scenes from stern, nov. 13, 2002

In a small, enclosed area, six students sit together on love seats and ignore each other’s presence. Discarded snack bags are laying on the table next to the leftovers from someone’s dinner. The smell of mustard permeates the air. The students in the room are standing or sitting quietly. All that can be heard is the occasional sound of gum chewing, someone sipping water, and soda machines rumbling. Above all these, however, blares the television, which has so enraptured the students. Security and other students pass through the room, mostly silent, other than one interchange – a girl walks and greets her friend quickly, “Hey, how are you?” and leaves before getting a response. There is no verbal communication between the six whatsoever, yet there is still something that connects all of these students to each other. The silence stretches, long and grave. There is a heaviness of emotion that is felt in their silence, a reaction to the show they are watching. It’s as if an agreement was reached non-verbally that they all will sit as a group and feel it together. Suddenly there is a hum of action, the mood is broken, and a student leaves. A commercial has come on, and the six students separate once again into individuals and move on. 

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The cafeteria is brightly lit, yet still claustrophobia inducing. It smells of greasy food. Conversation bounces off of the walls and pillars. Joyce sits at a register, greeting the people who approach her to check out with their food. The students come near with their food in hand, set it down, and say just enough to pay for their dinner. “Chicken”, or “French fries”, is all that they’ll share. Joyce enters the amounts into the register as she says, “Hey, how are you? How are your midterms treating you?” Most of the students don’t respond to her. Two students, Carla and Tzipa, stop to chat for a moment, but most of the girls only speak to each other. Joyce starts talking to Esther, who works at the other register, and the two of them strike up a conversation until the phone rings. Joyce has to answer it. “I get to work the parties,” Joyce says, “I get to cater.” The students keep moving by her silently, never noticing that she is more than an extension of a machine. “I try to talk to everybody,” she says. “I want to know how they are, and make sure that life isn't over-whelming them.”