Wednesday, November 13, 2019 // The Statement
2B
Managing Statement Editor
Andrea Pérez Balderrama
Deputy Editors
Matthew Harmon
Shannon Ors
Associate Editor
Eli Rallo
Designers
Liz Bigham
Kate Glad
Copy Editors
Silas Lee
Emily Stillman
Photo Editor
Danyel Tharakan
Editor in Chief
Maya Goldman
Managing Editor
Finntan Storer
statement
THE MICHIGAN DAILY | NOVEMBER 13, 2019
I
t was a typical Oxford Monday
morning. I was sitting in my favor-
ite coffee shop sipping my Ameri-
cano, when a man with a giant cowboy hat
walked in. He was dressed in a dashing
suit jacket paired up with bootcut jeans,
pointy leather boots and round sunglass-
es. It was distinctive, but curious style —
a combination of mod and cowboy. I was
sure that he was already accustomed to
attention, evidenced by how he would
automatically ignore anyone’s stare. But as
my eyes were following his hat around, he
caught my gaze and smiled back.
His smile was effortlessly beautiful. The
man seemed unworried about rent, gro-
ceries or working overtime. I was imme-
diately struck. Having been working days
and nights on the 2,000-word philosophy
essay in front of me, I had nothing but
exhaustion on my face. With that effort-
less action, the man with a giant cowboy
hat helped me let go of my annoyances for
a while.
I remained static in my seat, and couldn’t
help but start reflecting on this simple, yet
miraculous interaction. Smiling at strang-
ers? I hated even making eye contact with
them. It’s automatic, almost precognitive,
how I’d gaze elsewhere after only millisec-
onds of staring. People’s responses to my
eye contact drive me crazy: They look back
at you with their wrinkled eyebrows and
frowning lips, as if you’re the reason for
their bad mood. I might be overthinking,
but nevertheless, their reactions impact
my good mood. Truthfully, I’d prefer star-
ing at the pavement. Not only does it help
to avoid tripping, but also prevents anyone
from turning me into a frazzled, introvert-
ed mess.
On my way back home from the coffee
shop, I paid attention to every person walk-
ing past me. It was December. Everybody
spends their calories keeping themselves
warm. People buried their faces in their
scarves, focused on the song blasting in
their AirPods. Winter increases efficiency
– it’s always one destination straight to the
next. That man’s smile, however, punched
everyone who only wanted to move quick-
ly in the face (including me). It was simply
infectious. I should be able to smile like
that and lift up someone else’s spirit in a
snap of a finger.
So I prescribed myself a mission: mas-
ter the art of smiling. Having been accus-
tomed to staring at the bricks on the
pavement, it was quite hard to lift my
head up. In the cold December of Oxford,
the wind was fierce. My eyes, sensitive as
they are, started to get watery. I started
out my mission with some easy targets:
grandmas. They walked slowly, leaving a
good amount of time for them to realize
my gaze. Then I moved to young girls, but
avoiding the ones who seemed to me like
drama queens. From there, I started to
gaze upon every person that walked pass
by — the sharp dressed middle-aged man,
the backpack dude with giant headphones
and the exhausted mom with a stroller.
The wind was still blowing, and my dis-
appointment was piling up — every single
person looked away immediately when our
eyes met.
Just as I stood on the edge of giving up,
there was one exception.
On the narrow Oxford pavement, a
man with a beautiful German shep-
herd by his side was walking towards
me, together in their healthy, fast-paced
steps. He seemed quite friendly. “Last
one of today,” I spoke to myself. I looked
into his eyes and smiled. Unfortunately,
an amusing scene occurred: a strong
wind suddenly swept through, and my
hair flew all over my face. But in between
strands of my hair, the whooshing of the
wind, and my embarrassment, I saw a
huge smile and heard the word “Hello!”
from him. At the moment, this most com-
monly-used word in the world sounded
more beautiful than any song on my iPod.
The wind didn’t slow down its pace, nor
did the man and his dog. But the sound of
‘hello’ lingered in the air. There it was —
the genuineness that occurred easily and
truthfully between two strangers. Noth-
ing can sabotage the beauty, not even the
most terrible, windy English weather.
On my way back home, something
familiar suddenly leaped into my eyes –
the cowboy hat! That man, in his usual
suits, boots and sunglasses, was standing
on the high steps of his hair salon. The
salon is located at a busy crossroad. He
has the perfect spot to watch the busy,
fast
paced,
mind-their-own-business
pedestrians. It was peculiar of him to
stand outside on such a windy day, despite
how fun people-watching can be. But
that was the least of my concern, since
it offered me a perfect opportunity. The
wind — since I was walking in the oppo-
site direction — swept all the messy hair
away from my face. Everything seemed to
work in my favor.
It was my chance to light up his day.
Eye contact
BY IVY CAI, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
ILLUSTRATION BY MAGGIE WIEBE