They make our food, clean up after us and fix things when we break them–who, our parents? No, even parents don’t cater to us like that.
They are the workers at Saint Louis University who spoon potatoes in the cafeteria and mop the bathroom floors.
Sure, they’re paid to do it. But without their hard work, the campus would fall flat on its potentially messy, ugly face.
Hundreds of flower bulbs planted in rows, shoveled walkways, scores of eggs for breakfast.
It’s sometimes easy to ignore the preparation that goes on around us every day.
Twelve students stand in line for sandwiches at Fusz. One is murmuring calculations from the physics test she just finished, another two chatter about their dislike for turkey, while behind the counter three workers assemble sandwiches. The glass sneeze guard between them must prohibit conversation as well, as the students stare blankly over the workers’ shoulders.
Witty banter is not always required, but politeness is. In high school I worked as a salesclerk behind a busy cash register, and politeness from customers mattered, even when it was simply direct eye contact or a “you’re welcome.” The glazed stares of students fixated on the TVs that grow out of the ceiling at Fusz may often be matched by short responses from workers, but politeness is a two-way endeavor. Don’t expect it if you’re not dishing it out.
The smiling woman at the cash register emerges when I ask, “How’s your day?”
Not that I always pay attention. I too mutter to myself and fixate on tasks, often breezing by people like they are furniture. But the laborers at SLU work hard, doing tasks that the typical student might dread or refuse.
If I spent all morning scrubbing toilets, I’d appreciate a “hello” instead of a chilly glance from a busy student. Chatting with the workers at SLU can also give a different perspective to the sometimes homogeneous interactions students have every day: student to student, student to teacher, teacher to student. Most of the workers at SLU are friendly, and if they aren’t, maybe it’s because too many glazed-over students have wandered by them in a typical lunch hour.
