I follow the same regimen every time I walk into a coffee shop: my latte allows me to sit at a table for a few hours; my corner table gives me an unobstructed view of the room; and my reading glasses function like discreet binoculars. I am ready to people-watch. This sacred art does not serve as a voyeuristic pretense, nor does it allow for conceited judgments. People-watching orients us, and gives us insight into different perspectives. Condemned too long as a pastime for outcasts and misfits, this hobby actually provides a mental and an emotional anchor that we so desperately need.
We find certain naturalness to people-watching, perhaps just because so many intricate narratives swirl by us that we cannot help but give into our curiosity. Humans innately have a biological need to know more, so how else could we learn about our reality without colliding into other people’s perceptions? Plus, I highly doubt our Homo sapien forefathers would have gotten very far in the evolutionary timeline had they not carefully observed their kinsmen. More contemporarily, the hierarchy of high school almost demands some sort of ranking, academically, socially, athletically, or otherwise. We people-watch to draw up and confirm these standings. Essentially, we have and will continue to observe our fellow man, so let’s remove the perverted stigma of people-watching.
Whenever I take up residence at Brew HaHa I can sometimes see the scarved hipster angrily typing out all of his pent-up creativity on his MacBook, or the elderly man reading a newspaper, casually delighting in his abundance of time in contrast to the bustling coffee shop. Active people-watching, as opposed to passively eavesdropping, requires you take in the nuances of your subjects. Though I generally complain about the homogeny of Delaware, seeing these quotidian quirks gives me an appreciation of our community’s diversity. Moreover, through these unique tendencies, I gain a better sense of objectivity about myself. People-watching gives me a sense of relativity because I do not observe from a sense of superiority to judge my subjects; I want to learn more about myself, after all. I discover humility in taking in the array of nuances, seeing where I fit in, and finding a sense of harmony in that.
In today’s society, we concentrate inwards for the most part, either in the constant struggle for self-betterment or the quest for individualization. We have to construct barriers so as not to distract ourselves from the main goals (achieve popularity, a 4.0, a varsity letter, etc.) So doing something with the explicit goal of inconspicuousness offers a refreshing reprieve from internal struggles. I feel a certain liberation as a fly on the wall, not preoccupied with receiving judgment. I can climb above the walls I have had to construct, and see a labyrinth of other lives and other people.
The everyday quirks that people do when they believe no one is watching them can give us so much insight into the unique features of humanness. In the microcosm of a coffee shop, you can see innumerable similarities and differences with your fellow patrons in harmony. Though I do not mean to say that maybe if more politicians or policymakers went people-watching, they would have a transformational experience and vow never again to launch pointless wars or bicker to the point of producing an international catastrophe. What I do suggest is that high school ingrains certain negative, provincial characteristics. Finding awareness outside of our personal bubbles counteracts the rat race in which we all play a part. So the next time you are overwhelmed by the grips of life, grab a latte and take a seat. Seeing your problems among an array of others offers serenity and humility not frequently found in today’s self-concentrated society.