Human
Kindness Overflowing
Lonely,
lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.
Bright
before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And I think it's gonna rain today.
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And I think it's gonna rain today.
--Randy Newman
Some at
my University have recently been promoting activities around
"Kindness". I am not sure exactly what sort of Kindness they mean. I
almost fear investigating, only to find it's about 'being kind to ourselves' (because
nobody else will?) and other panaceas for quick fix armchair therapy. I could
be wrong about it, and maybe I should explore it, for the following reason.
I hope
that “Kindness” is about first how we treat each other in our own environments,
not just in some speculative and imagined external space and in interactions with
people we've never met ("Bright before me the signs implore me
..."). Yes, there are kind ways to go about that, but let's get back
to the crux of the problem, at least as I see it, anyway. Can we heal
ourselves?
Former Mary Seacole Research Centre, De Montfort University, Leicester |
When I
first came from America to England (now almost 20 years ago) I settled into my then
University's lovely former Bishop's property transformed into one of the
Schools. There were walkways through flowerbeds, past a former stable,
the mansion, and then a duck pond. Gardeners came often to keep it all in trim.
I remember remarking to another foreign import, a
Canadian Admin, "Why do the people walk around (and pass you) looking down
at the ground all the time?" I eventually realised this was so that they
wouldn't catch the eye of a stranger and have to interact, even just say to
'hello' or 'good morning!’ I found this quite depressing. Being the lone postgrad
student on the site, and having given up family and friends in America to come
to England to do a PhD, I was starved for human interaction of some sort. I
guess it was all just cultural shock, but maybe not. It certainly was
depressing.
I now
work in a faculty at another University where we are all very much isolated in
three or four different buildings and then on many different floors in each
building. It is quite easy never to cross paths with many colleagues, even
those with whom we work directly, unless we make an effort. For years, faculty
begged for what is called a 'common room' for the faculty, a place to meet up
by chance, converse, and have a cuppa. “Serendipity”, they wanted to call it. It
never happened. Vending machines were installed on a floor of one building
instead. We’ve tried using the coffee shops in the undergraduate buildings, but
they are usually packed with students (as they should be) and very noisy.
Finally, a commercial coffee shop opened near-by, and it seems to have become
the meeting place for faculty confabs now. It has made a major difference.
Nonetheless,
I guess I am still just a Yank after all. I still find it really depressing
when my colleagues cannot take the time to say hello or good-morning,
particularly when they work in close proximity to me or pass me at the copier.
I suppose that some think that they are just too busy (or too important) to
indulge in such nonsense as "Kindness”. You might say, “If I say hello
to everyone I pass, I will never get my job done”. Ah, yes. Your critical
role. But what about your supportive one?
The UK has imported several American cultural practices (the ‘away day’, open offices, even Hallowe’en), but perhaps it’s just beyond the pale to expect Brits to start expounding, "Have a nice day!".
Nonetheless, maybe we could start with just “Hello” and see what happens?
Human kindness is overflowing.
And I think it's gonna rain today.
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