By Kim Porter

Dear Neighbor,

I took a humanities class my freshman year in college.  It was a class of 200-plus students and we had taken our first test. The professor said the grades were on his office door. After class, many of us ran to his office and looked for our grade. But, there was a problem — no names were listed, just student numbers. And guess who didn’t know his number?

Before I set out to go across campus to my dorm room, I quickly glanced at the grades again. That wasn’t smart either — one third of the class had failed the test. This made me even more anxious to locate my grade. I returned as #58058 and found myself amongst those who passed — well, barely passed. Receiving a “C-” was not the highlight of my day.  

I continued through college as #58058. Never again was I Kim Porter. I had lost my name and become a number. And when I applied to graduate school, I was only a GPA number, and the school didn’t think I should attend — so I drove 5 hours, walked into the admissions office, closed the door, pleaded my case as a human being, not just a GPA. I walked out with a scholarship. I became a human being. Thank goodness I became a human being to him. That probably would not work in colleges today.

When I go to the gym, it is not my name that allows me to enter, but my number. And how many pin numbers do you have? Seek to challenge your utility bill without your number. Or have you forgotten your last four numbers of your social security number — if so, you don’t exist. And how many passwords do I have? I am not Kim Porter to the world I live in, and that must do something to my psyche.

My fear of dehumanization has greatly creeped into my world. I am not always a person to society. Isn’t it true that how I am treated motivates my ability to be human? Sometimes the world is just indifferent to me as a human. Wasn’t it George Bernard Shaw who said that the essence of inhumanity was “to be indifferent to others.” Indifference has made me a number.

How I treat others, meeting them where they are; listening, not to respond, but to understand; and being open to others as humans is a far greater talent than referring to them as numbers. Thus is another lesson I have learned as I grow older, and the world gets more dehumanized.

I do not like being dehumanized. This is #58058 signing off.

“Dear Neighbor” authors are united in a belief that civility and passion can coexist. We believe curiosity and conversation make us a better community.