I was going to write about Thanksgiving, make a few quips about family and the holidays, but something happened that sort of threw me off. Some students have passed away, and one of them was a good friend of my friends. I did not know him tremendously well, not nearly as much as I’d have liked to, but, I don’t want to make my small monologue into some form of eulogy for him; his friends and family can do much better.
No, I want to talk about death objectively, free of religion and the like, especially as it pertains to society.
Humans are a strange set of creatures. We live incredibly temporary lives on the grand scope of the universe we live in, only having appeared in a mere moment in the timeline of existence. So it comes as no surprise that death is just as common in our course of history as life is. Yet, in a person’s mere 100 years or so of being alive, they form connections and bonds with people that will prevail after their deaths.
Do you remember your great-great-grandparents? Probably not. But the life choices they made do still have sway over your life. The company your family kept when you grew up helped shape you as a person, even if you did not know their names. Even the life of some pauper in a foreign country makes some impression on the people who look at them as they pass them in the street. Positive or negative, the impressions people’s lives make on others help shape the actions of the community around them.
If my meaning eludes you, consider this: Although the people who were around 150 years ago are all dead, we carry on their legacies, in some form or another. These collisions with our neighbors become our memories, and help us move forwards through our march of time. Eventually, our younger neighbors will take the torches we left behind and continue their marches with our knowledge. In a sense, the human life may be fragile and temporary, but the life of our society is much bigger and longer-lasting.
What I am saying, if I am saying anything meaningful at all, is that everyone matters. I don’t care if you know or didn’t know either of these students who have passed away, but in the small microcosm of the Stevens community, the interactions of one person and their respective net of influence can easily make waves that will affect your own life. It is my argument that, regardless of familiarity, the passing of a person should deeply affect you, because we are not just a group of individuals, but an entire community. Whether or not we always act like one is another matter altogether.
And when I mean “we,” in that previous statement, I do not mean just the Stevens community. I mean the whole world. If more people could feel emphatically to our fellow humans in other parts of the world, human history just wouldn’t be the same. Just think of the numerous deaths in Paris this past week—they are as every ounce real as the death of our fellow Stevens students, and every ounce just as mournful.
Regardless, if you need to talk to a psychologist (which, to be candid, I totally recommend even if you’re totally fine) please seek out the Counseling Center on the 7th floor of the Howe Center is always there for students, and is, in my opinion, an incredible and often under-utilized student resource.
