A couple of Sundays ago, I tuned in to watch Timothee Chalamet accept his first major award for his role as Bob Dylan in “A Complete Unknown.” As he gave his speech, he spoke candidly, saying, “I know the classy thing to do would be to downplay the effort that went into this role, and how much this means to me, but the truth is, this was five and a half years of my life. I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats.”

His speech ruffled some feathers as people criticized his brashness and others called him a ‘little brat’, however, I and many viewers found his honesty to be refreshing and representative of a necessary cultural shift away from nonchalance.

Nonchalance is defined as “having an air of easy unconcern or indifference and not displaying anxiety, interest, or enthusiasm” and has become one of TikTok’s favorite sensations. From cultivating mysterious auras to nonchalantly opening elevator doors, TikTok is obsessed with appearing unbothered and above it all. The nonchalant hashtag has hundreds of thousands of videos, many describing “situationships” and “talking stages” with partners who are too cool to send two consecutive texts or engage in actions that would make them appear as though they care. Whether this is a result of poor communication skills or a fear of vulnerability, it has complicated the way youth approach relationships.

Not only has this inorganic indifference led to less committed, less fulfilling relationships, but it seems to extend beyond the digital romantic discourse and into everyday scenarios. While I will concede some of this behavior can be categorized as teenage self-consciousness, it seems like a lot of it has evolved beyond that point and into a more egotistical self preservation.

I see it at school dances as people avoid the dance floor like the plague, not wanting to embarrass themselves with their less-than-perfect dance moves. I see it in the stands at football games as students refuse to scream for the team out of fear of looking like they care too much. I see it in school hallways as students second-guessing giving compliments or stifling their excitement in conversations regarding subjects they’re passionate about lest they look like someone’s fan or overly interested. This obsession with trying to look like we don’t care is not making us cooler but rather is limiting our expression of joy and other natural emotions.

As it relates to goal setting and aspirations, our culture tends to praise performances and accomplishments that look effortless while it is seen as “corny” to have big dreams and try extremely hard to accomplish them. Anything worth doing will require effort and dedication, so why act like we are not working? In admitting his desire for greatness and not downplaying the work he put in, Chalamet highlighted a shift away from a mindset that shies away from hiding how much we care and embraces passion and ambition no matter what others have to say about it.

It is cool to care, it is cool to try, and it is cool to have and express our emotions. By abandoning our self-loathing and obsessions with others’ perceptions, we can continue to care deeply about things and pursue greatness whether it be on the stage, on the field, or in our relationships with others.

The views in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the HiLite staff. Reach Arielle Fotso at afotso@hilite.org.