How to be an Object of Pity
Hint: Grow a gray beard and present folding-money
Twice now young women have bought me coffee at the coffee shop on the campus where I teach. Just standing in line like everyone else—minding my own business—I pull out my $2 (cash-money) and the young woman in line behind me says, “Just put it on my card.”
I resist: “No! I wouldn’t hear of it,” I say. “You can’t. You must look after yourself with that—or at least spend it on your friends.”
I went on in that vein, until the cashier reached past my $2 (cash-money) for the woman’s card.
“She’s not going to spend it all anyway,” said the cashier, repeating what the woman said.
So. Free coffee. Thanks profusely offered.
Yesterday: same thing. I pull out my $2 (cash-money) and the young woman behind me says, “Just put it on my card.”
I resisted. This time with less velocity. Free coffee. Thanks profusely offered.
I’ve puzzled over this phenomenon. What I know for certain is that the students here are some of the kindest people you’d ever hope to meet. And earnest. Looking around I also see that I have landed from the planet “old guy.” Though I know even recent grads feel that way when revisiting their alma mater. Still, it’s been a long time since I was an undergrad.
But I think it’s the folding money that triggers the pity. What kind of a person uses cash-money on campus? Clearly someone in need and, frankly a bit out-of-touch. We all use cards.
You must not be from around here.
“Let me help you.”
The other day a student reflected on her community-building work in our social media marketing class:
“It’s also important to create a presence that encourages interaction,” she said.
I can’t get her comment out of my mind, partly because of getting two free coffees and partly because of the riddle of how to write in a slightly-unfinished, slightly-needy way. 
Like how Columbo conducted investigations: you pity the unkempt, needy fellow until you realize he is canny like a fox.
I’ve long puzzled over the magnetism of a dumb sketch. Stepping up to the white board and drawing something badly as a way of explaining an idea is a sure-fire way to invite others in. And they step up—not to correct, just to collaborate.
Because it’s sorta fun to draw badly and without the pressure to create art. And it can be fun to think together. And, like presenting folding-money in debit card economy, you clearly need help.
What are you willing to leave unfinished to draw others in?
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Image credit: Kirk Livingston, The-Toast.Net
Cool post. Your thoughts hit on many different levels.
Kris
Kris Livingston
February 5, 2016 at 10:31 am
Thanks, Kris. If you drank coffee, I’d buy you one.
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 10:50 am
What an interesting phenomenon. It’s never happened to me in my off campus world, even though I have grey hair and sometimes attempt to read things without glasses! Do keep us posted – you may never buy coffee again.
Michael Richards (certainline)
February 5, 2016 at 11:16 am
I’ll keep you posted, Michael. By the way, I enjoyed your illustrations in your book (Inside Conducting). But as non-musical person, the text was far beyond me. Nice work!
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 12:22 pm
Thanks, Kirk. I’m pleased you enjoyed the book, somewhat! The stories at the beginning and end of each chapter are fun too, I thought.
Michael Richards (certainline)
February 5, 2016 at 3:01 pm
Great post! Has got me thinking 🙂
wisewoodpidgeon
February 5, 2016 at 1:42 pm
Terrific! Thanks for your response.
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 2:18 pm
very thought provoking dear Kirk……… I’ll be thinking on this one. 🙂 and I loved the dumb sketches LOL!
Jodi
February 5, 2016 at 6:32 pm
Thanks, Jodi. I appreciate your encouragement.
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 8:34 pm
What a kind environment within which to work, my sketching pal. Sounds mahvelous! I hope you’re having fun. We miss you. Love this sketch – it looks familiar! 🙂
Laura (Createarteveryday)
February 5, 2016 at 7:25 pm
It is cool, that’s sure. I miss sketching and I have a bunch of ideas lined up, but I need to find 1.5 hours for grading every evening, otherwise I fall behind. Sadly, I need to put off sketching. when I come back I want to try some wet on wet stuff, like those mountains you used to do. Thanks for the comment.
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 8:33 pm
Looking forward to it, Kirk!
Laura (Createarteveryday)
February 5, 2016 at 9:11 pm
Well, people have suddenly started offering me seats on the subway…so I know I must look really old and tired. I have mixed feelings about this. But I’m grateful for the seat.
It’s amazing to me what a little bit of kindness can do to improve your mood too.
That’s a good place to teach.
(K)
memadtwo
February 5, 2016 at 9:13 pm
Thanks, Kerfe. That is the way of things, right?
kirkistan
February 5, 2016 at 10:57 pm
Sadly, yes.
memadtwo
February 6, 2016 at 5:47 am
What lovely students! Small acts of kindness mean so much.
Love that whimsical sketch, Kirk. 🙂
Sharon
February 5, 2016 at 11:24 pm
That sketch reminds me of a restaurant in the south of France built over a waterfall.
memadtwo
February 6, 2016 at 12:46 pm
I just wonder to if a coffee shop doesn’t seem like a small community and therefore you would be more likely to show concern for someone there?
Photography Journal Blog
February 7, 2016 at 7:36 am
Possibly! I suppose the entire smallish campus might fit that category as well. Thanks for the comment!
kirkistan
February 7, 2016 at 8:56 am
Why do you assume they pity you? Maybe they found you attractive and were hitting on you.
Sister
February 9, 2016 at 10:11 am
Thanks, Sister. I suppose that is a possibility: nothing says “hunk” like a fat old guy with a gray beard. Let me rethink this.
kirkistan
February 9, 2016 at 10:33 am
Wear coat and tie. Do not forget pants and shoes. If the clothes are clean, they will not buy you coffee. Besides, Millennial undergraduates drink those foo-foo drinks, not coffee. Good luck from Planet Old Guy.
Joe Essid
March 10, 2016 at 7:43 am