Do cold temperatures breed cold people?

I turned to the opinion page today and had the fortune and misfortune to fall upon Danny Baram’s column, “Is it cold in here?” Initially, I felt a certain pleasure in reading Baram’s description of the frigid personalities roaming Boston University’s campus. I derive no thrill in the unsettling fact that this school boasts about as many welcoming faces as a high security prison. My momentary satisfaction arose only because for the first time in three years I read in print the feelings I have harbored for my entire college career. Unfortunately, sadness quickly overtook my contentment. Before reading the column, I held onto the slight chance that my view of this university was arrantly skewed. Perhaps, my eyes were misjudging the bitter stares, the aloof expressions, and the outright snarls of passersby. Perhaps, I had no reason to fear a scowl in return for smiling at the person sitting next to me on the T. Perhaps, I even imagined the way two acquaintances from class ignored my prescence when I showed up at Star Market wearing sweats and a hooded sweatshirt instead of form-fitting armani pants. After reading Baram’s article, however, I’m convinced my depressing observations reflect reality. Since the day I came to this University, I’ve been bogged down by the negative energy that circulates through campus like a never ending plague. As an Ohio native, I knew I’d encounter a different type of character on the East Coast. I never, however, expected to find the kind of petty coldheartedness that defines individuals with the self-assurance of an abused dog. Not surprisingly, the most callous individuals usually come in pairs or trios, hiding behind their arctic wall of black sunglasses and ever-ringing cell phones–each one undistinguishable from the others. These malicious sets act together as a team, feeding off the same brain and manifesting the same icy personality. They sneer, snicker, and snarl together because strength in numbers always wins. To desert the pack means to be the leered at instead of the leerer. Even in this icelandic setting, however, I have managed to find warm spots. It’s unfair to ignore the fact that at Boston University, I have met some of the most genuinely tenderhearted people of my life. Not everyone hear emits a chill cold enough to freeze the sun. In fact, a select number of individuals have so overwhelmed me with their compassion for others that I have felt like the Grinch in comparison. Luckily, a small amount of kindness has amazing strength. When I come home each night after a day of scoffs and scowls, the smile of one friend is enough to restore my faith in humanity. Hopefully, one day all those hard faced strangers I encounter every day will find something to smile about as well. Oh, and Danny Baram. Written by: Megan Weber COM 02 Phone: 356-5252