With the school year coming to an end, and an awfully full schedule, the last place I wanted to be is on an overbooked plane sitting in an aisle seat with no legroom. Yet, that’s exactly where I found myself a few weeks ago when flying home to Pennsylvania. I put my headphones on, and as soon as I did, an older woman sat right next to me. As I helped her put her purse under the seat, she introduced herself as Joy, and that name couldn’t have been more fitting. Joy and I talked for an entire hour and a half flight, uninterrupted. She told me about her life, how she was born in Jamaica, started playing steel pan at the age of seven and has lived in six countries, making friends in each one. She loves opera and keeps her life organized in a planner, which she proudly showed me. She insisted I always write down birthdays because of how important they are. She told me of her late husband, reminding me to cherish the people in your life while you can. Once we landed, Joy and I said our goodbyes, which was very difficult considering how close we had grown over the last hour and 30 minutes. While walking to the baggage claim, a younger passenger who had sat behind me on the plane said something like, “that lady next to you was really talkative, wasn’t that kind of annoying?” I was not offended, but surprised. That flight had been one of the most unexpectedly meaningful parts of my week, but to someone else, it was apparently just noise. That moment made me realize how many people have started treating casual conversation and unexpected connections as a burden.
In a world that is obsessed with being unbothered and nonchalant, we are slowly losing the irreplaceable human connection. We are in an age of avoidance and it’s prevalent all around us. Many of the younger generation would rather choose to stand in the self-checkout lane, not because it’s faster, but to avoid an interaction with the cashier. Delivery apps let us order food without even opening the front door. AI ensures that we don’t even have to attend a single office hour to answer in-depth questions. No eye contact. No small talk. No interaction. Even if someone is forced to be in a public space, headphones are worn to ward off any stray “hello” or casual comments. Conversation is treated as a risk and something to be avoided if possible. This new nonchalant culture has framed being friendly as something that is cringe.
Embarrassment is used as a barrier. There is this unspoken rule emerging that says speaking to a stranger is supposed to be awkward and strictly transactional. A lot of this has to do with fear of perception. Especially in the age of social media, it’s easier to keep your head down and doomscroll than to look up and risk being judged. Platforms like TikTok often romanticize detachment, even glorifying being silently mean. Therefore, it’s no surprise that real face-to-face conversation feels uncomfortable for many. Yet, the minute we pivot and look at embarrassment as a gift rather than a punishment, connection is something to be desired not feared. If you are embarrassed of all of what the world can offer you, then you are living a life that lacks meaning, and I think that is the most embarrassing thing you could possibly do.
Humans are inherently social creatures. We need each other to flourish emotionally, mentally and even physically. Yet, somewhere along the way, connection has become something transactional. We’ve adopted this quiet ideology: “If you don’t have something to offer me, I have no reason to talk to you”. On the other hand, Joy reminded me that conversation itself is an offering. So is presence and so is listening.
Joy taught me that life isn’t about flying under the radar. It’s not checking your eyebrows every minute to make sure they’re in place. It’s not worrying if you’re laughing too loud. And it’s certainly not about avoiding what she called “the good stuff”, the stories, the laughs and the conversations that make life feel full. She spoke like someone who knows how to be human; someone who still believes that others are worth connecting with, even if it is just for an hour and a half on a crowded flight. I wrote this article not just to tell you about that moment, but to share the lesson Joy gave me. In a world that constantly promotes the convenience of avoidance, I wanted to remind you and myself, that connection still matters. That reaching out, even when it feels awkward, is part of what makes life meaningful. Sometimes, all it takes is a conversation to bring us back to ourselves. Thanks to a little card with her email she gave me, Joy and I can keep in touch.