Watching them sit alone inside the cafeteria, isolated in their new school, I remained at my obnoxiously crowded table, a body of laughter and chatter amidst a sea of foot traffic. The contrast was explicit and discomforting, a silent reminder of the barriers we deploy in social settings. The bell rang and I started walking to class as I pondered ways to include the lonely figure in my friend group.
Including them in our circle interrupted my stream of thoughts for days. My companions, a lively and close-knit group in a school with fewer than 400 students often prided themselves on their open-mindedness. Still, I couldn’t forget the feeling that they may not approve of someone who is “new” joining us. They and I knew too well the struggles of being new, having at some point overcome “new-ness.” However, for unspoken reasons, they seemed reluctant to extend their understanding of being new to others.
Too often do we in high school and in other places assume a person’s character from a single glance or interaction. Snap judgements as such are a barrier to inclusivity. How can a glance infer that the “new” person didn’t share any of our interests? It would be nice to have another ski team member or cross-country athlete. Individually we considered ourselves open and welcoming, but as a group, we unintentionally lose our sense of inclusivity. The dynamic of being together forced us to stick to the familiar and reject “new.”
In my ideal world, our group could act as the epitome of inclusivity, a brew of diverse backgrounds and interests. We would be approachable, our conversations would be inviting to anyone seeking companionship. If the “new” person happened to overhear us, they would feel an open invitation to join in, to become a part of the fabric of our group.
I should’ve forced my friends to be more inclusive. Fourteen months later, that “new” person is more connected than ever to our friend group. But it took far too long to reach this point. We should’ve been more inclusive from the beginning. If we had been more welcoming, our connection with the "new" person would have been expedited.
Posted in response to the challenge Should've.
Comments
Sounds like you learned something important from this, so don't hold it against yourself too much! For what it's worth, I think every one of us has made this exact mistake, and lived to regret it just a little bit: Not being a part of the welcoming committee for a new classmate or coworker, that is, which can feel especially shameful when you discover they're a real upstanding human or could even be your next best friend. I'm so happy for you that you and this newbie eventually became close!
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