Return of the rudeness
Tuesday, November 25, 1997
Return of the rudeness
MANNERS: UCLA in the aftermath of victory
You went to the "big game." You cheered loudly and lost your voice and did 8-claps until your palms bruised. You told Trojans to go to hell. You hugged people who wouldn't be worthy of an on-campus glance.
On Saturday night you reveled in Bruin pride and spirit as you partied with a bunch of Bruins, so happy to be at UCLA, drunkenly loving those around you.
Come Monday you return to reality. The delusion is over, the stadium is empty and you shuffle off to class. The people you danced with now ignore you. The ones you hugged scorn you. And the glorious, unified UCLA spirit crumbles. Such is the real UCLA.
It is sickening, this alleged "spirit." The shallow and fleeting feeling creates the illusion of a strong student body willing to rally behind players who lead us to victory. Do we rally around Westwood's homeless people as we drive past them on the way to our financially aided apartments to give them support? Nah ... that doesn't bring the parties.
As much as I adore big men who fall on top of each other in tight knickers while playing with an oval toy, I think sports mislead us. For a few days a year, we fool ourselves thinking that we like each other, care about each other and have feelings of good will toward our fellow Bruins. But we don't.
Look at our everyday behavior the other 200 days of the year when athletes are not adorned in blue and gold. Suddenly we are not a team. We are a bunch of self-centered students afraid to veer from our daily, personal agendas.
Now that we've returned to earth after our euphoric weekend, we can examine the typical UCLA atmosphere when not united by a grandiose sporting event. Rude. Obnoxious. That's how 50 percent of UCLA students act. Are you one of the many who contribute to the rudeness that suffocates the rest of us?
Here's how to find out:
You talk incessantly in class about your pathetic sex life, oblivious to the fact that your annoying whispers disrupt the learning process of 500 other students.
You see someone on campus whom you have met before, whom you completely and totally recognize, and while not harboring negative feelings, you completely ignore the person.
You walk down Bruin Walk in a straight path aggressively brushing up against other students in an adamant refusal to veer slightly to the left or right.
You steal things, like my UCLA Bruins license plate frame, although there are a billion of them in the student store that you pass by every damn day.
Severe cases of this acerbic epidemic lead you to infect the world outside our comfy UCLA bubble:
When merging on the freeway you wait until the last second to stick your big car into the lane in front of the other 50 cars that have been waiting patiently.
You sit in a movie theater with your pals, and just when everyone else is crying or otherwise enthralled with the on-screen action, you burst into giggles or hoots, shouting, "nipple!" and proving to the universe that you're prepubescent and juvenile.
You pull into a parking spot that someone else was obviously waiting for, a fact that was clearly evident by the blinker flashing in your face.
Why so rude? Can you possibly be a little more pleasant?
When people engage in such ill-mannered and repugnant behaviors, they inflict a disturbing and uncomfortable mood onto others. The result is our campus: 30,000 people stuffed into a tiny area feeling angry and resentful.
And wanting to kick a lot of ass.
Some days it doesn't bother you. Some days your life is great and no one can ruin it; you're walking on sunshine. Good for you. But other days when everything has gone wrong, when you just want to be at home in bed with a package of Oreos, the slightest provocation, even by an unsuspecting stranger, makes your blood boil. You get to a point where you think, "If one more person shoves his friggin' backpack in my face while trying to come IN to the lecture hall before the rest of us get OUT, I am going to ..."
What a place UCLA would be if we all tried to act just a wee bit more courteous and understanding. That's not asking much. We could stop thinking exclusively about our own agendas and be a little more considerate of those around us.
I love it when I sit in class and ask the person next to me a question about the material if I can't see what the professor wrote or missed the last words he or she said. I lean over and whisper, "What was that last point?" and the student looks at me like I am from Venus. He doesn't even answer! If he does, it's a muffled "dunno" accompanied by a shoulder shrug. I know he knows. What a schmuck.
And forget about just initiating conversation for the heck of it. Our moms told us not to talk to strangers, don't you know? If you want to acquaint yourself with someone who seems, for whatever reason, interesting to you, too bad. Starting a conversation with a random person goes way beyond the bounds of social norms. Do you really think someone out of your own clique has anything to say to you? Think again. Better to just keep to yourself, be isolated, live in your little world and become a Unabomber.
The fact that I, who detest trivial small talk, have observed this aura of impersonal rudeness says something in itself. I am not an expert schmoozer by choice. I prefer not to do it unless I have a genuine interest in the schmoozee. But when I truly want to talk to someone I hardly know, I don't get very far. People do not respond well in those circumstances.
While cold and unfriendly behavior might be expected at a huge university, it seems the sheer size of UCLA should be an even better reason to make a few friends! Only good things can come from knowing more people.
I'm not suggesting that you run out seeking superficial friendships based on nothing substantial to merely seem more popular or have more people to say "hi" to. But there is something to be said for opening up your world to others around you. Not only will you learn more about them, but you may also learn more about yourself.
The next time you want to talk to someone, do it. And if a person you don't know approaches you, there is no need to become unnecessarily alarmed. True, he or she might be a freak who wants your body, but not necessarily. Don't flatter yourself with an automatic assumption. Maybe the person has a question, or is lost, or liked what you said in class. Or maybe he or she does think you're cute. So what? Strangers, so long as they are not rude or offensive, are not to be feared. He or she might just introduce you to a whole new perspective.
If congeniality comes so easily at the Rose Bowl, why not bring it back to Westwood? You can share beer at the stadium but not notes in Haines? The other day I saw a homeless man, with a tiny bit of food, sharing it with the pigeons who surrounded him. He took a bite for himself, then threw some to his feathered friends. This man, who hardly ever eats, has compassion for pigeons! Where has your compassion gone? Can you muster up enough cordiality for fellow students?
I understand human nature dictates that we think about ourselves first and the rest of the world later. Survival of the fittest, Darwin and all that. But instinct does not govern how we live. It is natural to walk around naked, but we don't. It is natural to let our hair grow long everywhere, but we don't. It is unnatural to sit in a classroom for six hours a day, but we do. Our lives do not operate according to the laws of nature. Our behavior need not either. Being polite, thinking of someone else and feeding the pigeons could make UCLA a more pleasant place for all of us. And since we spend years here, it is a worthwhile investment.
Why not eat lunch with someone you don't know very well? Afraid of the awkward silences? Confront your fears, establish your improvisational skills and learn something. Talk to student strangers, try not to be rude. Make the extra effort. Only then will we have true school spirit: one that perseveres beyond the stadium and onto the courts of life.
advertise
contact us
top of page