Common Courtesy

The bias towards Brigham Young University has been something cherished and upheld. There are the positive and negative accusations, naturally, as at any other university. A young girl from little ol' Emmett, Idaho comes to Utah and expects the primary songs to be hummed as students walked form class to class. Contrary to the bias this young girl had formed, depicting mutual-like class settings and CTR rings on every finger, she found a small disappointment amongst all the fame she grants her fellow class men. True, the matter is small, and as such it was expected to be one's slightest thought. Contrary,at each saunter down the stairs and speed-walk to class I find myself stressing to know if the seat in which I must preside will be in the middle. New at college, and the woes of aisles strewn with backpacks, laptops, big feet, and fragile feminine toes are the freshmen's worst worry.

The small infraction of the Brigham Young University students is indeed the fickle matter of sitting on the edges of rows. Viewing the temptation, one can imagine; coming to class, having walked so far, backpack pulling on shoulders, and the nearest seat is spotted. Plop! Understandable, I have had the moments of exhaustion and defeat. Or perhaps a row-sitter is shy. A viable point, until of course the class fills up, and you are surrounded by people anyway. Only this people had to tip-toe climb, scale, and shimmy across your blushing face as their heretical hind side is in your face. Another explanation brought to mind is the fact that end seats are for left-handed writers. Again a plausible point, I cannot argue, only question just how many left-handers attend Brigham Young University?

Whatever the explanation, this is not meant to condemn, only to address. The University we are all so privileged to attend is founded on principles of love and compassion. Given this outstanding reputation all of who attend are bound to, could a small act of compassion be granted? There will be instances in the future when you can lighten someone's load, even just by giving up a prized seat. And that is a lesson carried far beyond the classroom.