Staring is Caring

If one searches “staring problem” on the hit app Fizz, they’ll come to find tons of posts with hundreds, if not thousands, of upvotes each. Nearly once a month, a new post about a freshman gawking at a particularly daring computer sticker or outfit choice surfaces on the leaderboard. 

To many, the amount of time students at Loyola spend staring is egregious. To a select few, maybe staring is a once-acceptable alternative for passing time in a screenless manner. 

Loyola students’ aversion to staring is justifiable. 

On CTA trains and buses, it’s commonplace for gazes to be fixed firmly at the rubber flooring of the train lest unwanted attention is drawn from the wrong person. In many Western cultures, staring is often considered rude, and Chicago’s no exception. In class, eye contact with anything beyond the board is considered awkward or uncomfortable.

But what happened to the childlike whimsy staring used to have? What happened to the effortless delight of staring contests? What happened to light-up sneakers kicking the back of the seat while playing I Spy? 

So many daily parts of life rely on public perception — from the actions people make to the routes they travel from class to the outfits they wear. The need to live up to strangers’ expectations is commonplace, especially on college campuses where one’s outward appearance can dictate social status and opportunity. 

Often, the decisions we make in our day-to-day life are inherently performative. Without the knowledge others will be looking and perceiving actions and outfits, we’d likely spend less time on them. Less knowledge of people paying attention means less fear of appearing stupid to peers, but also less value in the quiet joy of a pair of yellow converse or a pretty bracelet. 

This isn’t to say the only reason people dress the way they dress or do what they do, but it does hold weight in the daily routine of people everywhere.

Because of the self-conscious way teens and young adults tend to operate, the aversion to staring is justifiable. Few people enjoy the implication everyone passing on a busy sidewalk has most likely perceived and could possibly be judging — or staring at — them.

But staring could also lead to better things and more present adults. By tuning into the moment, whether it be gazing at a Canada goose on the quad or reading someone’s shirt, people are making the effort to acknowledge what is happening in their daily lives. 

Especially now, when so many aspects of school and work are sequestered into an electronic device which can fit into a pocket, the importance of staring is at an all-time high. 

Staring can provide a gracious reprieve from the strain constantly focusing on a screen provides. It’s not natural for eyes to be fixated on a device for hours at a time, which can often lead to eye problems and migraines. 

Staring — at a tree, the lake, even the ceiling — can combat this computer-induced eye strain and allow the gazer to check in with their surroundings. 

Moreover, when we pay attention to what’s happening around us, we are more likely to take pleasure in mundane aspects of life. When we take stock of our surroundings, every snowflake seems like a small miracle, and each newly green leaf, a new opportunity.

Being aware of one’s surroundings and the people in them can lead to numerous safety benefits as well. The embarrassing moment when you bump into someone because they’re looking at their phone? Eradicated. Half of cell phone users are affected by this type of disordered — and even dangerous — walking. If people took the time to gaze upon their surroundings rather than being distracted, said distracted walking wouldn’t be an issue. 

It’s not just convenient for oneself to spend less time engrossed in distractions like a cell phone, but it also gives others the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone is picking apart each individual detail of the people they pass; they’re just taking in the often loud and bright colors of the world around them. 

Maybe, the next time awkward eye contact’s made in the Mundelein elevator, it’s not the looker being weird or judgmental; maybe it’s an effort to be more present in life’s fleeting moments.