That...something...in his eyes

Greg has chaotic hair - light brown but the ends are bleached yellow. His beard seems to be an afterthought, a result and not an ends in itself. He has something in his eyes - what might often be called a spark or a glint or some such light/flame/fire metaphor, but I will call it a galaxy. Right there, in his eyes, is reflected an unfinished image of a whole galaxy - which for its inhabitants might as well be the whole Universe, since it's all the same once it gets that far away from you - and it is the Universe in which his perfect world has been place.

He is an idealist. Comically so.

I have seen Greg around campus before - he says he is a second year - but he has come over to talk to me because of when we saw each other yesterday, at the study-in in President Zimmer's lobby. I was hoping to read Tomcat In Love by Tim O'Brien, because it has been sitting on my desk for months, never quite on the top of the pile, but now he is coming to speak and so I would like to remember why I like him so much and what it is that his words can do (he says they can kill people, and I believe him). But instead, Greg, who is fittingly gregarious, comes over and asks to sit down and of course I say yes.

He asks me about STAND (Students Take Action Now: Darfur) and whether I agree with its tactics. I tell him that I do not necessarily believe that STAND's repeated efforts to make life difficult for Zimmer - by sitting in his lobby, by dumping change on his secretary's desk, by protesting loudly in front of Admin - will reverse the school's decision not to divest from Sudan. But, I say, that is not the only measure for success; if the protests and the sit-ins and all of it can enliven the activists on campus, if it can convince people who thought they were alone in wanting to act that in fact they are no where near alone, then it is a success.

Only then, I think, once the students have truly become active, or activated, can we actually move in ways that might reverse the decision. Then, we can get students on the Board of Trustees, maybe get Jim Crown to resign (as I don't think he will ever change his mind - his is a particularly egregious form of stubbornness, I think).

Greg listens well, generally, only rarely interrupting (and in fairness, I interrupt him more often than he me). But when he speaks, he seems to relish the disagreement - not in a menacing way, or a malicious way, but in a truly U of C way. He is taking pleasure in the difference of opinion because it is boring (especially to U of C students) to talk to people who agree with you. If we disagree, that means we can keep talking, and the discussion is what is entertaining.

He thinks we need to rebuild the University from the ground up, completely changing the meaning of education and the structure of the institution. I am skeptical; I tell him it is far easier to start a new institution than it is to destroy an old one and rebuild it. He, as a true U of C student, concedes the impracticality of his idea, and yet he continues to advocate for it. At first I find this frustrating. After a while though, I find it endearing. He is a second year, I think condescendingly, let him have his hopes.