Facing a problem yourself? Annie has answers. Ask away!
Dear Annie,
Like many college students, my friends and I view several people on campus as micro celebrities. We frequently see these people around GW and every time we pass them we think to ourselves, “Do they also know of us?” So my question to you is how do I know if they see us in the same light as we see them? And how do I get to a point where I’m friends with them, not just gazing at them?
Sincerely,
(possible) fellow micro celebrity
Dear (possible) fellow micro celebrity,
When red-headed a cappella singer Chloe wants Beca, a stranger, to join her a cappella group in “Pitch Perfect,” she just asks her. If you’re dying to know what your micro celebrities think of you, why don’t you just ask them?
I am sure they have seen you. Most of us grow to recognize the people we regularly see on campus. We all notice when the screeching protester in front of District House is a different old man and not the usual socialism guy. But unless you’re doing something to make yourself stand out, they probably don’t think of you with the elevated status you associate with them. Instead, they might regard you as the random person who looks suspiciously thrilled to see them while they walk to Gelbucks.
We always like to say that celebrities are just like us. They may own oceanside mansions and jet off to St. Barts on holidays — which, come on, isn’t far off from the reality of some GW students — but most VIPs also suffer through life’s doldrums. Us Weekly has a whole column dedicated to pictures of celebrities doing “normal people things,” like Olivia Rodrigo pumping gas or Jordin Sparks picking up prescriptions.
So if even the hottest stars are average Joes like us, your campus micro celebrities are, too. You said it yourself: You frequently see them while walking around the campus you inhabit. I’m sure that half the reason you spotted them is because they added a distinct flair to the activities that you do — posting eye-catching social media content about being a young professional in D.C., or, less performatively, picking up the same bizarre combination of foods at dining halls as you, like California rolls and french fries.
They’re students just like you. Don’t let the status you and your friends have given these people intimidate you. You can talk to them. You could even take your connection from a parasocial one to friendship.
Bring good intentions when you befriend your campus micro celebrities. If you and your friend group pokes fun at them or seeks out interactions with them just to say you did, don’t strike up a friendship. But if you want to get to know them better because you view whatever they do to stand out as cool, then pour yourself into forming a new bond. Your interest in them should go beyond how they feel about you.
If you’ve decided your intentions are good, start friendship flirting. Next time you see them on campus, introduce yourself. Lean into the awkwardness of the moment — “I know this may sound weird …” — but try to explain why your fleeting glances of the person on campus has elevated your perception of them to micro celebrity status. They might think it’s bizarre, but they’ll probably be flattered.
Don’t bombard them in the shower like Chloe does with Beca in “Pitch Perfect,” but initiate a rapport. They’re a micro celebrity — they can’t be that intimidating. And you’re never going to know if you and your friends are micro celebrities for your micro celebrities if you don’t ask.
Let’s be friends,
Annie