SleetSnow
I stepped out into the weather after a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with Mykala; we had accidentally attended the lovely candle-lit, whitish tablecloth affair put on by Saint Thomas Food Service. Standing at the marble porch of Murray Herrick Center, I briefly contemplated the mix of snow and rain fighting for a majority of the precipitation. I swept loose fall slush from my handlebars and seat, stooping to unlock my bicycle. As I struggled to pop the frozen lock, I heard a heavily accented voice from behind me, “So confusing!” I turned slightly, seeing a young man from Africa walking past. I realized he had been talking to me. He added, “… just don’t know what to make of it.”
His quick wit caught me off guard, but slowly I realized what he was pointing out: this weather is confusing. I considered how cool it is to hear other people’s perspectives. I mean, it is very possible that this man had grown up in a place utterly devoid of snow, and I would imagine his conception of snow was large white movie-flakes. It must be strange to see something like rain yet feel something like snow for the first time.
I don’t think diversity is the big meetings or formal dialogue that universities stress as a selling point; diversity is the infinitesimal moment when tangents of culture cross, and people see the world from another’s perspective.
Comments
John
And this is where you recommend the movie "Crash." There, now that has been said, beddy time.
Dan McKeown
when we were younger, my family used to call the mixture of rain and snow "snain"
that doesnt really mean anything, its just a little known fact about the McKeowns