Mom doesn’t work here
“It’s Iggin me baby,” was the title to R&B artist Chico DeBarge’s title track on his late 1990s lp release. He of course referred to the aggravation and frustration he felt for the callous disregard for his feelings that his girlfriend displayed when she wasn’t in his presence.
However, our lack of respect for our campus, its employees and each other is iggin,(aggravating/annoying) the hell out of me.
Am I the only person besides my mother who’s strongly against littering? I mean, I know I’m a native Texan, and I’ve probably seen the “Don’t Mess With Texas” ads more than I’d care to remember, but they’ve certainly stuck with me over the years.
Have we all gone mad? I’m seriously beginning to think that some of my peers have forgotten that their parents and housekeepers don’t work or go to school here.
When I first visited SMU, one of the things that set this campus apart from others was its aesthetic qualities. When you take a minute and think about it, you can marvel at the beauty of our campus. It’s a shame though, because recently I noticed an overwhelming number of students littering. They do it in classrooms, walking to classes and outside their cars as they’re driving.
While I’m no anti-litter activist, I strongly agree with preserving the beauty of Mother Earth. Yes. Peppermint wrappers and tissues count as litter.
My housekeeper at home is named Ayeta. While she is mainly there to pick up after two of my younger siblings and do laundry; Saturday and Sunday mornings she’s more than happy to scramble some eggs for me, and iron the outfit I need for the day. Her happiness doesn’t stem from the phat check my father writes her, but because we treat her like she’s a person and not just a hired hand. She knows that I realize that and respect her. The fact that I’ve take the time to even learn her name, and tried so hard to speak only Spanish in her presence means a lot to her.
My dad, who is fluent in Spanish, instilled in me how important it is to “know” people. Look at name tags. Show people that you appreciate the little things.
In addition to all the litter I’ve encountered, I was appalled to witness the lack of respect some of my fellow undergrads treat-rather mistreat the buses and their drivers that transport us from one late night event to the next.
I happened to strike up a conversation Saturday night on my way to Derby Days with Ms. Brenda. Ms. Brenda, as well as all the other drivers, owns her buses, and has to clean up everything we leave behind. That includes beer bottles and vomit. Who wants to clean up someone else’s vomit?
There are students here from some of the best prep-schools in the world, yet some of us seemed to have left our manners at those schools. We get a few drinks in our system, and carelessly allow ourselves to forget our manners. We have a serious problem with appreciating the things we so often take for granted and overlook. There’s no telling how much money SMU spends on maintaining the immaculate landscaping-so why don’t we appreciate it.
The shampooed carpet, hand polished banisters and well edged lawns are all priorities of our campus. Someone would definitely raise hell the moment the lawns begin to look the least bit neglected.
As we stroll from Dallas Hall to the Student Center, we hardly even hear the roaring of the leaf blowers and lawn mowers over our cell phone conversations. It wasn’t until I visited my friend’s residence hall at TCU, that I noticed how well maintained our residence halls are.
One of my biggest pet peeves is hearing a classmate talk, whether it’s a whisper or not, while the professor or another student has the floor. Not only is it annoying, but it’s rude and disruptive.
This should have been taught when we were in kindergarten, but so many of us seem to have let it slip our educated minds. Just because your parents and kindergarten teachers aren’t here, it doesn’t give you the right to not lend common courtesy to others.
Of course everyone who has dined at Umphrey Lee knows Mrs. Almeta, the lady who scans our cards for access into the dining room. Do you ever take the time to look at the other workers’ name tags and find out who’s making that delicious omelette you enjoy every Tuesday and Thursday morning after your 8 o’clock class?
They are more than just the “blue collar” staff at SMU. Of course they care about their jobs, but they care about us too. Almeta has been here for decades. A person doesn’t just stay at a job for that long without loving it. There’s got to be something that keeps them coming back day after day. Getting up at the crack of dawn isn’t fun if you’re not a morning person.
Whether it’s your residence hall, classroom or among the general public, start paying attention to people and who they are, not what their job is. Take some pride and ownership of your annual $30,000+ education. Live by the words of the Queen of Soul, Ms. Aretha Franklin, and give some R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
