Naomi girson | opinions editor

I went to one of those high schools where everyone knew everyone. The graduating classes were small, the classrooms even smaller. I had chemistry, biology and psychology with the same people year after year. I got really used to going to a school where ice breakers were only for the teachers, and everyone knew where I lived.

I was eager to go to college to have a more diverse pool of people to experience. But sometimes I wish that I didn’t have to introduce myself at the beginning of every semester. It was nice to hear other people groan and instinctively correct substitute teachers that botched the pronunciation of my name. Now my classmates are the ones that mess it up, and I have to decide if I want to correct them on any particular day.

However, some classes are better than others. And it’s really amazing when every once in a while, I get a wonderful bustling discussion-based class full of fun people.

After all, a big part of college is in fact attending classes, though some people might not want to admit such a thing.

I’ve had classes where I’ve made friends I stay in contact with, but I’ve also had classes with a room full of people that I can’t even make small talk on the elevator with.

I sit in a room with this person almost three hours a week for a whole semester, and I don’t even get a wave on the sidewalk if I see them a month or two later.

But sometimes, I get that community feeling back in the classroom. This semester, I have a good thing going with a few of my classmates in a history class I’m taking.

There’s a lot of discussion encouraged in the class, which helps us talk to each other. But we also have to re-arrange the seats each day before we begin, as my professor likes the desks to form a semi-circle to better facilitate that aforementioned discussion.

I get there 10 minutes before class starts, and sometimes the chairs are already in formation — a spot allocated for each member of class before they even arrive for the day.

Last week, I asked the girl two seats away from me what she was drinking, and she told me it was Bosnian iced tea and she would bring me one next week, if I wanted.

Sure enough, the next Monday she brought not one but two Bosnian iced teas for both me and the girl who sits next to me (who I’ve become acquainted with).

As we tried the delicious beverage, a few classmates across the room asked what we were drinking and how it tasted.

It was just a sweet moment. Now, I have to bake chocolate chip cookies for her. And I might as well bring them for the whole class.

That’s something I used to do in high school, for all those peers that I knew so well. Sometimes being from a small town has its benefits. It’s good to wave at people on the sidewalk, and give people an occasional treat. Why shouldn’t showing up and being present deserve a small reward now and then?

It used to be habitual to do these small acts of kindness for those around me, and when circumstances allow, all those instincts kick right back into place, and I find myself making small talk in the elevator.

Naomi Girson can be reached at girsonn@duq.edu