How Are We Doing?

I went to a very large high school.
There were 4,000 students in the school.
There were 1,000 graduating seniors.
We graduated Amy Apple to Zach Zebra, without reading each individual name.

Graduation caps were thrown in the air.
Tears were shed and hugs were given.
Many went off to college.
Others chose to go to work right after graduation.

I was thinking of all of this when I glanced at my high school yearbook.
I keep it on one of my bookshelves in the living room.
I keep it there to refer to, just in case I meet someone from all those years ago.
I happened to begin reading some of the things people wrote when I asked them to sign it.

Never forget me, seems to be the prevailing statement.
I will never forget you; written over and over by people I have never seen since then.
They are not platitudes.
People write them with the best intent, but then life happens.

College takes you away.
Marriage moves you into another circle of friends.
Children are born and priorities are different.
You grow up and you are different.

I have always enjoyed people.
Meeting new people and talking to them energizes me.
As social as I am, I need my alone time.
My time to be quiet, my time to be still, my time to rejuvenate.

The people part of me loved walking in the hallways.
Between classes a sea of students walked down the corridors.
No backpacks could be carried in the building.
Consequently you had to carry your books in your arms from class to class.

The timing of your lunch determined the amount of books you carried.
Most people only went to their lockers at lunchtime.
I admit to dropping my books when I was near a certain young man.
I only dropped them once on a staircase, and he picked them up.

I married him.

Going through the hallways notes were passed.
Going through the hallways activities were planned.
Going through the hallways, I’d like to get to know you, glances were given.
Going through the hallways, all you could do was meet eyes and say, Hi.

Apparently, I said, Hi, quite a lot.
It was a way to connect in those fleeting moments between classes.
As I was looking at my yearbook, I saw it.
I laughed just as hard now as I did then.

Reggie (my nickname then, but that’s another story)
Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi.
P.S.
Hi

It was unsigned, but I knew who it was by the handwriting.
The one who always teased me about always saying Hi to people.
The one who would remain a dear friend of both my husband and I through the years.
The one who appreciated my greeting, even though he teased me relentlessly.

I found that I still say, Hi, to people even to this day.
I meet their eyes in a store.
I say, Hi, to them in passing.
A greeting to brighten the day of another, which brightens my day as well.

Did you ever watch a child in a shopping cart?
If you smile at them, they will first hide behind their mother.
Then they peek out ever so carefully looking to see if you are smiling again.
If you are, more often than not, they will smile back.

In fact, you may have begun a game of peekaboo.
You may get a toy handed to you, or a shoe, or a pacifier that they take out of their mouth.
One smile, one Hi, and you have opened a door, if only for a minute to community.
Community: knowing you are not alone here.

I wonder how well we are doing?
There was a local news report of a park ranger beaten by a skateboarder in a city park.
The ranger told the young man that he could not skate there.
Frustrated and angry, the young man beat the ranger.

The attack was caught on video by someone who filmed it on their phone.
The question was asked, why film the incident rather than help the victim?
No one helped.
No one stepped up and said, enough.

It is easy to point fingers.
It is easy to say, if I was there…
It is easy to say that you would get involved if you witnessed such a thing.
A psychologist, who was interviewed, called what happened the bystander effect.

The bystander effect, or bystander apathy, is a social psychological phenomenon that refers to cases in which individuals do not offer any means of help to a victim when other people are present. The probability of help is inversely related to the number of bystanders. The greater the number of bystanders, the less likely it is that any one of them will help.

In a crowd, people tend to think that someone else will step up.
Waiting for someone else to step up often means that no one steps up.
Doing nothing can also be the fear of getting involved.
Doing nothing can be the fear of getting injured yourself.

The psychologist, who was interviewed, was asked how the victim could have gotten help.
Look one person in the eye and ask for help; it is harder for them to walk away.
Look one person in the eye.
Community: knowing you are not alone here.

The park ranger is recovering and an arrest was made all because of the video.
The whole scenario made me think about community.
How are we doing?
Can we begin to meet eyes, smile a smile, say Hi, and step up?

Start showing others they are not alone here.
Life is hard enough but it is almost impossible if you think you are alone.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:12,13)

We have the Perfect example to follow.
One who showed us how to love by giving His very life.
How are we doing?