In 2015, three 25-year-old Americans, Spencer Stone, Anthony Sadler, and Alek Skarlatos, were on holiday in Europe in a Paris-bound train, when an armed passenger shot one passenger and started to try to shoot the rest. Stone, Sadler, and Skarlatos would take down the attacker and use first aid to save the life of the bleeding passenger. In 2018, Clint Eastwood made a movie about these three American heroes.

Of the movie, Sadler said this: "We hope it shows three ordinary guys and that people can identify with us...and know that they're capable of the extraordinary as well."

The other day, I facetiously proposed some of my peers on my school newspaper to write an article about someone I knew who was important in students' lives. I received a response asking what was special about this person, and I then asked the subject what was special about him. He said:

"Nothing. I'm just an ordinary person, but you should write more about ordinary people."

For the past few days, I have pondered and wrestled with our seeming lack of emphasis on the ordinary people on our campus. Normally, we focus and celebrate "special" people, students and professors who have won prestigious awards or garnered glittery accomplishments. And while this article doesn't take away from the accomplishments of people who have done something special, aren't they already being celebrated on their own? Aren't they already being rewarded?

I will admit that my values are constantly at odds with bourgeois attitudes and mindsets that come at an elite private institution like Emory. When I'm asked about the people who have made the greatest mark on myself and my character in my time at Emory, it is not the famous or flashy professors or powerful alumni whose names occupy the front pages of newspapers and publications.

It is instead the ordinary people I have encountered on a daily basis on Emory's campus who spread kindness and love regardless of circumstance, the ones who rarely do come into the public spotlight. Some of the most empathetic people at Emory tend to be the ordinary people we encounter on a daily basis, who do extraordinary things to brighten our days that I know I don't take the time to appreciate enough.

Ordinary people do extraordinary things, all the time at Emory. And we should take time to celebrate that. I've written about a custodian that coaches an AAU basketball team and helps high school kids in the community acquire scholarships. I've written about a pizza place manager who works to support his family.

The ordinary people like custodians, service workers, and receptionists, who don't seem accomplished or famous, the people make our lives a little more bearable every day are the truly extraordinary people on Emory's campus. While they may not be the face of admissions pamphlets handed out to prospective students, they deserve to have their stories told more often. They deserve to be celebrated, and I hope that my daily interactions with them and work that I do helps them feel celebrated.

And let us not forget that we, too are all just ordinary people, as well. Psychoanalyst, John Steiner, has frequently said that "the work of psychoanalysis is the relinquishment of omnipotence." Psychology aims to help us embrace the fact that we aren't perfect and extremely human. Faith aims to teach us that we're not perfect and we're not meant to be God. Only God is meant to be God. We ourselves should probably relinquish our pursuit of extraordinary lives because that, according to psychologist Jennifer Kunst, is the key to the good life. "When we see ourselves more realistically, we have a better chance of doing what we can do. You don't win a gold medal when you are trying to win a gold medal." Perfectionism gives us a "comforting illusion of control," one that undermines our ability to find meaning and focus on what actually matters.

In the Old Testament book of Exodus, Moses was reluctant to be God's messenger and pleaded God for his brother, Aaron to be the hero. But Aaron became a prophet for Moses. Moses, however, becomes the legendary figure that leads the Jews out of Egypt, and we should take heed of the example of Moses, that heroes are often derived from ordinary, reluctant heroes. Moses finds "something unexpected and extraordinary: a more capable and courageous vision of himself, a sense of purpose, and the satisfaction of helping others."

Ordinary people who become heroes put down their weapons and relinquish their need to have complete control. "They face defeat. They wipe their tears, fall asleep, and have a dream," and the biggest thing about us ordinary people who become heroes is that we "embrace life as it is, and, in so doing, find a way to transform it and make it better. Not perfect. Just better."

That's the best we can do - and let us not lie to ourselves. Making the world a better place, like Stone, Sadler, and Skarlatos did, is very extraordinary.