I never go anywhere without my earphones. Since high school, it’s simply been a rule of thumb. Leaving the apartment? I grab my earphones. Walking to class? I use my headphones. In class? I keep my earphones slung around the back of my neck. It is not necessarily that I dislike social situations, but that I enjoy the constant companionship of music.
Now, imagine my mild irritation when those earphones broke, inexplicably, and that musical companionship was replaced with the harsh noise of reality. The traffic on Route 29. The construction workers around Charlottesville. The late-night commotion on Rugby Road. The talkative friends at surrounding tables in the dining halls. Admittedly, these sounds were all normal in a college atmosphere and nothing to complain about, but it was still different for me. It felt as if I were hearing these trademark noises for the first time.
Most disturbing of all these sounds, however, was the frequency of sirens around Grounds. The day my earphones broke, it was impossible not to notice. When I was forced to walk my daily five miles without that aural companionship, I noticed sirens at least once every mile. When I sat in my apartment at Lambeth, I noticed sirens at least once every hour. At first, I considered it an anomaly of the day, but the trend continued throughout the week. Sirens. Sirens. Sirens. I never actually saw the emergency vehicles or the flashing red-and-blue lights, but the wailing sounds were as clear as day. I suppose, hearing is critical for some things.
The more I thought about the sirens, the more I thought about the actual circumstances behind the sirens. Who was involved? Where was the accident? Was anyone seriously hurt? Sure, these worries are never great to have in the first place, but there is something that makes them exponentially worse: when you have those thoughts multiple times throughout the day.
I mentioned the sirens to a student in my class and she shrugged, saying something about first-years and their insatiable need to drink, but I couldn’t dismiss those calls for help — even if it was a result of foolishness. It didn’t matter how I thought about the sirens because in the end, they always meant someone was in trouble.
Regardless, those broken earphones taught me the value of being present in your community, about taking your surroundings in and stopping to smell the roses. It’s true, I never noticed it before, but those earphones had provided a barricade between me and the world around me. Once they were gone, I had a heightened awareness and a greater appreciation for what really occurred in our community.
I did purchase another pair of earphones, admittedly, but I wear them sparingly — when there are too many distractions around me or even when I’m being a distraction. The key, I learned, is moderation.
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