Whitman: On pass and out of touch
This is only the latest and most ridiculous evidence of a worrying trend toward exclusivity in Whitman College. Last week's Whitmania featured yet another Whitman-only dinner - complete with a sparsely attended ceremony for graduating seniors - and special giveaways for Whitman students only. Compare this to Butler/Wilson's Summer Bash, where all Princeton students were treated identically with regard to food and gear giveaways. At the beginning of the year, Rocky College students received a Rocky hoodie; Whitman students got not only a sweatshirt but sweatpants and a baseball cap, plus Whitman towels and T-shirts. To top it all off, Whitman students received $15 in Paw Points in exchange for the inconvenience and indignity of eating somewhere else on the Thursdays of the two pre-frosh weekends, when the dining hall was closed to undergraduates - yet Wilson residents were not compensated for similarly losing their dining hall the next night.
The most infamous example of Whitman's elitism is that of the weekly "College Night," which in theory provides Whitman students with an opportunity to interact as a college, without the meddlesome influence of outsiders. During College Nights, Whitman residents are treated to private dinners complete with tablecloths, ice sculptures, special menus and performances by a cappella or dance groups. The dinners are no longer candlelit; after some paper decorations caught fire, the votives were replaced with flickering, battery-powered plastic imitations. Apparently the candles were so vital to the creation of college spirit and unity that it was necessary to buy safer replacements.
To be fair, Whitman's administration and College Council have an incredibly difficult job: Starting a new residential college from scratch is much harder than it seems. Given the wide variety of Whitman residents - brand-new freshmen, sophomore transplants from Butler and Mathey, upperclassmen from anywhere and a handful of graduate students - it's almost impossible to figure out how to please everyone. Whitman has a fabulous College Council that does amazing things with the budget it has been given, and they are trying their best to create a unified Whitman; thus, College Night. As columnist Michael Medeiros '10 pointed out last week, however, none of this elitism has resulted in any sort of college unity.
The philosophy behind College Night is that it allows students to interact with other members of the Whitman community in a quiet and more private setting. This, however, could be accomplished through our RCA groups, as Medeiros suggests. If the administration is looking to build college unity, that might be a good starting point - as a sophomore, I know almost none of the freshmen in my RCA group, and I've never met the upperclassman who lives next door. This college-wide phenomenon is the result of RCAs spending almost all their time and resources on freshmen. Even in a two-year college, this isn't ideal. In a four-year college, however, non-freshmen are alienated and feel even less loyalty toward Whitman. This is where the attention should be diverted - building a true and inclusive college spirit instead of using divisive elitism and exclusivity.
Apparently, the passes I found under my door were meant to be facetious - simply the College Council poking fun at itself, the idea of College Night and the air that has come to surround Whitman. The council maintains that it would never block anyone from attending the event, but given Whitman's track record, I'm not so sure. That this elite vibe even exists to be mocked is disturbing and more than a little upsetting.
We had one chance to establish Whitman College's reputation for years to come, and we have made an extremely poor first impression. I am saddened to have been a part of the inaugural class of the college that has come to be treated with resentment, jealousy and even mild disdain by the rest of the Princeton community. Though it will be difficult to change Whitman's identity now, it's time to take a step in the right direction and end the exclusivity and elitism that is keeping Whitman estranged from its peers and equals.
Margaret Byron is a sophomore in Whitman College. She can be reached at mbyron@princeton.edu.
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great article. the author seems to have read my mind (i never was sure if i was just being a miser or if others shared my dissatisfaction). as a sophomore transplant in whitman, i saw my rca maybe two times all year and i am sad to say that i never really got to know any new people in whitman; all my whitman friends were people i'd met elsewhere. while i must say i can't complain about good food and free beach towels, i will be glad to be out of whitman as a junior.
This column brings up the hard realities of implementing residential colleges, and I can only hope the administration reads this. They probably will, and Nancy will probably dismiss it immediately, as she does nearly any and all criticism about her beloved vision of residential college utopia. It simply boggles my mind how the administration has gotten the concept of residential colleges so wrong. Let's face it; in a few years, Whitman will not become this desirable location everyone seems to make it out to be. After its superficial cleanliness wears off, what will drive students to Whitman instead of Rocky-Mathey (real vision of neo-gothic splendor and charm) and the new Butler (huge rooms with private bathrooms in the center of campus)? Whitman suffers from poor architecture, bland styling, and the grandiosity of a castle with the charm and character of your local Walmart. The rooms are average-sized and mediocre, their food is extremely over-hyped (tacos for everybody!), their amenities are few, and the sheer immensity of the college, while taking up nearly half of down campus, cannot foster and sustain a community. Instead, we have to suffer from a size 8,000 font type face blaring "WHITMAN COLLEGE," which is almost as ostentatious as that annoying nouveau-riche aunt of yours. Almost. Residential colleges at Yale work for several distinct reasons that cannot be replicated here: -> Almost all of the 12 residential colleges at Yale are physically self-contained, surrounding their own small courtyards. Is there any surprise that residents of Holder Hall are unusually tighter, even though Rocky is only a (GASP!) two-year college? Compare Holder and Yale's colleges to Princeton's colleges, where one cannot tell where Mathey ends and Rocky begins. In fact, Mathey should be a study in residential college diaspora: There is a little bit of Mathey in no fewer than six different buildings, stretching from the northernmost border of campus all the way down to Dillon Gym. -> Not only is each college at Yale physically smaller, but they house fewer students -- around 400 students, as opposed to more than 500 each at Princeton. The administration here touts how the University spent $136 million on Whitman for 500 students. Yale has budgeted over $600 million to build two new residential colleges that will house only 400 students each. Clearly, Yale wanted to do it right and prevent a mess (i.e. Whitman). -> Yale doesn't have eating clubs -- or any sort of organization -- that sucks up 80% of upperclassmen away from residential college life. Furthermore, Yale gives students the option of transferring to another college. That way, if most of your friends are in other college, you can be together. Unfortunately, this sort of stuff happens all the time here, but we aren't allowed to transfer and are forced to live wherever a computer in West College assigned us before we arrived on campus freshmen year. -> Yale has more undergraduates than Princeton. If anything, an argument can be made that Princeton is both numerically and physically (campus-wise) small enough that we simply don't need the residential college communities that are necessary at Yale. After all, you can't frolic around New Haven; you'll get mugged. -> Yale's colleges have actual identities. Some are famous for their formals, while others have their own squash courts. Here, the identity of a college is primarily based on only its physical attributes: Butler is down campus and was ugly, Rocky is up campus and pretty. Unfortunately, college identity runs no deeper here. Sorry for the rant, but as a resident in Mathey, I've become frustrated by the administration's blind pursuit of an ideal without stopping to reflect on the results and the efficacy of their master plan. I have no sense of identity with Mathey after living here for two years. Most of my friends are down campus, and my RCA didn't even have me on her roster until well into spring semester. Let's just call the situation as it is: bad. The administration should go back to the drawing board and come up with a plan that works for Princeton students, at Princeton.