Fall quarter, I decided to try something I hadn’t done in years, for as long as I can remember. I started to wear a helmet whenever I rode my bike. I got a free helmet my freshman year, and yet for three years, I never wore it. Because no one did. I didn’t want to be a nerd, I didn’t want to look like a sketchy grad student and I didn’t want the helmet to screw up my hair, which is admittedly temperamental.

But my three-year stint succumbing to peer pressure halted when two friends were hospitalized after serious bike accidents in which they were not wearing helmets. Both incidents were legitimately scary. The pain my friends experienced wasn’t an hour getting a cast. It was days in the ICU clinging to consciousness. It was weeks adjusting to normal life after a life-threatening accident. It was months of therapy trying to regain not just their strength but their basic neurological functioning. And it will be years remembering the day they could have lost their lives.

When I came back to school this year, I brought my helmet. But I couldn’t wear it. I just felt so ridiculous. Even though I knew it was something I should do, and though in theory I was comfortable with myself, the act of putting the helmet on made me feel unbearably self-conscious. Helmets are just not sexy! I just knew that if I wore my helmet, everyone would see me and judge me. “Wow, lame.” “Haha, Ben’s such a nerd.”

But then I realized…I am a nerd. And that’s fine! I thought about every judgment people could make about me, and realized that they were all ridiculous. And really, am I the kind of person who would prioritize what people think of me over my own safety and well-being? Absolutely not.

I see this as an issue of self-respect, something I find much sexier than slightly-crumpled helmet hair. I would admire people much more for respecting themselves enough to care about their safety than for caring about what people think of them. By wearing a helmet, you’re not making a fashion statement; you’re making a personal statement. Helmets are never going to be cute in and of themselves, but the confidence you exude by wearing one is exponentially sexier than any hat you could wear. Thinking that you won’t get into an accident is arrogant. Thinking that safety might interfere with your hair is vain. Not wanting to resemble a nerd is insecure. None of these to me is an attractive quality in a person, yet they all scream at me when I see someone riding a bike without a helmet. I can’t help it! So yes, now I judge you for not wearing a helmet. My, how the tides have turned.

Now, a lot of these thoughts came about when I first started wearing my helmet. I still felt uncomfortable, so literally every bike ride was spent justifying to myself why it was worth how weird I felt. And it did feel weird, for about a week. Now I feel naked without it. It’s no longer something I’m making myself do—it’s something I want to do. It’s common sense.

And you know what? People really don’t care. I’ve only had two comments from friends who’ve seen me wearing a helmet. The first sarcastically yelled “Ben?? Nice helmet…” to which I coolly affirmed “Thanks! I like it too!” The second friend was one who had been hospitalized. As she rode by me, her mouth erupted into a huge smile. “Blau! Nice helmet!!” And her smile wasn’t just a friendly hello. It was a smile of pride. She was proud of me for defying idiotic social norms and caring about myself. And you know what? I was proud of myself, too.

So even if you don’t have friends who have been injured from bike accidents, and even if you still feel a little insecure about it, I encourage you to try wearing a helmet. Just for a week, and then see how you feel. It won’t kill you. In fact, it might save your life. And at the very least, I’ll think you’re sexy.

Ben Lauing ‘11