In the midst of a pitch-black night, illuminated only by the neon lights of club signs and car headlights, an individual lay unconscious on the ground, covered in vomit.
The bystander effect, as defined, relates to the influence of others’ presence on an individual’s willingness to assist someone in need. It essentially involves the belief that someone else will take action, that someone else will save them.
The following morning, the antiseptic scent and similar neon lighting of hospital corridors eroded my last vestige of faith in humanity. What’s more chilling than any ghost or vampire? The transactional nature of each of our actions. This is why those consistently placed on pedestals, resembling Greek gods carved in porcelain, are the ones receiving help. Meanwhile, those in dire need are left holding their meager, unwanted gifts for those who deemed them insufficient to warrant their precious aid.
I spent my Halloween weekend helping others. Seated in a circle, pouring my heart out to my roommates, I questioned, “Why am I always the one doing the rescuing? When is it my turn to be saved?” In that moment, I needed the stern love that was offered. My roommate gripped my hand and asked, “Are you ready to be happy?”
In the last twenty-three days alone, more than 8,000 Palestinians have lost their lives in the Israel-Gaza War. For the past twenty-three days, I’ve mostly remained silent. I’ve been horrified by videos of bombs dropping, lifeless bodies being removed from buildings, and the torment of hostages. I’ve encountered narratives upholding Western ideals and those that seek to reveal the less visible stories of grieving families. I’ve helplessly sought ways to provide support and witnessed others pouring their hearts into helping those in situations that barely affect them. Eventually, I realized that there is a considerable amount of negativity in the world. I’ve come to accept that war, famine, and genocide surround us, but maybe there’s just enough positivity as well.
On Friday night, I sat in an Uber, holding a girl who needed saving. On Saturday morning, I entered the hospital to pick up a friend who needed saving. Later, I consoled a distressed voice in tears over the phone that needed saving. I have no regrets.
Am I ready to embrace happiness? Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s challenging to answer “yes” to a question I’d rather just scream “no” to. Nevertheless, at some point, I must be prepared. Happiness is a choice; safety isn’t. While there are moments when all I yearn for is a warm hug from my mother and another episode of our favorite TV show, I know that’s never too far away. Each night, I return home to three mentors who offer guidance and wipe away my tears. I have a friend in California who answers my 3 AM calls. I belong to a group of politically engaged students who open my eyes to the triviality of my own concerns and the privilege I have to be someone else’s hero.
As it turns out, I don’t require saving in the manner I once believed. I’m fortunate to be the savior. Rather than seeking those who wouldn’t notice if your eyes dimmed slightly or who wouldn’t care to ask if you’re okay, look to individuals whose eyes reflect their humanity. I assure you, it’s there. I observe the girl who stands outside for hours in a small town, holding a homemade sign to protest the horrors occurring on the other side of the world. I admire the boy who leaves his friends behind to ensure a stranger gets home safely. I appreciate the people who remind me that life isn’t about waiting for someone to hear and validate your story. The real purpose is to use what you’ve learned to make a difference. Whisper your knowledge in the ear of those who need it most, and when they wake up tomorrow, they may only recall the sensation of warm hands guiding them home. For now, that’s enough to remind them that they’re allowed to break amidst a sea of porcelain statues; someone will be there to rebuild them from the ground up until they’re strong enough to rebuild others.
Happy Halloween
“I cannot do all the good that the world needs. But the world needs all the good that I can do” -Jana Stanfield
RESOURCES:
chocolate and politics 