I caused such a distraction in the middle of a piano recital? I would probably have received even more disapproving looks than those I had gotten at Alderman. If I had been in the middle of general chemistry lecture, I may have been able to get away with it because so many students are wrapped up in their own worlds. I would have been able to play off this accident with greater ease and would have forgotten about my blunder in no time.
While I’ve only take one sociology course in my entire academic career, it was definitely enough to make me realize how much of an effect my environment has on my behavior and the way I act. Of course, part of it is also influenced by the kind of person I am — my self-consciousness has lead me to view any deviation from the norm as a source of tension. I have never been able to act ‘natural’ in a situation that isn’t commonplace. Some people are able to carry off an unaffected poise in any setting, but I’ve always felt more comfortable behaving exactly the way in which my surroundings require.
Whether that is a good or a bad thing may be subject to debate, what I’ve noticed so far how compelling it is that small instances such as this — a misplaced noise or disturbance — can reveal so much about the person who caused it.
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