Paying Attention

Last night my professor took me to dinner for the third time this week. We met with other students and speakers who graduated from Harvard, experts in philosophy and economics. I did what I always do. I sat in the corner and ate lots of fries. I listened to the speakers talk over each other, and absorbed bits of wisdom that trickled slowly through my filter. The other students asked questions about Thomas Aquinas, matter, and socialism.

 After dinner, I went to a lecture by one of the speakers. I took notes for an article I will write for The Crescent. Unlike my classmates, I didn't ask questions during the Q&A. 

Although I feel connected on a cosmic level to philosophical and political issues, I do not know how to engage with the philosophers and politicians I have come across. So many of them have fallen into the ready trap of self-fulfillment. They are used to being told they are brilliant, or highly skilled, or even good. Yet, I cannot separate them from my peers, or the children I babysit. Even when these “greats” preach human equality, they see themselves on another plane of existence, graciously inviting me to join them for an evening or a weekend. Each time I am simultaneously grateful and disgusted. So many of them seem to love their work or the sound of their own voice so much that they stop paying attention.

I may one day become a philosopher, or (God forbid) a politician, but I can’t seem to care one way or the other. It seems much more important that I remember to pay attention.

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