There is a slight statured, East Asian young man who works at the law school library and who opens the door for me when it is his shift to work.
He is mahogany skinned, has a head full of dark, thick hair and has doleful brown eyes.
He takes his work of roaming the three floors and counting studying law students quiet seriously. As he does manning the front desk and answering questions.
The other day he was working with one other person, spotted me standing outside the automatic door (which has a button I cannot reach) and made haste coming to open the door for me.
I nodded my thanks and made my way to the front desk to ask the other person if the elevator was back in service (I had a feeling it was because I saw the elevator technicians arrive the day before but I wanted to make sure). The older law librarian advised me regretfully that it had not been fixed.
The otherwise quiet and reserved young man piped up to inform us both that indeed, it was back in service. And he proceeded to walk me to the elevator to ensure that I boarded safely.
On our way there, I casually asked his name…
“Abdul.”
He did not spare or dumb down his pronunciation for my American-ness. He seemed to fully expect that I would butcher his name anyway.
I repeated it a few times, getting my tongue used to the unfamiliar way that it needs to curl up gutturally towards the back of my throat and how the tip needs to touch the front center roof of my mouth, right behind my teeth on the finishing “L” with a final small exhale after the “L” without making it sound like an “ah”.
Abdul.
In the moments that we waited for the elevator to arrive, I learned that Abdul is an engineering student.
My response of:
“Yeah?! That’s what’s up!”, surprised him a little.
He nodded sheepishly, made sure I got into the elevator carriage when it arrived, pressed my floor and sent me on my way.
The next day, I again arrived to the library, stopped at the front desk to say hello to Chris, one of the main law librarians, and I immediately turned and specifically said hello to Abdul.
He nodded his head with purpose at the correct pronunciation of his name and it seemed as if his entire face smiled at me.
This took me aback. I had never seen Abdul smile these weeks that I’ve been toiling in and out of this library. It felt good giving him some small… recognition? validation? moment to have been seen?
In that moment, for the first time in a long time, I felt seen too. His smile recognized that I did something that made someone else’s moment.
It was great.
It’s the small moments these days guys, just the small stuff.