While I was up in Seattle for a large chunk of summer break, I volunteered at a food bank a few times. Yeah, whoop-de-doo, KAY club does stuff like that all the time. But I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I encountered some interesting people while bagging groceries, stocking shelves, and building a massive compost pile of squishy produce.

Shoppers ranged from every age, size, and color possible. I watched Russian babushkas pick over the produce with trained eyes, packed groceries in a Japanese woman’s bag to her specifications, and listened to traditional African music filter through a man’s headphones. Seattle is a pretty diverse city.

These two young boys snuck a sunflower into their mom’s coat pocket, which caught her off guard at first – but then a smile appeared. There was also a specific elderly man who, on two separate occasions, came through with a cake and flowers, talking about how he brought his “sweet lady” these gifts every time he got groceries.

While some people were quick to get in and out and others loitered through the aisles, everyone seemed to appreciate the help…except for this one man. He stood out from the others, clothed in an expensive biking suit, even wearing the helmet indoors. He pulled me aside to make sure everything was organic, going on to tell me about how this specific pomegranate juice was seven dollars in the store and he was getting it for free.

I’ll admit it, I was a bit put off by his attitude. He seemed uppity, and I couldn’t fathom how he had qualified for this aid. Then I realized what I was doing: judging someone in a food bank, of all places. I got my mind back on track and reassured him that the produce hadn’t been drowned in pesticides – we were in Seattle, after all. Right before he left, I noticed that he was helping this elderly woman carry her groceries out.

I didn’t know his story, and it wasn’t my place to judge him. As we start up the school year, there are going to be a lot of fresh faces in the building. Cut the freshmen some slack; they’re just now learning how to be high school students.  Welcome the transfer students into your friend group; they don’t know anyone just yet. We’re in this together.