I fear that one day the students in any given dormitory at Harding University, including myself, may all burn up and die. Why, you ask? Let me tell you, friend.
When a fire alarm sounds in a Harding dorm (okay, so I can't speak for EVERY dorm but I can for the three I've lived in), it is perceived as a nuisance, not a warning of imminent danger. Admittedly, I also despise the torturous, infernal sound that the fire alarm brings. I don't rush out the door faster than anyone else. In fact, the last time the fire alarm went off in my dorm (Monday) I took care to put on a different pair of pants, put socks and shoes on my bare feet, shut down my computer, search around for a book I wanted to take, and turn out all the lights in my apartment. The only reason I did these things semi-quickly is because of that sound, that horrid, ear piercing, maddening sound that the alarm makes inside my room.
Everyone knows that the fire alarm means there is a fire. However, since we have witnessed the alarm go off indiscriminately on several occasions, the alarm has lost its meaning. Dormitory fire alarms have lost their power. Instead of alerting students of danger, fire alarms are seen as annoying interruptions of life and are definitely not taken seriously.
Is this dangerous? Probably. Will anyone care? Probably not. Will I hurry when the dorm's fire alarm sounds again (because we all know it will)? Probably not.
I wish there was a way to keep humans from numbing themselves to warning signs like fire alarms, but I'm afraid there is not. It is my sincere hope that if a real fire breaks out in a dorm that by some gracious act of God, we will take it seriously and all arrive safely out of the building. The fact that we think we are invincible scares me, but I hope we never have to find out how invicible we really are.
