“Hello, how are you doing?” from the security guard in Gelb. “Good morning!” from the smiling man standing at the crosswalk. “How are you?” from the staff in Susie’s, smiling behind the counter. These gestures, however small, however expected of polite company, brighten everyone’s day a little bit. No matter how frantic or busy our days may be, there is always time to wave and ask, “Hello, how are you?” to those we meet. After all, people at Andover aren’t strangers but peers, mentors, and friends.
Simply put, common courtesies feel good. The genuineness behind every spontaneous greeting makes people feel seen, especially on a campus as big as Andover. Whether you know the person or not, common courtesies bind the Andover community together, the same way the individual strands of spider silk strengthen the web. Yet, people are often afraid to say “hi” to one another, uncertain about what type or degree of greeting your relationship warrants. Especially if the other party is not someone in your close social circles, common courtesies quickly become replaced by a nod, a polite smile, a slight wave, or nothing at all. While the distinction between a verbal greeting and a nod seems minor, these substitutions encourage a culture that slowly distances us from one another.
Instead of wrestling with the complex mental calculus of, “What’s the ideal distance for acknowledging someone’s presence on the paths?”, why not turn common courtesies into an instinct? What we don’t realize is that the dilemma of common courtesy is mutual. All it takes is for one person to establish a precedent. Trust in the kindness of our community and step out of your social comfort zone.
Our community is made up of more than students. Common courtesies are small ways through which we can recognize all the people who make up our community. Trudging through the routine of classes, homework, and extracurriculars, we’re easily consumed by our own problems. Even mundane acts like waving at the cars that yield to let you pass allow us to connect with the world beyond Andover.
While we might feel awkward greeting other students, greeting faculty can feel even more daunting. We tend to overlook how teachers exist outside the bubble of History textbook readings, six-level questions, conferences, and desperate emails hastily signed with “Sent from my iPhone.” We might feel like just another check mark in the attendance book. Our relationship with faculty becomes confined to the bounds of the classroom. Faculty members are an integral part of the Andover community. Taking two minutes out of our days for spontaneous conversations can make the difference between a campus of parallel paths — people passing by each other, but never intersecting — or a web where students and faculty alike engage with one another.
Because despite what the term might suggest, “common” courtesies are fizzling out. That’s why intentional, unexpected gestures from the crosswalk traffic director — so cheery at 8:30 in the morning — feel special.
This Editorial represents the opinions of The Phillipian vol. CXLVIII.
