I had wanted to write about politics this week — lately it’s so prevalent, how can one avoid it? It has saturated my life in the classroom, in social settings and on a personal level. Everything that is coming out of the White House as of late has been, frankly, newsworthy.
Though, to me, something even more newsworthy happened this week — even though, on the grand scale of our “global problem,” you might not really consider it to be.
For my Photojournalism class at Champlain College, I was tasked to take pictures of eight complete strangers. I just had to go up to them, get their name, where they’re from and then take three photos of them in an environment that reflected their personality.
This was one of the hardest assignments I have ever had.
Garnering the courage to go up to a singular stranger is one thing, but to go up to eight strangers and speak to them about their lives? It sounded nearly impossible. When I was first assigned the project, I almost choked on the water I was drinking. I knew — or, at least, I thought — I didn’t have the courage.
Though, with help from some of my friends, I finally went out with my camera and a notepad to interact with strangers.
The first man I talked to had a singular tuft of purple hair on the center of his head, a pair of glasses that looked like they had come out of the eighties and an in-your-face checker board scarf. His name was Linus Owens, a professor at Middlebury College, and he happened to be in the same cafe my friend Margot and I were enjoying some hot chocolate at. He was talking to a friend of his on how to save the world, and asked me my opinion about how I would do it. I told him I wouldn’t try and save every aspect of the world, but I would just focus on one (providing a form of K-12 education to everyone) and hope someone else will focus on another aspect. After he asked if he could quote me on that, I took his picture, and he said he would one day buy my future novel.
The next man I spoke to was named Cornelius Driscoll the Third. My friends and I stopped him on the street after the beat up pair of shoes in his hand caught our eyes. He was in his early twenties, from San Francisco, and had just bought a new pair of leather shoes after his old pair had been worn for a few weeks too long. He was here visiting friends, and said that even though his friends lived thousands of miles away, “It’s always important to stay in touch with your friends. Always.”
In a coffee shop, my friends and I spotted an older couple surrounded by young adults, teens and children. They were the only two people in the entire shop not on a laptop or a phone. Beth and Jerry were just enjoying their coffee, looking out the window and occasionally speaking to one another. They told us to always remember to make time for the ones you love, and to remember to interact face to face once and awhile.
The tattoo covered barista at Muddy Waters and the cashiers at the local bazaar, Old Gold, looked like they just stepped out of the 50s — well, they laughed so much their positivity permeated my friends and I. We couldn’t help but remember to smile, even when we were most nervous. 
It seemed like everyone I had encountered had something to teach my friends and I — some experience to give us. On any other day, I would have never spoken to these people, and I would have never gleaned the lessons they had to give. My life would have never been bettered by their stories if I had never stopped to listen to them.
I know it’s cliche, but my point is to step out of your comfort zone. Maybe you don’t have to talk to strangers like I did, but try new things. Try making a new friend, picking up a new hobby or just eating that new food you have been eyeing for weeks. You never know what will happen when you move outside of your routine. You could just learn something new.
