Remaining Human

The day I took my last final exam of my college career as an English major, I walked out of the building and, perhaps because I had just freed up some space in my brain with no assignments or deadlines, I read the sign outside—School of Humanities—and, for the first time, asked myself, “What is that?”

Humanities is a word we don’t often hear outside of an academic context. So I wondered, “What is it? Why are language and literature and history all grouped under this category?” In a sense, I was wondering, “What did I just spend the last four years doing, and what for?”

The question English majors most often get is, “What are you going to do with that?” which is a fundamentally different question from, “What is it that you’re doing?” One is pragmatic. One is philosophical. Both are important, but the latter has always interested me much, much more.

Four years of reading, writing, discussing stories, reciting poetry penned centuries ago by…people. Humans.

Four years of exploring the experience of pain, joy, humor, love, hatred, forgiveness, redemption. The “certain slant of light.” The noticing. The human experience.

In an instant, standing outside the building where I had been formed in being human, a dialogue flashed through my mind, and I discovered something that I am still meditating on today—something that is even more relevant now than it was in 2015.

“Humanities? Being human? Shouldn’t that be the one thing everybody already knows how to do? Why would you need to go to college for that?” This was the same voice that would constantly ask, “But you already speak English. Why are you going to school for it?”

“Anyway, who’s going to pay you for being human? Why does all of this you’ve done even matter?”

Even as the words ran through my mind, I knew something was changing. I had seen the way smartphones and social media had affected the way my peers and I walked through our days, and I wondered what it would have been like to be living this college experience 10 or 20 years prior.

I didn’t think twice about the idea of artificial intelligence then, but I still had a strong feeling that, as time went on and technology progressed, we would all need more and more help in remembering what it is to be human.

Now, I look around and see just how true it is. And I don’t need to look far. I see my own addiction to the infinite scroll. I see how much time I spend consuming rather than creating. I see how unnatural it feels at times to even make eye contact with a stranger, much less approach them with a word of welcome and a compassionate curiosity.

And yet, I still know in my bones the need to remember how to be human.

It’s not just a need of our culture in a generic sense. It’s powerful on an individual level too.

And what is the crux of our humanity if not connection?

A few years ago, I read a book called The Neuroscience of Human Relationships, which explains how these human-to-human connections have the power to literally rewire our brains and bring wholeness and healing.

That’s why it’s such an honor to have this collection represented at Nexus Coffee & Creative as their 2026 Artist in Residence. Nexus is a coffee shop, but it’s also much more than that. It’s a place to be present, to connect, and to remember that you are part of something bigger than yourself.

Thank you for being part of this community. Thank you for being present. Thank you for being you, in all your messiness and imperfection.

I encourage you to take one little step of personal connection today. You don’t know how healing it might be. Keep stepping out in brave vulnerability, and continue clinging to that which makes us so beautifully human.