To Life, Sincerely Clara: An Open Letter to the Dining Hall Workers

Dear dining hall workers,

I’m a freshman -- I’ve been at Tufts for exactly 15 days. I’m almost completely certain that you have no idea who I am. But nevertheless, I’ve decided that I already owe you a thank you. As a semi-socially awkward and overall introverted person, the dining hall isn’t necessarily my favorite place. Plus, after being thrown headfirst into this college life of homework, getting lost, making friends and figuring out some semblance of a schedule, I’m often headed into Carm or Dewick with my head already spinning.

But you are my breath of fresh air. In the midst of my spiraling stress, excitement, panic and exhaustion, you remind me to get outside of my own head. Every time I go into the dining hall, I make eye contact, say hello and ask you how you’re doing. You swipe my card and answer -- sometimes you even call me honey.

And that’s all I need. After walking by hordes of college-aged strangers with my eyes to the ground, actually having someone meet my gaze is a grounding force. It reminds me that in this moment, I am here, in this dining hall, and you are there, acknowledging my presence. It snaps me out of a world of thinking and worrying and figuring out, and into one of here and now.

I am a person who likes routine, and the reliable comfort of having someone to look at and say hi to means more than you might think. No matter what’s going on in the world or my life, I can take root in the fact that you will be there to smile and ask me how I’m doing.

I also need to thank you for being so kind. You say excuse me even when I’m the one in the way, and on more than one occasion I’ve watched you make an extra effort just to make sure a student has the food they were looking for. Every day, at every meal, that inspires me.

I’m sure that you hate your job sometimes—that by the end of some shifts you’re worn out, cranky and in need of some serious quiet. On those days, I hope you’ll be able to be honest when I ask you how you are and admit that it’s been a long day. I get that you aren’t niceness-superheroes. But you don’t have to be, you just have to be there.

Life is crazy. Sometimes it gets me carried away with dreams, plans and an obsession with how wonderful our world is. Other days it traps me in pits of procrastination and pessimism. But it’s the little things that keep me sane, let me zoom out from my own perspective and see that, miraculously, the rest of the world is still there, and in fact is utterly oblivious to my internal goings-on. For the past 15 days, you have been one of those little things. Thank you for swiping my card, for meeting my eyes, for saying hello. Thank you for calling me honey, going out of your way to smile and never getting frustrated while I fumble around in my pockets in search of my ID. Please know that these things, and everything else you do, are truly great. They’re not just important to me—they’re important in making the world a place where people smile, and are decent to each other, and know how to be kind. So thank you for the last 15 days, and thank you in advance for the four years to come. I’ll see you at the next meal.

Sincerely,

Clara Wagner