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