What's in Your Headphones?

Sometimes I look at people, strangers, really, and wonder who they are. The most common thought I have is "if I could listen to the headphones in their ears, what music would I hear?". It's so easy to judge a person by what their wearing.

She's wearing Ugg boots, so she must being listening to something like Ke$ha.


His pants are half-way down his ass, so he's bobbing his head to Usher.

Or even,

She's black, so she must listen to hip hop and r&b.

We find a certain comfort in stereotypes. To some extent, they're a necessary evil. They allow us to size up strangers before we know them, letting us decide if we'd get along without speaking. I will not lie to you and say stereotypes have no sway in my life. I am guilty of judging the girl in the Ugg boots or the boy with the sideways baseball cap. I let it stop me from approaching you, believing, without proof, that we won't get along simply by the way we dress.

But if you were to look at me, in my Northface jacket and ridiculously long scarf, what music do you think would be in my headphones? Would you imagine that I listen to the most absurdly random mix of artists from around the world? Would you think that I would follow up a song by Paramore with a German a capella metal group and a solo violinist? Or, more realistically, would you think because of my Northface coat that I must be listening to Plain White T's and Reliant K?

Last night, the girls next door to me played songs so vastly different from the last I couldn't help but smile. Starting with Jesse's Girl, they proceeded with Far East Movement and Shakira. At the sound of Jessie's Girl, I thought we'd get along. But with the next two bands, the girls' mere existence began to annoy me. How can you follow up a 1981 classic with such mainstream, superficial music of today? How can you jump eras of music like that?

Yet, I should be appreciating the fact that they indulge in such diversity in their sound. If I had only heard Far East Movement and Shakira, I would have written them off as a stereotype I disliked in a heartbeat. Just as no one would guess the mix in my headphones, I never would have guessed that they liked Jessie's Girl.

Stereotypes are a necessary evil. We seek comfort from putting people in neat little boxes and only interacting with someone in the same box as us. Yet these boxes stop us from branching out; they restrict us to the same kind of music.

Tell me, if a stranger were to look at you, what music would they believe is in your headphones based on what you wear?

Wander safely,
Arc.