At the corner of Huron and State streets I waited for the crosswalk light to change. Off to my right I was struck with the appearance and height of the North Quad Residential and Academic Complex - the nearly complete living-learning, state-of-the-art dormitory, classroom and faculty office complex.

In these days of desire for quality living quarters, “North Quad” should certainly bring smiles to faces of visiting parents and prospective students. 

My mind drifted as I looked up at several men finishing a final concrete pour for steps leading to an elevated courtyard. I imagined how nice it would be to live in these new facilities and recalled two undergraduates I know - both first in their families to attend college - whose parents’ homes were recently foreclosed. Would they live in these new dorms someday? The sights and sounds of construction filled the air as I recalled working as a laborer and apprentice plumber in my mid-20s. A familiar dusty odor floated around me.

Looking down I saw a man wearing a hard hat and work clothes - perhaps in his early 40’s - crossing the street toward me. I remembered my dad coming home after laying pipe in home construction for more than 30 years in Sacramento, Calif. Their hands were dirty.

We sized one another up for a few moments before I broke the silence. “Ya know - standing here at street level you can see just how big these buildings are. They really sort of look like palaces. The view must be great from the top floor.” Without skipping a beat he looked straight in my eyes: “Yeah, they’re for a bunch of rich college students.” I winced.

In an instant the light turned green and we quickly started walking across Huron Street. I wanted to say something. It was as if this man was channeling my dead father’s mistrust of anyone with a college degree. After a couple seconds I reacted to my street crossing colleague: “I’ve always thought workers on various construction sites around campus should get reduced tuition for their children who might attend the University of Michigan someday.”

As we turned to walk in opposite directions he calmly reacted: “Yeah, good luck with that idea when you run it by your university president.”

Perhaps he was in a hurry to grab a quick lunch. Maybe he was annoyed with my comments or what he assumed I do for a living. I will never know. But recently I have been wondering about his work routines in the final construction of suite-style living quarters and classrooms he probably considers a bit extravagant. What are his thoughts as he gazes down at this university town?

As we parted ways I was taken aback. My day had started on an upbeat note. I would have a pleasant lunch with colleagues and we would probably talk about our classes. Instead this chance meeting highlighted topics of a course I teach: The Experience of Social Class in College and the Community. Rather than a friendly exchange about a new building’s progress and appearance, I encountered social class tensions that swirl around us everyday - even at the university. Perhaps I should say especially at a university where social class is in the making.

But that day on a Midwestern college campus - like so many other campuses where men and women work with their bodies and minds to build and teach - social class suddenly appeared. It surfaced where economic differences can be invisible or avoided and too often abstractly discussed while reviewing inequality statistics or reading texts on justice and the right thing to do.

The following week I shared this encounter with my students as a way to illustrate how social class is experienced at the University of Michigan. Many expressed uneasiness hearing and talking about how others - from different social places - view them as wealthy and privileged. Others who had self-identified as first in their families to attend college seemed to appreciate my street crossing partner’s aggravation. We explored understandable resentments associated with class difference and use of the word “rich” during the current too-big-to-fail economic recovery.

Our late semester conversations clarified how social diversity surrounds us in unpredictable ways, even as we admire state-of-the-art campus buildings. Hopefully my brief meeting with a man I will probably never talk to again shows the usefulness of stepping outside taken for granted worlds.

Dwight Lang is a lecturer in the Department of Sociology at the University of Michigan and a contributor to AnnArbor.com.