Senior computer engineering major
Every Monday and Wednesday at 10 a.m. while walking back from class, my roommate and I exchange an awkward “hello” with a mutual acquaintance. She’s the classic example of “that person” who you know through a friend, and feel like you should acknowledge when you pass by, but wouldn’t really have anything of substance to say to if you ended up stopping to chat.
My roommate and I are accustomed to the pattern of when and where we run into her — we notice her walking toward us from 100 yards away. It’s brutal. We have to pretend we don’t see her until we enter the 25-foot radius in which greeting somebody becomes socially acceptable. On top of that, we can’t even check for eye contact because she wears sunglasses that make it impossible to see where she’s looking.
Jeez, I hope she doesn’t read this. That’ll only make it worse.
I spend a lot of mental energy thinking about how to navigate situations like these and painfully reliving the botches I’ve made in the past. Most of this energy, I suspect, is completely wasted. I wonder whether hypersensitivity to social clumsiness might play an integral role in human interaction.
The feeling of awkwardness is connected fundamentally to either sympathy or a fear of vulnerability. In the case of sympathy, you might feel awkward because you’re concerned about hurting somebody else’s feelings. Maybe you got asked out on a date unexpectedly, or maybe you tasted someone’s terrible home cooking and you find yourself lying so you don’t have to be brutally honest.
As for fearing vulnerability, you feel awkward because you’re worried about what somebody will think about your actions. You might be trying to make a good first impression on someone you just met, or you might want to avoid looking bad in front of an authoritative figure. You fumble over your words because you’re convinced you have to say everything perfectly.
In both of these cases, it is clear awkward interaction is inefficient communication, leaving much to the interpretation of subtle cues and euphemisms. Also, it’s uncomfortable for everybody involved.
I find it interesting that people largely grow into experiencing this unpleasant feeling rather than grow out of it. Children are virtually immune to feeling awkward because they lack sufficient knowledge of “proper” social interaction to judge their experiences against. As adults, we often depend on alcohol to loosen up and feel as carefree as we did when we were young. We also find TV shows like The Office hilarious because of their cringe-worthy moments we can so easily relate to.
I think it would be very refreshing if, for one day, everyone decided to disregard the facade of civility and to act honestly and instinctually. This social experiment might turn people a little crazy, but we would learn how the people around us think. And as individuals, we could be free of judgment.
This sort of talk makes me want to surprise my acquaintance with a big hug when I see her Wednesday morning, just to mix things up a bit. But, of course, I’m not quite ready for that, and I don’t think our culture is either. Awkwardness is necessary because it bounds our interactions to a predictable, comprehensible and safe format.
Nevertheless, I make an effort occasionally to push the envelope. Life loses meaning when you’re caught up in pretending.
Kevin Hogan is a senior computer engineering major. He can be reached at khogandbk@gmail.com.