It’s that time of year again. The dining halls are poised to outdo themselves. The Quad is going to fill up with confused groups of people clustered around campus maps. Your classes are suddenly about to be twice as big as normal. Welcome to Family Weekend.
It’s really wonderful to have visitors, but it can also be tough to juggle everything you need to do over the weekend and entertaining guests. Family Weekend, despite the moniker, is a fairly typical weekend. Professors still assign the same amount of work and there are still many…er…social interactions to enjoy.
Last Family Weekend included the Saturday of the ABC party. After a whole day with my family, I was ready for some time with friends. I threw on a trash bag, and we headed over to Helm.
Apparently trash bags are more attractive than I thought, because soon I was sloppily making out with a boy I recognized from one of my classes. We headed back to his room and fooled around for a bit before falling asleep.
The next morning at 7 a.m., I walked back to my dorm in little more than spandex and a t-shirt to say goodbye to my folks. I got back to my room in time to change into pajamas and give Mom and Dad the requisite hugs before they appeared at my door.
It was a surreal experience. In just a few minutes I had gone from a sheepish, slightly damp college student to dutiful, loving daughter. The part that I found most odd wasn’t the transformation itself, but the ease of doing so.
We are all used to playing various different roles in our lives. At Bowdoin, every student has many talents and identities; that’s what makes us liberal arts kids. What’s fascinating is how good we are at separating these identities into different spheres, which often appear to have a “weekend” and “weekday” component.
This is not to suggest that Bowdoin is a “party school” that prioritizes the weekend. On the contrary, I think it speaks to how focused we are the rest of the time. We care so much about our academics and structured extracurriculars we only know how to unwind by separating ourselves from it entirely.
The disconnect created by this separation has an impact on a lot of things, particularly how our hookup culture is structured.
The dreamlike nature of the weekend—specifically weekend nights—can make it difficult to reconcile the people you interact with at parties with those you see in the daytime—especially if you’ve been intoxicated.
Is that cute boy you made out briefly with really the one who sits behind you in math? Could the attractive girl in the corner of the party really be the one you see on the way to English class every Tuesday and Thursday? It’s unclear.
The person you had a sleepover with on Friday doesn’t seem like the same person you verbally sparred with over Shakespeare.
People are different with the lights off. And it can be scary to try to get to know someone you’ve only really interacted with at night in a daytime setting.
Maybe we should try, though. Because we’re the same people, no matter whether the sun is up or not.
I’m not saying you have to date or even be friends with all of your past hook-ups. But nighttime encounters—especially if you’d had some intimate physical interaction—deserve at least some acknowledgement in the morning. Reconciling our multiple selves might be the first step to a less awkward Sunday morning.
In case you were wondering, the boy from last family weekend and I are still friends. We never hooked up again, but I did gain a valuable study partner. I don’t recommend introducing yourself to classmates that way though. Exchanging saliva is way more likely to give you mono than a handshake.
In short, try to be friends with the people you go home with. If you liked them in the dark, they’re probably still pretty awesome the next day.