Recognizing Bowdoin as part of "the real world"

Doublethink: A word on hovering

We learn campus culture quickly at Bowdoin. In our initial weeks as first years, we learn to go trayless in the dining halls; that the sporty folks go to Baxter and the crunchy folks to Reed; that it’s socially acceptable to cry at an a cappella concert. In the intimate community of the College, we are given a lot of agency in shaping what life feels like here. This doesn’t always seem like the case, though. There are times when the power of the administration explicitly manifests itself. Sometimes, we agree with the steps taken. We think it’s good that ResLife knows when and where parties are happening because it keeps us safe. We’re glad that the College provides spaces that allow us to come together and explore identity, like the Women’s Resource Center and Russwurm House and 30 College. And yet there are times when it feels like the administration gets it wrong—when it hovers too close. These are opportunities for us, as students, to play a part in dictating our campus’ dynamics.
Two Sundays ago, all sophomores were expected to attend a one-hour meeting intended to “help [us] make the most of [our] experience[s] at Bowdoin, and beyond.” Gathered in Pickard, administrators talked at us from the stage about the “invisible internship network” and “keys to success” and “how to best use extra time.” Amidst calls to “stand up if your parent is a doctor or a lawyer” and “raise your hand if you play a sport,” we found ourselves most frustrated with the sense that each decision we make now ought to lead to some nebulous, lucrative future. We are already inundated with emails about major declaration and study abroad deadlines. This meeting rested on the assumption that we are oblivious to these once looming, now pressing decisions before us. The reality is, we have five semesters left at Bowdoin. We wanted to hear: “enjoy this time;” “be present;” “foster meaningful relationships;” “pursue what you’re passionate about.” Instead we heard: “networking is not a dirty word;” “make connections for the future;” “win the opportunity.” The take away is that our time here is simply a stepping stone for achieving a high powered career with high donating potential. Not that our time here is valuable in and of itself, or that we should do what we love and lead fulfilling lives. We want to acknowledge that this meeting very well could’ve been helpful for some members of our class, but we have yet to talk to someone that feels this way.
The All Sophomore Meeting was indicative of the type of person that Bowdoin—at least a part of it—aims to produce. To us, this felt like undue pressure from the College, and attitude management. It depends on a conventional notion of what it means to do well, to be successful. And we’re seeing that these notions don’t just stop at the institutional level. They also bleed into the deeply personal.
This week, we’ve witnessed an uproar from students surrounding Bowdoin’s policy on pornography. Yik Yak was flooded with lamentations of the death of porn at Bowdoin. In an email to the campus community about a new network security system, we were told that “Websites known to be infected or distributing malware and those categorized as high-risk—including pornography and gambling sites—are flagged” and that IT security officers will review our web activity (i.e. our use of these flagged sites) to “secure the campus network and technology.” OK, fine. We all want a secure network. Tessa is frankly still hurting from last year’s phishing fiasco. We dug deeper, though, and discovered that Bowdoin does in fact prohibit the use of pornography on grounds divorced from campus safety. The IT website states: “Use of the College’s computers, network or electronic communication facilities [...] to send, view or download fraudulent, harassing, obscene (i.e. pornographic), threatening, or other messages or material that are a violation of applicable law or College policy, such as under circumstances that might contribute to the creation of a hostile academic or work environment, is prohibited.”
Sandwiching “pornographic” between “harassing” and “threatening” is loaded. Bowdoin’s wording isn’t really clear here—maybe they just don’t want us watching porn on the first floor of H-L. Watching porn is legal. We’re all over 18. We should be able to watch it in the privacy of the Stacks (...or our homes). It’s valid to have complicated feeling about porn—we both have our qualms with it. But it’s not Bowdoin’s job to regulate those feelings under the guise of protecting against a “hostile academic or work environment” or network security. The ambiguity here leaves room for Bowdoin to take a moralized stance on our sexualities. Bowdoin is going to shape us no matter what. It’s a residential college: we spend four super-intense growing years of our lives here. We have a right to make Bowdoin the place we want it to be. We have an obligation to be critical of this place, and to speak our minds about what we want to see change. The All Sophomore Meeting and Bowdoin’s policy on porn are not necessarily representative of Bowdoin at large, but they highlight these moments when Bowdoin tiptoes into the territory of a helicopter parent. Bowdoin is not Big Brother, because we won’t allow it to be. Power runs in all directions.

Doublethink

Recognizing Bowdoin as part of "the real world"

This piece represents the opinion of the authors:

January 29, 2016

After a break of globetrotting or deep existential musings or endless hours of catching up on “Scandal” with mom and the cat, we’re all back in the arctic tundra of a January Bowdoin. With a week under our belts, a soft 90 percent of all our conversations have included either inquiries about how our breaks were or lamentations on how annoying inquiries about our breaks are. We’re also finding ourselves describing our transitions from “The Real World” back to Bowdoin. And no, we’re not talking about the two-decade running cultural phenomenon that was MTV’s “Real World.”

The phrase “The Real World” gets tossed around a lot at Bowdoin. Recently, we’ve heard it used as an excuse for unsavory behavior on our campus and other college campuses. But more broadly at Bowdoin, the phrase is used to differentiate the place where we spend the majority of our time from reality. Anytime we leave Bowdoin, we enter this real world. Anytime we pause to consider the utility of which classes we take and which major we choose, we’re factoring in “The Real World.” Anytime we think about life after Bowdoin, we name it “The Real World.” We talk about our time here as if it’s a magical fairyland summer camp where time just doesn’t seem to hold the same weight as it does elsewhere.

Of course, life at Bowdoin feels different from life anywhere else. It’s highly concentrated. We’re enveloped by a frenzy of campus wides and heated discussions on the top floor of Adams and Moulton brunch playlists and lab reports and blizzards and sunrise smoothies and the most stimulating, thoughtful, fun people we’ve ever encountered. Each day feels like three days. What about this is not “real”?

Sure, we’re privileged here. We’re nurtured. Sheltered, even. But that doesn’t mean we should discount our time at Bowdoin as something separate from real life. When we split ourselves this way, we’re always internally at odds. Reconciling distance, and who we are in different places, is part of growing up. But calling anywhere besides here “The Real World” makes this task harder. Because how can we possibly become cohesive, functional people out of the disjointed sections of our lives while not giving Bowdoin the gravity of “The Real World?”
“The Real World” has many iterations. The two of us link it with the stability and structure in our lives before Bowdoin. But it can also mean the “harsh reality” that lies outside the bubble. It can mean personal space. It can mean the world that expects us to work hard and make money and be “successful.” Even though we think of “The Real World” in different ways, it is always in opposition to Bowdoin.

In doing this, we’re framing Bowdoin and our daily lives here as unreal. It’s not a big jump to go from here to “what I’m learning won’t matter outside of this context,” “this time is just a placeholder” and “my feelings aren’t that important.” So we slump. As sophomores, slump is in the air. The more that’s put on our plates—major declaration, study abroad applications, housing choices, increasingly intricate social scenes—the harder we slump. It’s tempting to slip into some combination of dealing with these things and complaining about dealing with these things or just blowing it all off and hiding under the blankets. We are forced to grapple with decisions from “The Real World” while living in a space that we deem not real. So we lose motivation. We stop being present. We forget to relish this place.

Bowdoin is reality. It’s real because we experience it every day. That’s the point, in and of itself. By existing here, we make it “The Real World.” And that’s scary as shit, right? We’re staring big decisions in the face all the time, and we want to write our uncertainty off as unreal, as just passing through. But maybe we ought to sink into that instability. Being in-between is terrifying, but it’s exciting, and it is “The Real World.”

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