“No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.” — Antoine de Saint Exupery

It’s a sunny and cloudless day in Ithaca, and I’m sitting amidst a crowd of students gathered in the Arts Quad. The usual cold and unwelcoming atmosphere of Cornell melted away with the rest of winter, as spring timidly approaches us. People are laughing, smiling and absorbing all the warmth that the day brings them. Colored balloons float into the air, weaving their way around the Frisbees and footballs being passed between friends. Despite the recent tragedies that have occurred, the rest of us continue with the ebbs and flow of life — with more vigor and spirit than ever.

 “Cornell should do this more often,” a girl passing by me said, taking a bite out of a swirl of blue cotton candy. “Not just when something bad happens …”

 When you usually look through my columns, I’m criticizing something or other about the social culture of Cornell. Whether it is about the lack of diversity among Asian groups or the intense neuroticism of students on campus, I always express a great amount of frustration with the Cornell campus. But I am not writing all of this because I feel like whining and complaining and hoping someone will pick up The Sun to read it. It is actually far from that. Rather, I want to make sure everyone understands the general point I try to bring out in every column — it is that we are all in this together. It doesn’t matter what it says on your transcript, which fraternity or sorority you belong to or what race you are. You are an individual who is worth more than any label can place. It frustrates me because the Cornell community, at times, acts like anything but a community. We insist on alienating others based on all of these labels that only capture who we are on the surface. Again, when it comes down to it, we are all in the same boat. We are all in this together. We are all humans who have the basic need to belong. But we ultimately need each other to really belong. That is what a community really is — a group of people who look out for each other, despite the differences.

Whenever you come to a hard time in your life, ask yourself: What really matters in the end? When you think back on the entirety of your life, what do you remember the most?  Is it the he-said-she-said high school drama? Is it all those nights blurred with drunken debauchery? Or is it all those times you laughed until you couldn’t breathe with your friends? The heartache you felt when you lost the one you loved? Or all the moments that made you believe you could conquer the world?  In the same way, how do you want to be remembered? By an ill conceived stereotype? By your GPA? As a number? Or by the way you smiled? Or as the person who could leave an imprint in others just by being yourself?

I’m really happy that Cornell is becoming a caring community and reaching out to those in need. But I really hope Cornell will continue to do so, even when the wounds have healed. I hope that we will look at this scar and remember what it means to be a friend, even if it is to a complete stranger. I really hope all of you recognize the amount of your worth, as well as the worth of those around you. Everyone deserves a chance to see how beautiful life can be, even when there is pain.

 One of my best friends always tells me, “If it’s not okay in the end, it’s not the end.”

My heart goes out to the friends and families who have been affected by these tragedies. And my prayers are always with you.

Sandie Cheng is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences. She may be reached at scheng@cornellsun.com. That One, Please appears alternate Fridays this semester.