There’s a well-known saying about Brown University: “If you don’t come out at Brown, you’re probably straight.”

Pretty funny, right? Also, probably true. Anecdotal evidence seems to confirm Brown’s reputation as an experimenter’s nirvana. Such experimentation helps break open doors for closeted students of all kinds, queer and otherwise.

Does this same proverb hold true for Bowdoin? Probably not. The College, while attentive to questions and issues of sexuality, still clutches to its normalized culture. Stories of sexual or drug-related boundary pushing are either rare or woefully under-advertised here. Bowdoin does not have the same reputation as Brown. We don’t get naked as much.

There’s a well known-saying about the University of Chicago: “Where fun goes to die.”

Pretty awful, right? Though I doubt that this is entirely true, Chicago’s reputation has been well earned through its canonical core curriculum, resistance to grade inflation, and pressure-cooker ethos.

Does this axiom hold true for Bowdoin? Not really. Work hard, play hard baby! Students here do not receive an insignificant amount  of work, but most Saturday night flop-sweat is social house- rather than stacks-induced.

Lastly, there’s a well-known word to describe Wesleyan University: “liberal.”

Is the Bowdoin campus similarly disposed? Well, yes. But the rolling boil of political idealism at Wesleyan is kept at a low simmer here. As Eric Edelman pointed out in his column, Bowdoin is not exactly a cesspool of activists.

Now, I stupidly bitched out Edelman in a comment on his article for being lazy. That was obviously the wrong way to go about it. However, in my opinion, the article was hearsay on steroids. If the author is not personally invested in the idea, and does not investigate real instances of campus activism, why spray bullets into the crowd?

And yet, the article raises an important point: does Bowdoin have any campus nationalism? And if so, where does it lie?

With drugs, sex, and rock ‘n roll? No. With intellectual vigor? Not really. With politics? Not even.

Bowdoin is awash with type-A students. The noise of purposeful, clattering Sperrys is kind of deafening. But aren’t we all somehow disengaged from a central point of contact?

We have our preachy vegan activists. And our unwashed music majors. And our Calvin Klein covered athletes. And our pompous Peucinians.

But at the end of the day, none of us is really that preachy, that unhygienic, that preppy (well, maybe), or even that pompous. There is a web of respect that extends from each niche to all of its campus brethren. That is why I think Edelman doesn’t hear the boom of soapbox anarchists at Bowdoin. We have a marketplace of possible activities, instead of an ideological onslaught.

This leaves Bowdoin both with serious advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, there’s less infighting. You do your thing. I’ll do my thing. We may generalize and gossip, but the ideological warfare or crusading that is often found on campuses is (thankfully) absent. Students can get to know each other without hating another’s label.

On the other hand, Bowdoin students aren’t dreaming up new ways to push boundaries. Forget politics for a second, how about standards of decency? Campuses have often been used as think tanks for the reimagining of social norms. And yet at Bowdoin, most of us are content to play by the rules. We’re cognizant of being presentable. “The man” is our future boss, not our hated enemy. We’re no plastic cocktail party, but we might be an engaging, severely polite dinner conversation.

So what defines this college? Around what, if anything, do we cohere?

Being awesome? Fit? Tolerant? 

I recently argued that, in keeping with how much we gab on about the common good, Bowdoin should make it mandatory. With the transformation of religion from devotion to data set, service seems like the only viable candidate to provide spiritual foundation. But, that is something that must be imposed on us—for own good, of course, but imposed nonetheless.

What this article worries over is the looseness of substantive student cohesion. We like each other. And student groups, on their own, vigorously wage fights for things they care about—about energy consumption, politics, good music, athletic dominance, and intellectual excellence. To discount the sincerity and the prevalence of these efforts does a disservice to this school.

But, is there a Bowdoin culture, rooted in a common cause (rather than aesthetic)? If not, should there be? Is that looseness the great price or the great prize of our insistence on respect?

I don’t know.

There’s a well-known saying about Brown University: “If you don’t come out at Brown, you’re probably straight.”
Pretty funny, right? Also, probably true. Anecdotal evidence seems to confirm Brown’s reputation as an experimenter’s nirvana. Such experimentation helps break open doors for closeted students of all kinds, queer and otherwise.
Does this same proverb hold true for Bowdoin? Probably not. The College, while attentive to questions and issues of sexuality, still clutches to its normalized culture. Stories of sexual or drug-related boundary pushing are either rare or woefully under-advertised here. Bowdoin does not have the same reputation as Brown. We don’t get naked as much.
There’s a well known-saying about the University of Chicago: “Where fun goes to die.”
Pretty awful, right? Though I doubt that this is entirely true, Chicago’s reputation has been well earned through its canonical core curriculum, resistance to grade inflation, and pressure-cooker ethos.
Does this axiom hold true for Bowdoin? Not really. Work hard, play hard baby! Students here do not receive an insignificant amount  of work, but most Saturday night flop-sweat is social house- rather than stacks-induced.
Lastly, there’s a well-known word to describe Wesleyan University: “liberal.”
Is the Bowdoin campus similarly disposed? Well, yes. But the rolling boil of political idealism at Wesleyan is kept at a low simmer here. As Eric Edelman pointed out in his column, Bowdoin is not exactly a cesspool of activists.
Now, I stupidly bitched out Edelman in a comment on his article for being lazy. That was obviously the wrong way to go about it. However, in my opinion, the article was hearsay on steroids. If the author is not personally invested in the idea, and does not investigate real instances of campus activism, why spray bullets into the crowd?
And yet, the article raises an important point: does Bowdoin have any campus nationalism? And if so, where does it lie?
With drugs, sex, and rock ‘n roll? No. With intellectual vigor? Not really. With politics? Not even.
Bowdoin is awash with type-A students. The noise of purposeful, clattering Sperrys is kind of deafening. But aren’t we all somehow disengaged from a central point of contact?
We have our preachy vegan activists. And our unwashed music majors. And our Calvin Klein covered athletes. And our pompous Peucinians.
But at the end of the day, none of us is really that preachy, that unhygienic, that preppy (well, maybe), or even that pompous. There is a web of respect that extends from each niche to all of its campus brethren. That is why I think Edelman doesn’t hear the boom of soapbox anarchists at Bowdoin. We have a marketplace of possible activities, instead of an ideological onslaught.
This leaves Bowdoin both with serious advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, there’s less infighting. You do your thing. I’ll do my thing. We may generalize and gossip, but the ideological warfare or crusading that is often found on campuses is (thankfully) absent. Students can get to know each other without hating another’s label.
On the other hand, Bowdoin students aren’t dreaming up new ways to push boundaries. Forget politics for a second, how about standards of decency? Campuses have often been used as think tanks for the reimagining of social norms. And yet at Bowdoin, most of us are content to play by the rules. We’re cognizant of being presentable. “The man” is our future boss, not our hated enemy. We’re no plastic cocktail party, but we might be an engaging, severely polite dinner conversation.
So what defines this college? Around what, if anything, do we cohere?
Being awesome? Fit? Tolerant? 
I recently argued that, in keeping with how much we gab on about the common good, Bowdoin should make it mandatory. With the transformation of religion from devotion to data set, service seems like the only viable candidate to provide spiritual foundation. But, that is something that must be imposed on us—for own good, of course, but imposed nonetheless.
What this article worries over is the looseness of substantive student cohesion. We like each other. And student groups, on their own, vigorously wage fights for things they care about—about energy consumption, politics, good music, athletic dominance, and intellectual excellence. To discount the sincerity and the prevalence of these efforts does a disservice to this school.
But, is there a Bowdoin culture, rooted in a common cause (rather than aesthetic)? If not, should there be? Is that looseness the great price or the great prize of our insistence on respect?
I don’t know.