We are tied together by the small, embarrassing things

When we were younger, our parents and teachers taught us about differences. Everyone is special because everyone is different. No two snowflakes are the same. Variety is the spice of life.

They taught us to respect and embrace each other's differences. They showed us different activities, and we learned about different subjects. We discussed the differences between nationalities, genders and religions.

Now, in the midst of one of the most significant elections of our lifetime, the focus is again on differences.

Kerry, Bush and their respective supporters promote their differences, and political pundits spin them ad nauseam. There was even a fight between two people who disagreed over how Jesus would vote.

I'd like to think that if Jesus returned, he would save us from eternal damnation, and an election would be a little unnecessary.

While differences are great - no, necessary - we don't seem to pay enough attention or to give enough credit to our similarities.

There is a plethora of meaningful experiences that connect us, but in our rush to different classes and different parties with different people, we never recognize or appreciate them. If our lives were books, these experiences would be the details - the truest representations of our humanity.

I'm not referring to obvious macro-examples like attending the same school or being able to drive. I mean the intimate minutiae of our daily lives, the seemingly insignificant and sometimes embarrassing experiences that we have all had but rarely discuss. They connect us all with a silent bond.

Have you ever passed someone on campus and they asked, "What's up?" and you responded, "Fine"? Or you said, "How's it going" and they said, "Nothing"?

Have you ever walked into a screen door? A glass door? A sliding glass door because you expected it to open and it didn't? Probably. Almost everyone I know has done so at some point in their lives, regardless of intellect.

Have you ever set your alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. - or instead of setting the alarm, you changed the time?

Have you ever eaten with someone who is using a tremendous amount of "s" and "p" words, and they spit a small, half-chewed piece of food on your face - or worse, on your food? Have you spit food on someone else's face and debated whether or not to draw attention to it by admitting it?

Have you ever been sitting in class or somewhere on campus and pulled a dryer sheet off of your clothing? Have you tried to open a dresser drawer and pulled the entire drawer out of the dresser?

These things happen to conservatives and liberals, Protestants and Muslims and people who think Ray Romano is too bland and those who enjoy his deadpan humor.

How awkward is it when you're in class and you sneeze a wad of phlegm into your hand, but you don't have a tissue? Do you suck it back, like me? Do you wipe it in your pocket?

Have you ever examined your appearance in what seemed to be a mirrored surface, only to realize that it was just heavily tinted and that there were people on the other side who were feeling very uncomfortable?

When you are in someone else's house for the first time, and you attempt to throw away some trash, do you mistakenly go to the place where the trash can would be in your house?

"Jon, what are you doing in my pantry?"

How many times have you been walking directly toward someone who is walking in the opposite direction, and they attempt to pass you by moving to the right and you attempt to pass by moving to the left. Then, you both stop to let the other person pass - but when neither of you moves, you both simultaneously head in the same direction again?

We aren't that different.

Perhaps our greatest and most significant similarity is so intrinsic that it seems silly to make a question out of it: Isn't it nice to be human?

Excluding predatory birds that dive-bomb at high speeds and sawfish, I don't think I would enjoy life as much if I were anywhere else on the food chain. My days are stressful enough without having to worry about being eaten.

But the best characteristic of our humanity is without peer: our uncertainty.

We know a tremendous amount about the world around us, but it's just enough to know that we have no idea what's going to happen next.

Everything could change tomorrow. Everything could be completely different.

Contact Jonathan Yeomans at yeomans@email.unc.edu.