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(04/09/14 4:46pm)
It took way too long for two college-aged girls to realize that the Middlebury Campus is released every Thursday. In other words, here is the very delayed Throwback Thursday edition of the Secret Life of NARPs.
Ever wondered whether Maddie or Izzy have ever experienced athletic success? Or when they realized that they were “different” from the others? Well, we are going to throw it way back to a time when we were the unimaginable: ballers. Hop on board readers (hopefully we were correct in using the plural here), because it’s time for a trip down memory lane.
Scene: The playground. While the weird kids ate dirt, we NARPs were busy basking in the glory of the only athletic moments of our entire lives: on the four square court. Recess commenced, and after chugging our Juicy Juice, we crumpled the cartons and tossed the boxes of liquid courage aside. NARPs were praised for their agility within the 8x8 square and their masterful manipulation of the regulated 8.5 inch rubber red ball — because, frankly, it was impossible for Maddie to have an asthma attack in such a small arena. We lived to be crowned king in the fourth square. Whether it took an aggressive Cherry Bomb, Popcorn, or Around the World alteration on the traditional game to be praised champion, we sacrificed friendships, reputations and safety to reach the ultimate goal. Are you wondering why Izzy’s cubby buddy, Jamie McDonell has a crooked nose? She doesn’t like to brag, but she had a wicked 3 inch vertical before a major cherry bomb one day ... and I think we all know what happened next. With the power of her favorite footwear, Heely’s, Izzy’s athletic prowess reached an all-time high (those dashing bedazzled wheels made getting those hard-to-reach balls a possibility). But the day came when Izzy’s Heelys no longer fit, and Maddie’s school banned the game after countless trips to the nurse and principal’s office. With no way to develop hand-eye coordination anymore, it was merely a downhill battle from there.
The remainder of NARP childhoods were spent playing Sims (yes, we all used the money cheat), watching Boy Meets World and staring at the window at the other kids playing games like Kick the Can or heading to soccer practice in their minivans (are those still around?). For Maddie and Izzy, their only exercise came after recognizing the illustrious ringing from a nearby ice cream truck through the dialogue of a Spongebob re-run. After a quick game of hide-and-go-seek for any loose change, a car chase ensued in front of all the neighborhood children. After flagging down the driver, we got our hands on either the king-size Bomb Pop (for Izzy) or the Powerpuff Girl graphic popsicle with a gumball eye (for Maddie). The reaction to us venturing outside for momentary exercise elicited a very To Kill A Mockingbird-eque reaction from the other kids. To be clear, we were Boo Radley.
Most of these memories came flooding back to us recently as we had a moment, albeit brief, of soul searching. Why are we training for a half-marathon? Now as the schedule becomes more demanding, we realize a half-marathon is not in fact just a few laps around Battell Beach; it’s a feat we have to work for. Not only are we trying to prove to ourselves that we can accomplish something, but we are representing the NARPs and trying to prove it’s possible to others as well. For Maddie, it’s an homage to her high school gym teacher who blamed an apparently very serious “mental block” on her inability to be athletic and therefore bench press twenty pounds. In reality, she really just had the upper-arm strength of a squirrel.
There are a lot of people on campus who doubt us as well. A mutual friend explained it in terms of economics. He wasn’t going to invest in a venture in which he expected to fail, because it would be an unwise entrepreneurial move. We take on a different mentality. When it’s early on a Saturday morning and we are about ready to embark on a long run, our ability to get out of bed is simple: haters be our motivators. We want to experience what it truly feels like to cross that finish line, and we also need an excuse to make a pump-up playlist. Happy Training!
(04/09/14 4:42pm)
Geert Wilders, the leader and founder of the Dutch Party for Freedom (PVV), appeared proudly before his loyal following in The Hague on Wednesday night, still hoping that the local elections would solidify his political power. Against the backdrop of a Dutch flag spanning the entire backside of a medium-sized beer cellar in the political capital of the Netherlands, Mr. Wilders asked his boisterous audience three questions.
“Do you want more or less European Union?” The audience, familiar by now with Mr. Wilders’ crusade against the ever-closer cooperation of European nation-states—he has suggested violent rebellion if the EU gains powers of taxation—responded with a somewhat scattered but loud “Less! Less! Less!” The crowd repeated the word 13 times. Wilders, building momentum, continued with the precise eagerness of a hunter who is about to corner his prey. “Do you want more or less Labour Party?” The Dutch Labour Party (PVDA), it had become apparent before Mr. Wilders entered the room, had lost political control over Amsterdam, the Dutch capital and most populous city with roughly 800,000 inhabitants, for the first time since coming to power in 1949. Even Wilders’ disciples, whose confused populism combines leftist and rightist conservatism, seemed to commiserate with the social-democrats. “Less! Less! Less!” they uttered just eleven times.
Wilders, visibly in need of a brief recovery after the underwhelming response, looked down on his bright green tie, then turned his eyes to the floor, before prefacing his third question with an expression of acute awareness of what his next move would bring about. “And the third question is…and I’m not actually allowed to say this, because I will be reported to the police… But freedom of speech is an obvious good. We haven’t said anything illegal. Nothing that is not true. So, I ask you. Do you want, in this city and in the Netherlands, more or fewer Moroccans?” This time, the ensuing chant was reminiscent of the response Joseph Goebbels elicited in his Berlin Sportpalast speech of February 10, 1933, which offered the national-socialist ‘solution’ for Germany’s Post-WWI pains. Mr. Goebbels, who served as Hitler’s Minister for Propaganda between 1933 and 1945, racing in the rhythm of his rhetoric, assured his audience that “the Jewish insolence has lived longer in the past than it will live in the future.” The crowd laughed derisively, applauded, and clamored, with many rising to their feet to extend their right arm at a 45-degree angle.
The congregation of Wilders-devotees in The Hague responded in unison to the question on the presence of Moroccans—a group that makes up about 2% of the total Dutch population—yelling “Fewer! Fewer! Fewer!” The chant lasted a total of 16 repetitions of the word (‘minder’ in Dutch). Basking in the success of his kill, Mr. Wilders observed his surroundings, wetted his upper lip twice with his thin tongue in a gesture that completed his unnerving resemblance to a colubrid, and assured the Dutch on national television that “we will take care of that, then.” The crowd laughed derisively, applauded, and clamored.
As Mr. Wilders would find out soon after his address, the Dutch midterm elections forced the Party for Freedom, which thrives on the populist appeal of Mr. Wilders—he is the party’s only member—to surrender political dominance in all but one municipality. Having previously suffered significant defeat in the Dutch national elections of September 2012, Mr. Wilders differs much from Minister Goebbels in terms of executive power. That is not to say, however, that his populist rhetoric has failed to make an imprint on Dutch politics. Mr. Wilders’ hard-right campaign against European integration, Islam and ethnic groups brought him as far as holding a position of de facto governing power when the PVV served as the supporting party for the 2010 minority coalition of the Dutch Conservative Party (VVD) and Christian Democrats (CDA). Today, Mr. Wilders’ 15 seats in the Dutch lower chamber still see him represent 10% of the total population. Far more problematically, Mr. Wilders’ influence has pulled the Conservative Party (VVD) closer to demagoguery and xenophobia, and has successfully normalized anti-EU, anti-immigrant, and nationalist discourse in Dutch politics.
But for all the negativity that has surrounded the Dutch midterm elections, their outcome also holds the promise of a reversal in the populist trend of the past 10 years. Mr. Wilders’ speech has provoked public outrage among the Dutch, leading one PVV parliamentarian to cut all ties with the party on Thursday afternoon. As of Thursday night, over a thousand Dutchmen have reported Mr. Wilders’ discriminatory remarks to the police. Perhaps even more promisingly, Prime Minister Rutte (VVD), finally collapsing under the weight of party elders and European peers, announced late Thursday night that he has ruled out the possibility of forming a coalition government with Mr. Wilders if he maintains his views.
Finally, Democrats 66 (D66), the only Dutch party that has consistently refused to accept the Mr. Wilders’ brand of populism as tolerable political practice, emerged from the local elections as the undisputed victor, becoming the largest party in three of The Netherlands’ most populous cities: Amsterdam, The Hague, and Utrecht. The progressive centrists of D66-leader Alexander Pechtold will seek to translate this local power to a widening influence on a national and European scale. To a large extent, the Dutch reputation for religious tolerance depends on how successful Pechtold is in meeting his challenge.
FELIX KLOS '14 is from Hilversum, The Netherlands
(04/09/14 4:39pm)
In light of Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the calamitous threat posed by Vladimir Putin’s regime to the global order, we cannot lose sight of what an overreaction would do to America. If we allow Neo-Cold War ideology to drive American foreign policy and reshape our domestic economic and political institutions towards serving military purposes — the so called “Military Industrial Complex” — we will put at risk not only our international authority, but we, the United States, may pose a threat to global stability rivaling that of Putin. In the words of the esteemed English historian A.J.P. Taylor, “The great armies, accumulated to provide security and preserve the peace, carried the nations to war by their own weight.”
Paul Ryan’s newly released budget proposal would represent a return to Bush-era military funding, reversing the military spending cuts initiated by the sequestration. It seeks to revive the U.S. war machine in a time of peace. In order to avoid escalation with Russia, it may be more important for the world that the U.S. elects “doves” than Democrats in the 2014 and 2016 elections.
Russia’s recent acts of aggression are not only concerning in themselves, but provide rhetorical ammunition for war-mongers to call into question the timing of the military drawbacks initiated by the sequestration. These facts will likely be spun by pundits and “hawk” politicians into the simplistic narrative that while Moscow grows stronger, we cannot be seen as weak and therefore we must ramp up military funding. We, the educated public, should be deeply skeptical of such claims.
The truth is our military already has the capacity to defeat any state. Increasing military spending will not make us more secure and should be a policy of last resort. Harsh economic sanctions, energy diplomacy and multilateral cooperation with allies remain our best strategies for deterring Russian aggression and avoiding conflict.
We must be aware of the risks posed by our own state, over which the public has little control in times of war. Since World War II our government has covertly overthrown countless regimes, fueled war by supplying weapons to states around the world and unilaterally initiated conflict. This, in turn, fed a negative feedback cycle of increased military funding. U.S. militarization represents an existential threat to international peace and the health of our democracy.
The recent overhaul of Russian offensive capabilities, despite Russian economic stagnation, suggests a new vision for Russian foreign policy in which its offensive military capacity will play a defining role. In light of Putin’s apparent belief in Russia’s manifest destiny to reclaim the territories lost during the collapse of the U.S.S.R., these developments are very concerning to states around the world, especially the former U.S.S.R., whose independence we should defend. Nonetheless, building allegiances with non-aligned states may be the best deterrence to Moscow’s aggression. If we are to make new allies, our authority in countering Russian aggression must be based on trust, soft power and democratic accountability, not just military strength.
The risks associated with increasing military spending are largely internal: increasing the influence of private military contractors could threaten our commitment to institutionalized conflict resolution and pacifism, thereby undermining our moral high ground over Russia. The recent Supreme Court ruling McCutcheon v. F.E.C. has gone beyond Citizens United in liberalizing campaign spending, expanding the latitude of defense contractors to lobby government efforts. We are likely to see a flood of campaign funding intended to move the political needle, among both Democrats and Republicans, towards increasing defense spending.
We must beware the influence of these glorified mercenaries, whose interests are not aligned with those of America. The empowerment of our increasingly privatized defense sector, who will profit greatly from conflict, represents the greatest potential accelerant to escalation with Russia — or any other enemy.
Russian coercion of the Ukrainian state by raising energy prices foreshadows an era of global energy diplomacy in which the expansion of domestic fracking and other energy infrastructure investments, like Keystone XL, may be increasingly justified if the U.S. is to compete with Russian oil reserves. Though liquefied natural gas is years away from being export-ready, the ability of the U.S. to offer subsidized energy to Russia’s neighbors to withstand a potential oil embargo or balance our budget may prove more valuable than an extra fleet of F-16s and, to some, justify the catastrophic climate impact of increasing fossil fuel extraction. We should expect to be faced with no good options; we must weigh accelerating climate change by expanding our energy capacity against the long-term impact on health of the planet. We need to foster open, thoughtful, public debate about the trade-offs of these looming, painful decisions. It only stands to reason that those most vulnerable to climate change, fracking and pipeline construction will be forced to shoulder the costs of an energy arms race. We must keep them — and the health of our planet as a whole — in mind. Seeking alliances with energy-rich countries like Venezuela, Azerbaijan and even Iran, despite the unsavory and corrupt regimes in power, may be necessary. On a brighter note, investments in promising innovations in renewable energy may become increasingly important for national security. Bearing in mind the strategic importance of such decisions, we must hold our government accountable lest we lose our national character in the fog of war.
Projections about what may happen in the coming years are purely speculative. Indeed, I hope that fears of Russian aggression are overblown. Nonetheless, pacifism, the development of alliances and the institutional resolution of disputes must triumph over military escalation if we are to avoid the worst.
It is not Putin, but the fear of our own weakness, that poses the greatest threat to American democracy, to the environment and to the stable and prosperous international status quo. We must stand up against war until the United States is left with no other option but to respond with force. In the words of the French philosopher and activist Simone Weil, “The great error of nearly all studies of war... has been to consider war as an episode in foreign policies, when it is an act of interior politics.” If the will of the American people is tested with the temptation of false security and the fleeting glory of war, we must steadfastly demand peace.
(04/09/14 4:35pm)
We’re proud to announce beyond the green. Launching today, beyond the green is a collective of voices that will be represented in an online publication as the centralized location of our voices. beyond the green aims to provide space for voices that are not being heard on our campus. We chose the name, beyond the green, as a play on words: part of the Middlebury mission statement says that “the college also reaches far beyond the Green Mountains... [connecting] our community to other places, countries and cultures.” To us, beyond the green represents the need to express a multitude of experiences at Middlebury that transcend physical space; the need to go beyond the agenda of Middlebury Inc.; and the need to imagine a space beyond “the campus green” which symbolically embodies institutional initiatives.
We will also publish a weekly column in the Campus. We think it is important to also publish in the Campus because we want to provide a counter-narrative directly alongside opinion pieces that promote post-racial, post-feminist, neoliberal politics. While we hope to carve out a consistent column in the Campus that represents opinions aligning with our politics, we must draw support from our online publication in order to do this. the Campus continues to be an important site of engagement, but we are creating our own publication because the Campus cannot provide enough space for our opinions without taking on our politics. We are also publishing in the Campus because we want the Middlebury College archives to document our opinions. Moreover, the Campus is a good way to advertise our efforts.
beyond the green: collective of middlebury student voices is a student run publication that aims to provide space for voices that are not being heard on our campus. We are motivated to create beyond the green because we feel marginalized and silenced by the mainstream platforms available, including the student newspaper, the Campus, and the online alternative paper, Middbeat. For some of us, not being able to express ourselves without invalidation represents a double marginalization, as our voices, bodies and experiences are already simultaneously devalued and hypervisible. We want to be proactive, not reactive, and use writing as a way to support and ultimately achieve structural and institutional change. We feel as though individually our voices are often ignored in the face of the hegemonic Middlebury discourse, but collectively we will be able to engage with the Middlebury community more effectively.
As a collective, beyond the green is grounded by politics that are radical, anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-classist, anti-ableist, and anti-homophobic (as well as strongly opposed to all forms of oppression). We reject the structurally neoliberal paradigm that exists at Middlebury and also oppose the “liberal” politics often expressed in the Campus because these politics are not transformative. The reasons behind our formation are many, but the predominate one is a feeling that our politics are alienated within campus dialogue; the so-called free market of ideas on campus is an illusion, one which exists only to support one strong ideology. Within our collective, we may not always agree, and we will allow space to challenge each other; however, ultimately we share the same principles and intentions and are committed to moving forward on this ground with solidarity and purpose. Moreover, we acknowledge the potential and probability that the articles we publish may be messy and emotional because the things we write about will be so close to our lived experiences. Rather than espousing the idea that all written work in the public eye must be detached and hyper-intellectual, we welcome the fact that our articles will be written with passion, with love, with anger and overall, with purpose. Instead of engaging only with those who devalue our voices, experiences and values, we are creating our own platform, unifying in the face of this disregard and rejecting the idea that we must conform to the dominant Middlebury narrative and forum.
beyond the green will be accepting submissions on a rolling basis that align with our mission statement. If you would like to contact or submit to this publication please email us at beyondthegreen14@gmail.com. We will be accepting pieces of writing (poetry, creative non-fiction, mini-essay, rants, lists, stories, commentary on campus events or “real world” topics, etc.) as well as photographs, video blogs, artwork (if already scanned) and event submissions. Check out our website at go/beyondthegreen, which will be updated weekly with regular columns (please contact if you would like to be a regular contributor) and submissions.
(04/09/14 4:29pm)
On April 2, a motley crew of professors, students and local denizens came together to share in a discussion titled “Acting Righteously in Times of Danger.”
The event sought to spark conversation regarding two key questions: “When others are threatened in times of danger, what is it that moves us to act courageously on their behalf and risk our own safety and those closest to us?” and “How do we foster tolerance, understanding, empathy and courage?”
To help guide the exploration of such nebulous — and fundamental — questions, the audience was first given an exceptional anecdote from the film “Two Who Dared,” whose chosen center is on Martha and Waitstill Sharp, two Americans “who played a vital role in saving hundreds from persecution during World War II.” As one might expect, any literal comparison between the Sharps’ life and that of most Middlebury students would be unfair.
However, when attention turned towards the values that guided the Sharps, an enlightening and applicable conclusion was reached. As one of the older participants said, “If Middlebury students want to spread the values they hold dear, they must first devote themselves to those ideals in the day-to-day, the mundane. This isn’t a new thought, but it is underappreciated.”
The Sharps’ lives were, above all else, defined by an unwavering devotion to virtue. In “Two Who Dared,” one of the main points of emphasis was that Waitstill and Martha Sharp were the 18th choice for relief volunteers. The 17 previous ministers declined for understandable reasons: young children, a job and a stable life. The Sharps were different. Waitstill often used the word “must” while describing why he and Martha made the decision to go on both of the two missions, the first to Prague and the second to Southern France during the German invasion. They had two young children, a stable job and a stable life, yet Waitstill continued to use that decisive word. The discussion group had some trouble with this — why must they leave their children? Why must they give up their lives when there were those who were better equipped?
One attendee saw the reasoning to be simple, remarking, “It’s a matter of holding true to your virtues. It seemed as though they — Waitstill especially — didn’t see a choice. If they didn’t live by the idea of absolute equality in every action then they just couldn’t be equipped to create equality.”
Although this sentiment did not hit home with some in the room — seeing as much of the space was filled with mothers and fathers — many believed it could very well be the Sharps’ perspective. In either case, Waitstill and Martha had an undeniable impact. During these two tours, the Sharps helped over one hundred refugees find safety and security, and were “recognized by the state of Israel as Righteous Among the Nations for risking their lives to save Jews and dissidents during the Holocaust.”
The Sharps’ story is an extreme one. Leaving one’s children in their most formative years for a potentially life-threatening mission is not something most parents feel they “must do.” It is certainly not something any student can fully appreciate at this point in their lives. As such, much of the conversation turned towards the realm of moral take-aways rather than literal ones. The take-away: it is the little choices we make every day that create real change, not implausible end goals.
Seeing as the College’s Board of Trustees have outwardly lauded the College as the first global liberal arts institution, it seems as though its students would be some of the best at enacting sweeping change.
But one student solemnly asked, “How can we consider ourselves to be the best equipped if many of us don’t stand by the virtues of equality and fairness when we don’t respect something as small as peer proctoring?”
For a student, one of the most common “little choices” is to respect the tradition of peer proctoring. Although it may not seem comparable to the idea of gender equality, for example, it is less a matter of the topic and more about the fundamental value driving any sort of change.
As Lecturer in Religion and GSFS Maria Hatjigeorgiou stated after the discussion, “Even at a school like Middlebury, the most important class is that of the students ‘walking the walk.’”
That is to say, it is not enough to learn what equality is; it must also practice such virtues on a day-to-day and moment-to-moment basis. To this sentiment, Adrian Leong ’16 added, “Being virtuous does not have to be known all the time: we delude ourselves to think that until a grand goal is reached, our efforts are without worth.”
By the conclusion of the discussion and event as a whole, a consensus of sorts was reached. Students at the College, like all students, teachers and human beings, are shaped by our daily interactions with the world. Although something as uncelebrated as taking peer proctoring seriously is not “acting righteously in a time of danger,” it equips students to spark just as much change as any class or peer-proctored exam.
(03/19/14 5:16pm)
Friends with benefits. All of those words individually sound so nice. Friendship, that’s awesome. And benefits, who doesn’t want those? Yet somehow, often, these situations don’t end up working out as perfectly as people initially plan. At a place like Middlebury, with the “work hard, play hard, then work harder” environment we have, many people don’t have time for dating. But that certainly doesn’t mean that people don’t want to play, if you catch my drift. Yet, as many people realize by their second semester at Midd, random Saturday night hookups only get you so far. While the first one or two might feel really exhilarating, and afterwards you can tell people how “college” your Saturday night was, after a while it begins to lose its appeal. And also, nine times out of ten, the hook up isn’t really ever that great. It’s messy and drunk and awkward and the next morning you wake up as early as possible to avoid any and all conversation.
So many people find that a solution is friends with benefits. None of the pressure of dating, but all of the fun of hooking up with someone you know. But, trysts that are “No relationships, no emotions, just sex” as Mila Kunis so eloquently states in “Friends with Benefits,” are very hard to come by. In the end, there is always some sort of miscommunication.
I remember my first time trying out friends with benefits. Late into freshman year, I hooked up with this guy I knew, same friend group and what not. I knew he was a player, but he was hot, so I figured as long as I kept my expectations exceedingly low, there would be no issues. And then we hooked up again. And then we started hooking up on weekdays. Sober. In the afternoon. And, while all my girl friends insisted that this was totally the beginning of a relationship, I knew deep down that it wasn’t. We were friends, and we would talk before and after sex. But the purpose of the hang out was strictly sex. The only problem was that we were not on the same page at all. I figured we were hooking up exclusively; he didn’t. And it all blew up one night when we were at Atwater and I walked in on him hooking up with some random girl. After a night of drunken fighting, fight sex, and subsequent sober conversation we both realized how much we assumed about the other person’s impressions on the hookup. It’s amazing— you’d think that the fact that being friends and having sex without the pressures of dating would mean that you could be really open with what you want. But for some reason, in friends with benefits, people seem even more afraid to be honest. No one wants to be the one who’s more into the relationship, and yet no one wants to be a “douche” or a “bitch”, especially if you risk screwing up the friendship.
So what are Middkids to do? Dating can be great, but also time consuming and stressful, and for people looking for something less serious but still sexually gratifying, friends with benefits is there….a much better option than random DFMO’s (Dance Floor Make Outs) turned random one night stands. And they are. As long as they are done properly. After the first round failure with “sex friends”, I made a second attempt, and this one ended much less dramatically. We had been good friends for a while, and after hooking up a few times, just talked about how we wanted it to be very casual, and only when it was convenient for both of us. We also were much more open about what we wanted from sex, how we wanted to experiment and new things we wanted to try, which made it a lot more fun! And I think, the most important aspect to making “no strings attached” situations work is this: Not every day. Once a weekend, or every other weekend, definitely. But when you start getting into everyday hookups, you enter a dangerous gray territory. Only venture there if you really don’t care about getting hurt, or if you are a big risk taker. As I see it, friends with benefits should be a no-stress, no-nonsense hookup with someone you can trust. Don’t make it out to be more or less than it is.
(03/19/14 4:51pm)
For those of you who were worried (probably just our #1 most devoted fan, Izzy’s grandpa): we’re officially back baby.
Maddie has resurrected from her gastro gravestone and joined Izzy once again for their half-marathon training. After a beautiful rendition of Baby Come Back to Me, a.k.a. a Vanessa Hudgens Baby V original, performed by Izzy, Maddie was ceremoniously reunited with her running shoes and made a triumphant return. In absurdly irresponsible fashion, she recommenced her training with a six mile run. Six miles, people! Izzy was unsupportive, but realized it was time to remove the metaphorical training wheels (yolo). In an act of some pragmatism, Maddie did indeed organize emergency contacts in case she did not make it. She warned Izzy before she left, “If my bloop hasn’t moved on your Find My Friends application for more than five minutes, call 911.” All in all, the run (walk?) went great as she only had a few close calls with asthma attacks.
Within the next 12 hours, the town of Middlebury experienced an absolute tundra, vaguely reminiscent of the brilliantly made dramatic film, “The Day After Tomorrow,” starring world-renowned DILF (if unfamiliar, hit up urban dictionary) Dennis Quaid and everybody’s favorite gay cowboy, Jake Gyllenhal. Although this dramatic turn in weather events may have kept some trainees at bay, we managed to get our hearts racing by bringing back a favorite childhood activity: sledding (also known to us as a hill workout). Departing Battell at the strike of midnight, Maddie and Izzy trekked through the gale-force winds to campus’s prime sledding locale: Mead Chapel hill. You might be doubting how strenuous the physical activity actually was, but considering how many times we got blown over by the wind we were basically doing multiple sets of burpies.
After a close-call with frost bite, we decided to take our next workout indoors with an hour-long yoga session. It should come as no surprise to you that we had no idea what we were doing, so we enlisted Izzy’s FYC (first-year counselor) who doubles as a yoga instructor (shoutout to Staci Hill) for advice. She recommended vinyasa or chaturanga. Completely bewildered, we turned to our beloved friend, Youtube for help. We hit a brief dilemma when we searched chimichanga instead of chaturanga, but regardless, we were ready to yoga (is that a verb?). Thirty seconds into the video after the apparently “essential” deep breathing, we hit an even bigger obstacle. Apparently, being flexible is a crucial component to successfully downward doggying? Incapable of touching our toes, we struggled to maintain proper poses in Maddie’s 184 square foot dorm room. We ultimately failed at the end of the video when we were instructed to lay on our backs with our palms open for a few deep breaths. Practically asking us to fall asleep, that is exactly what we did. Looks like Maddie isn’t the only self-diagnosed narcoleptic!
In the words of James Franco a.k.a. Alien from Spring Breakers “It’s [almost] spraaang break!” If you are heading to a tropical location take advantage of the outdoors and take some romantic long walks on the beach. And if you are staying in the cold, well then we are just so sorry. Enjoy the tundra!
(03/19/14 4:05pm)
Alexander Twilight Hall — the austere brick building separating the town from Middlebury College — is named for Alexander Twilight, the 1823 Middlebury College graduate who is known today as the first American black college graduate.
Today, Twilight is widely touted as an example of Middlebury’s rich legacy of inclusivity and racial diversity.
But who exactly was Alexander Twilight? Was he really the first black man at Middlebury?
The answer to that question is more complicated than it might first appear.
Twilight was born in 1795 in Corinth, Vt. His father was a free mulatto named Ichabod Twilight who fought in for the Union in the American Revolution, thereby earning his freedom.
While slave plantations were unique to southern states, slavery was nonetheless widespread in New England in the 18th century.
While Vermont nominally prohibited slavery in 1777, the indenture of blacks continued for decades.
Despite early state legislation, Vermont businessmen seized on the imprecise wording of the statute — which guaranteed that no adult be indentured — to exploit young black individuals for labor. Accordingly, Alexander Twilight became an indentured servant as a young man.
Some scholars see the practice as selective slavery, whereas others view it as a system of apprenticeship meant to provide social welfare to impoverished and disenfranchised blacks.
“Children frequently were indentured to a neighbor to learn a craft or a skill,” explained Middlebury College Associate Professor of History Bill Hart.
Whether labeled “slavery” or “apprenticeship,” Alexander Twilight’s indentured farm work prevented him from going to school as a young man. However, he worked for wages on the weekends and was able to earn his freedom a year early.
At 20, Twilight enrolled in the Orange County Grammar School in Randolph, Vt., where he undertook an accelerated course of study. He spent five years there before enrolling at Middlebury as a third-year student.
When Twilight was admitted, Middlebury administrators did not know that he was black. In fact, few acquaintances of Twilight knew of his ancestry at all.
“Throughout his lifetime we can not find evidence to suggest that he identified as [black],” Hart said.
In fact, most who knew him assumed Twilight was white. Twilight’s apparent ‘whiteness,’ however, was not always readily accepted. An initial census listed his family as, “‘all other free persons except Indians not taxed by the government,’’’ Hart said. ‘”All other free people’ could mean free blacks, unaffiliated Indians, [or] mixed race people.”
In every census from 1810 onward, the Twilights are listed as white.
The reason for this switch is likely the absence of Alexander’s father Ichabod from the family picture.
Ichabod’s fate is not known for certain, but scholars believe he passed away when Alexander was a young boy. When the census examiners returned in 1810, he no longer lived with the rest of the Twilight family.
Twilight’s mother was a ‘quadroon,’ or a quarter black, so Twilight was reclassified as white. This characterization followed him for the rest of his life.
“He neither embraced nor rejected his racial identity,” Hart said.
“The fact that he was mixed-race added another obstacle,” explained Peggy Day Gibson, the director of the Old Stone House Museum — the site of a school for which Twilight was headmaster from 1829 to his death in 1857, in a 2013 statement. The obstacle was smaller, she asserted, “because he could pass for white.”
In the years after Twilight’s matriculation from the College, race became an increasingly controversial issue across New England.
In the 1820’s and the 1830’s, the Second Great Awakening precipitated the emergence of a number of social movements in New England, including abolitionism.
Early abolitionists fell into three primary categories: immediatists, who argued for the immediate abolition of slavery and incorporation of black people into the republic, gradualists, who advocated a gradual process of integration, and colonizationists, who thought that free blacks should establish new settlements in Africa.
At Middlebury, Colonization theory predominated. The American Colonization Society was formed in 1816 with the principal objective of establishing a black Republic in Liberia. Benjamin Labaree, Middlebury’s fourth president, was a vocal colonizationist who served as the President of the Vermont Auxiliary Colonization Society.
In the years after Twilight, Labaree and other Middlebury students and faculty debated the merits of colonizationism and the future role of black people in American society.
In exceptional instances, by the early 19th century elite mulattos began to infiltrate the overwhelmingly homogeneous institutions of New England.
In 1826, Edward Jones, a prominent mulatto from Charleston, S.C., and John Brown Russwurm, a Jamaican-born black man, graduated from Amherst College and Bowdoin College, respectively. A West-Indian born black man named Edward Mitchell was admitted to Dartmouth in 1824 after pressure from students, and became Dartmouth’s first black graduate in 1828.
Jones, Russwurm and Mitchell were all publicly mixed-race at their graduations, unlike Alexander Twilight.
By the 1830’s, however, abolitionists were clamoring for wider racial acceptance.
In 1845, Middlebury, Dartmouth, Williams, Amherst and the University of Vermont each received recommendations for four black prospective students from Philadelphia. They all rejected the applicants.
In justifying his assertion that, “Middlebury is not designed especially for the colored race,” Middlebury President Labaree couched his argument in geography. “Middlebury is not inclined particularly to encourage negroes from all parts of the country to resort here for education,” but, “Colored young men in Vt. and States adjacent, who would naturally fall to us, we will cheerfully receive.”
Despite Labaree’s argument for the prioritization of local students, white students came from a number of states, including Pennsylvania.
Reverend Mitchell, a colonizationist pastor in Rutland, helped Labaree respond to allegations of inconsistency by writing a letter of recommendation for nineteen-year old black Rutland resident, Martin Freeman. Seizing on the opportunity to shore up Middlebury’s reputation in the anti-slavery community, Labaree chose to accept Freeman.
Unlike Alexander Twilight’s admission, Freeman’s admission was well-publicized and controversial. Despite his self-professed unease at the all-white school, Freeman excelled at Middlebury and became class salutatorian when he graduated in 1849.
After Freeman graduated he emigrated to Liberia, joining Amherst’s Jones and Bowdoin’s Russwurm in fulfilling early colonizationists’ aspirations to send educated black Americans back to Africa.
For decades after Freeman, only a handful of black students — no more than one per year — were admitted to the College. Among those admitted was Middlebury’s first black female student, Mary Annette Anderson, who graduated in 1899. The prestigious Bronx School of Science contributed many of Middlebury’s black matriculants in the early 20th century.
In 1962, The Campus published an editorial warning the college administration that “an absence of Negroes during the current revolution in race relations would be a grave deficiency in any college.”
It was not until the galvanization of the Civil Rights movement in the late 1960’s and the pivotal assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. that the number of black students at Middlebury slowly began to rise.
The Campus published an article in 1965 headlined “20 Negroes Apply for Admission to Class of ’69” that celebrated the sharp increase in black applications to Middlebury — up from a single application just three years earlier.
In 1970, Middlebury created a “Dean of Diversity” position, and fifteen years later created a diversity panel called “The Twilight Committee.”
Concomitant with increases in the admission of blacks at Middlebury in the 1960’s and 1970’s came increased scrutiny of Middlebury’s past racial history.
Alexander Twilight’s story was virtually unknown until 1971, when an edition of the Middlebury College newsletter featured an article about “the first black American college graduate — Alexander Lucius Twilight class of 1823.”
The timing rediscovery of Alexander Twilight’s blackness was no accident.
Following the Civil Rights movement, Amherst College asserted that Edward Jones, Amherst class of 1826, had been the first black college graduate in America. Not to be outdone, Middlebury College historians dredged up old census data to indicate that Alexander Twilight had been the nation’s first college graduate — despite his ambiguous racial identity whilst a student at Middlebury.
Owing to Twilight’s undisclosed racial identity as a student, his admission graduation was not monumental during his lifetime as it is now — for all intents and purposes, he was just another free ‘white’ man graduating from a small liberal arts school.
Middlebury is not alone among academic institutions in its revisionist evaluation of racial history. An article published in the New York Times last Sunday headlined “New Contenders Emerge in Quest to Identify Yale’s First African-American Graduate” describes the messy and imprecise process of identifying early college graduates on the basis of tenuous racial associations.
Admissions policies at Middlebury and other institutions shifted widely due to changing leadership and shifting perspectives on race in America.
The legacy of Twilight and other early black college graduates remains relevant today, as Middlebury continues to attempt to create a racially diverse student body.
In 2005, a Middlebury College Task Force on the Composition of the Student Body outlined a goal of “increase[ing] the number of U.S. students of color who graduate to 15 percent within six years.”
In 2012, only 5.4 percent of the members of Middlebury’s freshman class were black. In 2012, the percentages of black students in freshman the classes at both Williams College and Wesleyan University were more than double Middlebury’s percentage.
Middlebury’s racial landscape is still shifting. As the College continues to strive for a diverse student body in the future, a nuanced and critical reflection on both the shortcomings and the successes of Middlebury’s racial history is necessary to form an appropriate plan for Middlebury’s future.
(03/19/14 3:45pm)
I love to be alone. There is something so valuable about solitude, something so unique and singular, that I make a point to find it wherever I can. If I can find time to be alone, then that day is a success. Eating lunch by myself is the very least of the ways I can find solitude. I walk into town by myself, spend time with my thoughts at one of the cafés in town, and sit for hours in the Grille with nothing but a book for company. These moments are irreplaceable.
As is probably clear, I am an introvert. I gain energy from solitude and feel exhausted by social interaction. Going out on a weekend is overwhelming and often emotionally taxing. I don’t just like being alone, I need it for my mental health.
However, I am convinced that the benefits of solitude are not exclusive to introverts. Those who feel most at home surrounded by crowds of people could find time alone to be just as profound as I do. If we eliminate the common perception of solitude as unnatural and daunting, then the advantages become apparent for everyone.
The reason why people are so averse to the idea of being alone is that it is associated with feelings of loss and aimlessness. Solitude forces you to confront the situation of having no one around, no one to support you and talk to you, no one to respond to you. There’s nothing to externalize your thoughts. Instead, being alone creates an entirely self-contained sphere in which nothing exists except your own mind. And this is frightening. You involuntarily inspect your thoughts far more than usual, as every conversation is one-sided. Without the direction of others, you are forced to decide for yourself.
In other words, you have to trust yourself, and this is often difficult.
So, when we’re alone we feel this perceived loss of the people we normally surround ourselves with. But the truth is that aloneness is not the same as loneliness. There is no loss involved with solitude. It is simply the acceptance of you as the only actor within a certain moment.
When I find solitude, I feel separate, as if civilization continues around me, but I simply stepped aside and let it go. Nothing affects me. My worries fall away and leave me clear-headed and aware. I notice more without the distractions of others. In the aimlessness of being alone, I feel free to wander. To be without a goal is liberating. It allows me to focus more on where I am, where I am going, who I am and what I think.
When I walk into town or around campus by myself, I am truly not focused on anything else but the world around me. I notice the feeling of the air entering my lungs, the sound of birds calling and the wind rushing past my ears.
To step away—that is the ultimate benefit that solitude allows. The isolation from others insulates you from the chaos of social life. It enables you to sit in quiet, even if loud noises surround you. This is the quiet that comes when your mind is the only source of information, when no other stimuli are influencing your thoughts. This is the quiet that comes from acknowledging your existence as an individual.
We must detach our concept of loneliness from that of solitude. They are two very different concepts. The first is what we feel when we have lost someone, when that someone is gone for a significant amount of time. Solitude, on the other hand, has no loss attached to it. There is nothing to fear from being alone, because it is merely temporary. We fear solitude for those moments we might miss with friends, but as a result we forget about the most fundamental relationship we have: us with ourselves, our thoughts, our minds.
I seek moments alone because they give me clarity. They let me feel singular, apart, like an individual. They make me accept myself, and I invariably feel revived and enlightened. I believe we should all seek solitude for as little as a few minutes every so often. Maybe then we can recognize ourselves, who we are, and what really matters in our lives.
Artwork by JENA RITCHEY
(03/19/14 3:44pm)
Automatic Problematic
This professor’s eyeballs are about to pop out of her head in front of this surly discussion section. She wants you to find what is problematic. Oh honey! What isn’t!? Moby Dick is problematic. The Help is problematic. Jezebel should be more problematic. Your polyester Navajo booty shorts. Your paper coffee cup. Your non-fair-trade coffee. The fair trade system. Mother Teresa. Beyoncé.
Compare your problematics to mine. Are we all on the same page? Former disenfranchisement will never let you go. Walk a mile in my shoes. Give me my shoes back; what do you know about Girldom anyways? You feeling oppressed today? You feeling a little vomit-y today? You feeling that wealth gap guilt? Non-disabled guilt? White guilt? Male guilt? Youth guilt? American guilt? Are you an ally? Are you a minority? How is that apple going down now that you know it was plucked by migrant farm workers? You better not choke on your words, there are innocents in jail. Was that politically correct? Tell your girlfriend that we are post-Feminism.
Stillettos=Barbie=empowerment=date rape? Does this follow the model? “Third World” is an outdated term. We live in a melting pot. Mosaic. Human stew of flailing parts. She has permission to use the N-word. He does not have permission to use the C-word. Squeeeeeze that boiling hot slime of the Automatic Problematic into my special tank, and we’ll rocket to the moon. On the moon, everyone does their readings, and no one uses buzzwords. We are critical listeners, not underinformed reactionaries. On the moon, we are still angry, and life is still unfair, but when we finally decide to speak, slowly and clearly and thoughtfully through the tiny transistor radio back to earth, we will say, “Let’s take a quick dance break.”
Grounded Wires Through Girl Rooms
Have you ever seen a person like me stomp around her room looking for something to wear? The number of kilowatts of horror that can be reflected off a mirror is enough to power a treadmill. Listen to the wasted energy of tugging shirt sleeves and pant zippers, full body twisting to see from behind, picking at holes, rubbing at stains, fluffing hair, kicking off shoes, hurling dresses to the floor. Extended roommate conferences on what looks Baldessari Right (yoga amphetamine chic) and what looks Baldessari Wrong (magenta, your hips in those jeans). Give me one girl who hates her arms and a couple ratty sweaters and I’ll have enough sickened electricity to toast a thousand pieces of bread. But no need, she’s skipping breakfast.
Collecting Pools of Crush Eyes
I fell in love with a girl last Thursday. Was completely smitten for at least fifteen minutes, and then it was gone and I felt okay again. The next day, I fell in love with the Co-op checkout boy for thirty-six seconds. I hardly ever sleep with the people I love, which is very sad, but very important. This isn’t your I-love-you love, this isn’t your mama’s love, but boy, is it no less potent, no less intimate. It’s an untapped gold mine, really, how rarely we use that energy from sources unknown and inexhaustible to actually keep someone close, how often it dies down, unspent, as you move out of each other’s path. Think of what we could gain from of all those unrequited passing shivers! We have a whole pool of trembling feels to dip into, a reserve of heat that floods through us despite all our politeness. Some sort of giant sponge might do the trick. Think of possibilities of irrigation, the innovations in light production, the greenhouses we could operate solely on the energy of our double-takes!
Harnessing Ambient Judgement
This comes from all of us, hanging low in the undersea rodeo, circling each other. I’m a coward, and these are the gross indulgences I ride. Is there a name for the stomach drop that comes with stumbling over a sentence, with saying something tactless or strange, something that makes everyone turn away from you and continue their conversation with anyone who isn’t you? And then the scramble, the excuse, the apology, the desperate attempt to brush it off, take it back, reassert your normalness. Three months ago, in the vitriolic heat sparked undoubtedly from miscommunication, my mother looked me dead in the face and asked me if I had Asperger’s. I wasn’t hurt or angry — I was taken aback. Maybe I do, I thought, pausing to consider if it felt right, if it felt thirst-quenching, nourishing. It didn’t. My psychiatrist thinks I have acute anxiety. My friends from home think I have a superiority complex. My ex-boyfriend thinks I’m trying too hard. My sister thinks it’s narcissism. I think I have ADD. My roommate thinks I’m a paranoid hypochondriac. Here’s what I suggest: whiplash your diagnoses together and tie them around your frame. Coil the symptoms into a helmet, pad your shins with the thinks. Now you’re twice your size wearing armor built from everyone’s book reports on “The Sad Story of Me.” You are neon and sparking and leaking battery fluid. Hoist yourself on a donkey, or some sort of trusty steed, maybe your bike, and point yourself towards the sunrise over the hill. Maybe stop to take a picture with your phone and while you’re at it, look up the definition of the word “quixotic.” We all look like fish out of water. Charge on regardless.
Artwork by CHARLOTTE FAIRLESS
(03/19/14 3:16pm)
The stories we tell ourselves about our own past are the result of hundreds of voices — both named and otherwise — coming together to paint a picture. Each voice has its own volume and each listener comes with their own biases, so these pictures of our past are just that: only pictures. As time marches on, the quieter or disenfranchised voices fall to the side, and it falls on our shoulders to seek out these stories in order to better understand the past.
On April 9, Middlebury students will put on “Voices of the People’s History of the United States,” reading passages from historian Howard Zinn’s book filled with letters and speeches by people intimately involved in the social movement history of the United States.
The event is co-produced by Assistant Professor of Sociology Jamie McCallum and Visiting Assistant Professor of Theater Dana Yeaton and is co-sponsored by the history, sociology, political science and English departments and The Oratory Society. It will open with a lecture by Francis Fox Piven, world-renowned sociologist and political scientist of social movements and a longtime friend of Zinn.
“She was invoked by Glenn Beck a few years ago for developing a plan to try and undermine American capitalism,” McCallum said. “He did a multi-part series about it. But her “plot,” so to speak, was actually quite old by that time. She was well-known in the ’60s and ’70s and now she’s famous again, largely because of [Beck] in some weird way.”
While McCallum comes to this event from the stand point of a sociologist, Yeaton hopes to emphasize the performance aspect.
“Last spring, [McCallum] and I worked together on a reading of MLK’s ‘Letter from the Birmingham Jail,’” Yeaton said in an email. “So I was excited when he proposed a follow up project. And because of The Oratory Society, I knew we had students who could bring the speeches to life. These speeches are the definition of theatrical: each one was calibrated, not just to capture and hold attention, but to provoke its audience into action. And of course, it’s a live solo performance, which is always a high-wire act.”
Students will read different stories from the Howard Zinn piece in order to frame the history of American social activism in a way that uses the voices of those directly involved. The book was the primary source companion to Zinn’s book “The People’s History of the United States,” which was written in 1980 to tell the story of the United States through the voices of the common people, not the economic and political elites that often dominate textbooks.
“Because that book ends in the early 21st-century,” McCallum said, “we’ll find a few more things from the last ten years to fill in the gaps. We may add something from Occupy Wall Street such as a speech that was given there.” McCallum added that the program for the event has not been finalized, and that what will be added is not fully known yet.
“There was a student-ran course over J-term called the People’s History of Middlebury that culminated in a panel discussion with two ’70s radicals who were Middlebury students,” he said. “We may have something read from that as well.”
The show is not unique to Middlebury and has been performed countless times throughout the country.
“The reason this show is done so often is that these words — spoken well, with full understanding — have enormous intellectual and emotional power,” Yeaton said. “They rattle us. They remind us of our ideals and our hypocrisies. So I’m excited to be in the room and watch these words hit home.”
The hosts of the event hope, just as Zinn did, to give a voice to those who may not always be heard in a retelling of American history. While history books may focus on the romanticized stories of our Founding Fathers, they often glance over the blood and strife that went into this country’s founding and the fact that many of them were slave-owners. Stories about the struggles of labor movements and civil rights activism often become clouded by the political leanings of those telling them. This event aims to give voices to all involved. The book itself includes selections by people such as Frederick Douglass, Henry David Thoreau, Malcolm X and Allen Ginsberg.
“It’s history from below,” McCallum said. “You could do a people’s sociology of the United States if you wanted to. The benefit of getting those voices is not just that they’re diverse, but people tell truths from their own perspectives and unless you’re getting all of them, you’re not getting the full story.”
The event will take place on April 9 from 7 – 10 p.m. in the Abernethy Room.
(03/19/14 3:00pm)
As I lay tossing and turning last Thursday night in our Omaha hotel, I finally fell into a shallow sleep. Suddenly I was on the line for the 400 meters, in front of thousands of people. The gun had gone off and I was running smoothly. I saw the whole race ahead of me, and with every meter I was growing in confidence. I had passed the top-seeded runner on the final turn and when I dipped my chest over the line I saw 55 seconds flash onto the board. Everything had gone perfectly. And then I woke up. Sometimes our dreams have their happy endings, but many times they do not. It is how we learn to deal with the disappointment that makes us stronger, faster and better.
My dream did not have its happy ending this time. After finally making it to the 2014 NCAA Indoor Track & Field Championships in Lincoln, Nebraska a day late due to snowstorm Vulcan, I could already feel nerves building. This was not my first nationals; I had come last year as a member of a phenomenal distance medley relay team. As a fresh-faced first-year and the 400-meter runner in the relay, I had let the older senior girls take care of me. Now I was alone. As a qualifier for the 400 individually as well as the now 800-meter runner for the distance medley relay, there was no one to hold my hand. I had to deal with the expectations I had created for myself.
I have always considered myself a competitor and never had I been hungrier for a win. But sometimes no matter how driven, how focused, how ready we might feel, fate takes a different direction. Sitting in the bullpen minutes before the race, I was surrounded by sixteen other girls just as hungry as I was and most more experienced. Although there was barely space for us to move, I felt so alone.
Sometimes before even stepping onto the line, I know that I am going to have a bad race. But this was not one of those times, I felt like I had it all in me. But as soon as the gun went off, it just did not click. The girls were too strong and fast right from the start, and as a runner that thrives in the second lap by chasing people down, they were already too far out of my grasp for me to even think that was a reality. I am never in my head during a 400, but this time, the whole second lap I could not stop thinking about how much I had messed up. I had let a great opportunity literally run away from me. Reality does not get much harsher than finishing in dead last place.
I could only weakly hug my mom and my coaches who did their best find the positives in my race. I couldn’t even tell them where it had gone wrong. I had not felt weak, tired, or slow. Sometimes the race just gets the best of you. My teammates knew that no words could make me feel better; they had all been there before. We all have those days, but I was kicking myself that one of those days had to be on the national stage.
The individual nature of track is both my favorite and sometimes the hardest thing about being a runner. Success is solely mine, but so is that failure. When you set such high expectations for yourself, it is hard not to be disappointed. We must take ownership of our actions, and make sure that a loss is not our downfall but rather just one hurdle on the road to greatness. As much as I wanted to beat myself up about what I could have done better, less than three hours later I was running in the distance medley relay – running for three other girls that deserved glory collectively more than I deserved it individually. And receiving All-American honors was a great way to bounce back.
It is so hard to not get in your head, to define yourself based on your latest race. But I came into Middlebury having never run indoor track, never having run under 60 seconds, and unsure how I would be able to prove myself. Going into that Friday race, I should not have lost sight of how much I had accomplished from that starting point. I will always be disappointed with what happened in that race, but I cannot help but be proud of how much I achieved, especially this season, just to be able to be in that 400.
For now, there is nothing to do but move on. I am ready to do anything to earn that spot again on the 400 starting line, this time on the outdoor track. Then, maybe my dream will have its happy ending.
(03/13/14 1:36am)
On the afternoon of Thursday, March 6, members of the Middlebury community gathered in Le Chateau Grand Salon to celebrate the Alison G. Fraker Essay Prize and its nominees. Director of the Program in Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies Professor Sujata Moorti and Director of Chellis House Karin Hanta led the event, at which the winner of the prize was revealed.
Established in 1990 by Drue Cortell Gensler, a member of the class of ‘57 and a Middlebury College trustee, the prize honors the memory of Alison Gwen Fraker ’89.
Fraker was a vocal feminist at Middlebury. She played an instrumental role in the creation of both the Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies department, and a center for women on campus. A few weeks before her graduation in 1989, Fraker was killed in a car accident. Today, both the essay prize and a reading room dedicated to Fraker in Chellis House honor her memory.
In keeping with Fraker’s efforts, the award goes to a student whose essay on a topic specifically concerning women and gender studies is judged best. Professors nominate the works of their students, excluding senior theses, and a committee of rotating professors reads and judges the essays.
Past essays awarded the Alison Fraker Prize have been on topics such as masculinity and Mexican immigration, domesticity in missionary China, and marriage promotion in the urban ghetto.
This year there were 13 nominees for the prize. At the end, there were two honorable mentions, Rebecca Crochiere ’14 and Sarah Champ ’17, and one winner, Anna Flinchbaugh ’14.
Flinchbaugh won the prize with a zine rather than an essay. A zine is comparable to a miniature magazine—a self-published work, usually on a specific subject. In Flinchbaugh’s case, it was gender presentation. Her piece, titled, “Pandrogyny,” was for her Foundations in Gender, Sexuality and Feminist Studies class. Moorti nominated Flinchbaugh.
Flinchbaugh chose to write a zine rather than the traditional essay because it gave her an opportunity to convey her message in a broader way. “I just really loved the possibility that [zines] allowed for incorporating other media, and for incorporating different kinds of voices...With a zine, you can include things that wouldn’t fit within a linear path,” she said.
She added that this allowed her to look at gender studies from different sides, something that she hopes her zine will continue by “open[ing] up a space for that discourse.”
Crochiere earned honorable mention for her essay, “A Woman in a Man’s Arena--A Feminized Performance of Sports.” She wrote the piece for her Intro to Sociology of Gender class and was nominated by her professor, Laurie Essig, for the award.
Speaking about her essay, Crochiere said that she tried to “view how she engaged in sports through a feminist lens,” in the end realizing that she had portrayed a certain kind of femininity throughout her life-long athletic career.
Champ also earned honorable mention for her essay, “Zumba Fitness: Fun or a Perpetuator of Enlightened Sexism and Latina Iconicity?” She wrote her paper for Foundations in Gender, Sexuality and Feminist Studies, one of the first classes Champ had taken on the subject. Moorti also nominated Champ for the prize.
Champ said that she “analyzed something in the media through a feminist lens” for the essay, focusing specifically on “the appropriation of Latina identity and Latina iconicity...with the perspective of enlightened feminism.”
In keeping with Flinchbaugh’s idea to spark conversation, the reception for the Alison G. Fraker Essay Prize was an opportunity for the guests to discuss the essay topics and more. Each presenter said a few words about the nominees, the nominees described their work, and if the professors who nominated the students were there, they spoke up as well.
All who were in attendance left having heard more about gender, sexuality and feminist studies and having paid tribute to Fraker, her memory, and the message she worked hard to send to the Middlebury campus in her time here.
(03/12/14 7:01pm)
I have to admit that when I received my tuition bill I felt guilty. With my parents nearing retirement age, suddenly they have to put me and my twin brother through college. It was not just the price of college I felt guilty about, however. It was the price of Middlebury — my brother’s tuition bill was a little over half of mine. Now, I understand that Middlebury is a prestigious, world-class institution and I understand that that’s expensive to maintain; my point in this article is not a broad discussion about the inflated college price tag. But with the reality of the burden to my family on my back, I set out to find ways to make money.
I found a job as tech support at Children’s Hospital and started working about 40-45 hours per week over the summer. It was long, exceedingly dull, and incredibly tedious. But everyday I swiped in at 8:00 a.m. and swiped out at 5:53 (the first time that counted as 6:00 on the time card). Then I applied to and received several local scholarships from my church, high school, and town committee. By the end of the summer I had generated $7,500 toward my own education.
That is why I was so discouraged when I went to file one of my scholarships for $1,000 and all it did was lower the financial package that the college gave me. My family had turned down the loans because they didn’t want me to graduate with debt, so the scholarship came out of my financial aid package and didn’t help me at all. In order to understand how this works let’s pretend that my family had a total financial aid package of $20,000 after declining all loans. Then, when we filed the $1,000 check with our first deposit of $5,000, my account read that I had a package of $19,000 and that our first payment was $1,000 short. Essentially, my family still had to pay $5,000 despite my outside scholarship, and the college received $6,000 — $5,000 out of our pockets and $1,000 from my scholarship.
This is called the Outside Institutional Aid Policy. It is when the college feels a student has been “over-awarded”. The logic behind it is, as Michael Mclaughlin, director of financial aid operations, puts it: “Since Middlebury meets the full demonstrated need of students as determined by our office, we do not allow outside aid to reduce or replace the expected family contribution.” I understand that Middlebury is expensive, and while we are a rich institution, we do have a limited yearly budget that we can funnel into financial. But this logic also strikes me as distinctly flawed.
My first issue with over-awarding is just the principle of the thing. It prevents students from using one of the onlyw means we have of making money to offset the cost to our parents. Shouldn’t the College be encouraging its student body to contribute to their education? Our brains got us into Middlebury. We should be allowed to use them to lessen the burden on our families rather than working for hours for minimum wage to make the slightest dent in our tuition bills. I don’t see why it should matter to the college where the money comes from.
Secondly, this “full need” strikes me as distinctly arbitrary. First of all, why is my family’s full need at my brother’s school twice what it is at Middlebury? And second, if what Mr. Mclaughlin says is true and “the maximum Perkins or College loan a student will borrow over a 4-year period is $12,000” and it is also true that Middlebury meets full need, then why do I have senior friends graduating with closer to $30,000 of debt?
Thirdly, as I’ve mentioned, I have a twin brother. My parents are paying for two kids’ college educations. Middlebury’s policy for families with another sibling in college, as is apparently the industry standard, is to make my family pay sixty percent of the original parent contribution. Not fifty percent, which would meet full need as they define it, sixty percent. So when it comes down to it, Middlebury is not even meeting my full need in the first place. And still I cannot use outside scholarships to improve my situation.
Finally, if you are on aid, outside scholarships essentially can in no way improve your financial situation, unless you earn more than your grant in scholarships. But if you have no grant, there is nowhere for Middlebury to take the money out of. Therefore, students here who are not on financial aid can benefit from outside scholarships. In other words, the well-off can use scholarships to decrease their tuition, but less wealthy students, who are on aid, cannot.
I’m not saying the college needs to redefine full need, though honestly that wouldn’t be a bad idea. I know that higher education is a tricky business and there are limited funds each year. I’m just saying that they need to give me the chance to add to my family contribution with the only access to significant sums of money I have: outside scholarships. It shouldn’t matter where the money I pay to Middlebury comes from. As it is, I don’t see any point in applying to scholarships this year. But, should I receive a scholarship, and should it be made out to Middlebury, I think this year I’ll tear it up and throw it away, because if I can’t use the money I earned, Middlebury certainly isn’t getting their hands on it.
Artwork by JENA RITCHEY
(03/12/14 6:49pm)
With pricey tutors who teach you to game the system and a strong correlation between income and higher scores (average score rises with every $20,000 of additional family income), the SAT is flawed, and its prestige is falling as the ACT and other options rise in popularity. This week, the College Board announced that it will try to address these problems through scrapping the writing section, focusing on “evidence-based reading and writing,” not penalizing incorrect answers and offering free online test-prep, spurning high-level conversations about the potential efficacy of these changes and the true merit of standardized testing.
Despite these changes, privileged students will still have an unfair leg-up in the testing process and a four-hour test will not always work for all students, regardless of how “college-ready” they are. We must reevaluate how we at Middlebury view testing in the admissions process.
We are already testing-flexible, allowing students to submit either the ACT, the SAT or three SAT IIs in different areas of study. Moreover, we advertise on our website that we are aware of the failings of standardized testing in the admissions process, listing socioeconomic factors, test prep and schooling as outside influences that could change scores.
If we are already discounting the importance of these tests, why are we requiring testing at all? Peer institutions including Bowdoin, Holy Cross, Pitzer and Smith have all elected to be test-optional, finding the same flaws with testing that we account for in our admissions process.
According to the Council for Aid to Education, GPA is across the board a better predictor of college success, even when little is known about a student’s high school, and correlates less with income. GPA shows how hard a student is willing to work, particularly when put into the context of their peers.
After becoming test-optional, Wake Forest found that diversity in the applicant pool rose after they became test optional. A study by the National Association for College Admissions Counseling found that the students not likely to not submit their scores are minorities, women, first generation applicants, Pell Grant recipients and students with learning differences. As we reevaluate our brand and try to attract a wider swath of applicants, it appears becoming test-optional reaches the populations we are working to bring in.
Of course becoming testing-optional limits the amount of information our admissions readers receive about an applicant, but does a four-digit number really reveal as much as we are looking for? We must, therefore, compensate for this dearth of information with a more comprehensive application.
Our current supplement is basic. It asks if you would like to be a Feb., if you are a legacy and what activities and majors you are thinking about. Some of our peer institutions are far more creative. Tufts’ supplement has even helped boost the schools image when the supplement question, “What does #YOLO mean to you?” made national news this summer. Tufts applicants may choose from six essay prompts in an attempt to allow students to show off their best side, from celebrating the role sports plays in their lives to responding to a Virginia Woolf quote through a medium of their choice, with slam poetry, a video, or prose as suggested forms.
An innovative supplement would allow applicants to play to their strengths and highlight what they will bring to the table if accepted to Middlebury, giving us a more holistic view of whom we are admitting. Furthermore, adding a supplement will limit students applying to students who truly want to be here, not just students who throw in an application because it requires minimal effort. This may decrease the applicant pool, but that will only free up capacity within Admissions to spend more time on these additional materials.
While we commend Middlebury for looking outside the on-site interview model as to not disadvantage students who cannot visit, our current model is a missed opportunity with little weight given during the admissions process. We should also find a way to bolster our alumni interview process into something admissions officers can truly use. None of the members of our Editorial Board remember a meaningful alumni interview; this is not a reflection on the people we have interviewing students, rather a reflection of the support Middlebury provides. We can strengthen these interviews by providing more rigorous training or giving a list of questions that sparks productive conversations or solicits the critical engagement that we want from our students in a classroom.
If we are trying to foster a diverse community in all senses of the word, we need to understand that people’s personalities cannot be confined to a bubble filled in with a No. 2 pencil. For some students, testing comes naturally, and by all means they should be able to show that off. But for other students, the application process should reflect the community we foster once they are admitted to Middlebury, one that celebrates an array of talents and skills. A thoughtful supplement that highlights what we value as a community and a more informative interview process could add the additional insight that the Common App cannot provide and attract a student body that brings more to the table than a number.
Artwork by NOLAN ELLSWORTH
(03/12/14 5:20pm)
Ethel* and I met last year at a friend’s birthday party. Life strikes when you least expect. We only shared a few words, but she left enough of an impression that I’d intermittently make small extra efforts to say hi in the dining hall. Beyond that, I let it be. Spring faded.
December came around, and I used this column — as I said I would— as an excuse to ask her out. I picked her up on a snowy evening in a friend’s scruffy Toyota pick-up truck, a grimy ride to a fancy place: Tourterelle.
If you haven’t been, go! Christine and Bill Snell, the owner-chefs, run a fabulous establishment. They serve authentic French cuisine made with local Vermont ingredients. But half of the whole experience is the suave, cozy atmosphere they’ve created in an old country farmhouse. The restaurant isn’t cheap, but the service is flawless and the food is something to write to home about.
I should note, though, that whereas Otter Creek Bakery is a quick and casual spot for a first date, Tourterelle is a bit more of a serious undertaking. Factor in 12 minutes driving each way plus three courses and maybe a digestive coffee, and you’re facing two hours of expository conversation.
Fear not, Ethel and I did it all, and did it smoothly. She told wonderfully entertaining stories; good because her own story is so convoluted. I felt bad laughing at her recent misfortune with frostbite (and I subsequently got frostbitten the next week) but she’d recounted the incident with a very enlightened and comical resignation.
There’s something about being with an elegant woman at a nice place that will get any chump like me sitting up straight and smiling.
On my side of the table, many of the nerves I had to navigate on my previous date with Belinda had dissipated. More comfortable with the inevitable first-date uncertainties, I felt less entangled by the need to react perfectly in each conversational exchange and freer to consider the broader direction of our interaction. In earlier dates, I would only respond to the last thing said. With Ethel, I could remember to ask questions after longish periods of being inevitably side-tracked.
I also felt less concerned about getting everything just right. I tried a self-deprecating joke, the surest way to get an easy laugh, describing my little brother as a natural charmer: “At least someone in our family is good with girls.” Ethel loved that one, maybe a little too much. It was a funny to sit wondering if she was thinking, “It’s funny because it’s true!”
To my experience thus far, the adage that ‘practice makes perfect’ is incompatible with casual first dates. First dates at their finest are a little rough around the edges. Repetition just makes it a little easier to ride out the bumps. So does taking out a girl like Ethel to a place like Tourterelle.
*name changed
Artwork by TAMIR WILLIAMS
(03/12/14 5:02pm)
What do the words “transdisciplinary artist” evoke to you? Last Monday, Heather Dewey-Hagborg, self-described “information artist,” gave a public lecture in the Johnson Memorial Building about how she uses art as an avenue for active inquiry into the ethics of various kinds of modern-day technologies, like wire-tapping and DNA sequencing.
A quick search on the Internet reveals that Dewey-Hagborg is not the kind of artist that works in a studio; she spends her time everywhere except the studio. For her most widely-publicized art project – called “Stranger Visions” – for instance, she collected hair samples and cigarette butts on the streets, performed DNA sequencing in a lab, and appeared on the cover page of the magazine, “Government Technology.”
She nearly had to appear in court as well because, according to the NewScientist.com, she may have broken the law by carrying out genetic testing without the owner’s consent.
However, this is precisely the reason why she is successful: her art exposes people to aspects of technological advancements that they had no idea could be a threat to their privacy at all. Besides the 3D sculptures that she made from random DNA traces, some of her previous projects include reconfiguring speech collected from a train station using speech recognition systems, computer algorithms and “elgooG,” a search engine that functions like Google except that it prioritizes the least popular results.
Her politicized creative intent has enabled her to take her art far beyond the confines of an art gallery. The Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars made her an “expert” in synthetic biology, CNN invited her for a live interview in 2013, the Wall Street Journal, the New Yorker, BBC World News and BBC News Magazine have all published articles about her, and the list goes on.
A graduate of Bennington College, a small liberal arts college in Bennington, Vt., Hagborg’s career path is one that should not be too far from any liberal arts undergraduates’ imagination. Professor Sanford Mirling, in his introductory speech for the artist, described her as a great example of an artist with a liberal arts background whose work “breaches [the] gaps of Science and Art”.
“I tend to think of the stuff I’m doing as projects rather than artworks,” Dewey-Hagbog said at the beginning of her talk. “They tend to be sprawling and ongoing, and I never necessarily know when they’re done, or even when they properly began. They just sort of all blend into each other.”
She said she usually starts off each project with a question. To her, art is about asking questions and researching and experimenting. At the end of the talk, she encouraged the undergraduates in the audience to become more engaged with topics such as new technologies, which “are going to have major repercussions on our culture in the coming decade.”
“Now is the time to question these things … [the undergraduates of Middlebury College] are uniquely poised to examine these intersections [between technology and culture],” the artist said.
When someone in the audience asked Dewey-Hagborg what her next project is, she replied, “it is very political and tactical,” she paused, “but it’s a secret!” She smiled the sly smile of someone who is proud of her work and the heated debates she knows it will stir.
(03/12/14 3:34pm)
The word ‘emo,’ with regards to music at least, normally evokes a couple of common reactions for graduates of the American teenage experience. First, a wave of nostalgia washes over your glazed and jaded eyes, bringing you back to those icky formative middle school years where everyone was horrible and cruel and mom don’t make me go back to school, can we please move far away from here? Thankfully, there were so many bands of 25(plus)-year-old dudes with nasally whines and spiked hair dyed black that ‘got it’ and could ‘speak to us’. Next comes the sudden realization that any band made of the aforementioned aging heartthrobs who wrote lyrics mostly aimed at adolescents (lookin’ at you, Simple Plan) might not have been worth your time—they didn’t have as much figured out as previously thought.
As such, I was weary to see that festering little word glued to essentially every description of Modern Baseball’s newest release You’re Gonna Miss It All that I could find online. I was far too busy with my burgeoning iTunes library of ‘college rock for grown-ups’ – I’m trying to run away from the past here! – to listen, but repeated recommendations for this slick record put out by fellow-college-aged Philly natives made me cave and I gave it a shot.
The first line of the opener “Fine, Great” got me hooked for good when, saying it far better than I ever could, it reduced the entirety of my undergraduate strife into a single sentence: “I hate worrying about the future/’cause all my current problems are rooted in the past.”
In essence, this album is the catharsis for any wayward college kid trying to sort through the mess of emotional chaos that’ll eventually plague us all no matter how many books we sink our heads into, no matter how many life philosophies we churn out at one in the morning with overeager acquaintances and no matter how we carry on through our time here in school.
On “You’re Gonna Miss It All,” self-discovery pokes through the haze of keggers and off-campus house parties in the form of two-and-a-half-minute bursts of simultaneously peppy and bitter vignettes about heartbreak and hangovers. Brendan Lukens, the band’s lead singer and main songwriter, has somehow found the perfect niche between observant, self-aware and naïve, never reaching beyond that which he knows, thankfully avoiding embarrassingly indulgent grasps at truth, or whatever. His lyrics are sharp and witty, not at all whiney yet still boasting a tinge of the kind of pathetic that earns an empathic laugh rather than scornful pity. Each track is a little prickly and sad but no less hilarious and relatable.
Modern Baseball’s members have lived through the same nights we all have, ripe with the same frustration and the same cute innocence of trying to deny reality for just a little bit longer once the morning after strikes: “My head is on the verge of exploding/no amount of aspirin or pizza could help this from hurting,” Lukens croons on “Rock Bottom,” a standout track. The beauty of his words lies in the intensely honest, personal, getting-right-to-the-point nature of each tightly crafted line — that and their ability to make me laugh and hate myself all within the same thirty seconds.
Musically, “You’re Gonna Miss It All” contains all that you could want from a simple indie rock album: melodic rhythms, cutting riffs, a sing-along anthem here (“Charlie Black”) and a slow cut there (“Two Good Things”). There are bits of Brand New, Tokyo Police Club and even Built to Spill peppered throughout, if those strike your fancy. Modern Baseball was kind enough to keep its album to a brief 30 minutes, which really gives you just enough of a break from whatever aspect of real life you’re currently vested in. It’s a nice blast from the past with enough meek insight to make you think you’re spending your time well.
(03/06/14 2:23pm)
Room 404 may not be the most recognizable student-run publication on campus, but its little-flaunted presence could be intentional. The publication’s distribution strategy, developed by the organization’s founders Moss Turpan ’14.5 and Dylan Redford ’14.5, does not rely on the typical grab-and-go allocation that other organizations utilize. For those who do not even know what Room 404 is, here is some background information on one of the College’s hidden gems.
The publication features poetry and prose with a purpose, creative graphics, comic quizzes and other ramblings that Turpan says “don’t have a place in any other campus publications.” All of the components are created, edited and designed by a team of contributors at meetings that occur “wheneverly.”
Although the idea for Room 404 sprouted during Turpan and Redford’s freshman year, the first publication did not come out until Winter 2013, but a Spring 2014 edition quickly followed, leading the club to run on a twice-a-year publishing basis. The Spring 2013 edition featured a Choose Your Own Friday Night Adventure at Middlebury, an erasure poem from a book by Freud, Unconventional Love Letters and a comedic Genealogy of Herbals (a family tree portraying personified and characterized herbs with Bay Laurel and Sage as the common ancestors). If the content itself did not make the publication unique enough, its distribution process is notable as well.
The members of Room 404 work hard to compile an email list of prospective contributors and interested readers to get their word out. Leading up to a new edition of Room 404, the staff organizes a non-exclusive release party. All attendees receive an issue of the most recent publication. However, that is not the only opportunity for students to get their hands on a copy. Posters are plastered around campus inciting people to request their own copy via email. A requester is entered into the email server and a personalized copy of the publication is delivered promptly to his or her mailbox.
This is a key feature that separates Room 404 from other student-run publications on campus like Blackbird, the literary magazine, or even the Campus issue you are reading right now. Publications can be as easy to leave behind or throw away as they are to obtain. Everybody has picked up a newspaper or magazine lying around and skimmed it during a spare minute, only to abandon it as quickly as they had found it. Turpan and his peers believe that requiring readers to order their copies, and then presonalizing each copy, increases the chances of students reading the publication thoroughly and also hanging onto it.
I experienced this myself during my interview with Turpan as he brought out the Spring 2013 edition of Room 404, and neatly wrote my name in block lettering along the black line that was preceded by “This Book Belongs To.” I immediately wanted to read every line and every post script and admire every drawing including a very well-constructed ring pop. And, indeed, I did just that as soon as I went back to my room.
The idea of receiving an aesthetically-pleasing and personalized gift in a mailbox that is more commonly designated for tutoring flyers and useless advertisements is tantalizing, and if nothing else, simply new. Although this tailored distribution of magazines is a factor in why Room 404 is less of a “big name” compared to Blackbird or the Campus, it arguably could produce a more dedicated and stronger readership.
(03/05/14 5:10pm)
I’m sorry, I totally spaced out can you say that again? Something about your dying pet? Someone is having a birthday party? I wasn’t listening. What do you think the back of my head looks like to that boy by the soda machine?
I don’t think I can make it, but have fun! Why? Well. Ok, listen, buddy. Your a cappella concert or acoustic guitar jam or whatever is pretty far away from my bed and it is cold/icy/snowy/rainy and the Midd Rides dispatcher is AWOL and you’re just not worth the trek.
I literally would rather stand in line at the Mail Center for the rest of my life than attend this 8 a.m. Renaissance poetry lecture. So let’s call it sick. I’m sick. I’m deathly ill, but I am kind enough to shoot you an email from my deathbed. Gastro. It is gastro, I think.
No, I didn’t feel like going out. My roommate is out of town, so I’m going to try to have a “me” night? So I lit a bunch of candles and ran a bath and listened to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for like, 20 minutes? Then I got bored and I forgot my roommate’s dad’s HBOgo password, so I went to sleep.
No I didn’t make it to Viva Ross Vegas. I guess you can tell me about it. I mean, yes I know it looks like, I’m making a Zen sand garden out of my mashed potatoes with my fork while I latch on to your every word, but I’m not listening, not one bit. I am scheming. I am plotting my getaway. I am thinking about how I could pay my friend in laundry card swipes to take me to Burlington, and there’s a flight, leaving tonight, $300 one-way to Bermuda. Bermuda! What’s happening down there? I don’t even know! But I bet a wise mentor will take me under her wing and teach me to surf and sail, and I will become tan and rail thin and live off fish and Vitamin D.
I didn’t do the readings. I was attending a funeral reception for my friend’s dead pet. Or a birthday party. It was a combination funeral reception-birthday party.
I am so sorry I didn’t meet you for the improve show; I fell asleep in one of the blue chairs in the library. No, not the ones in Bi Hall; that atrium is too drafty. The chairs in the Davis Family Library. Yes, it was a reclining one. I don’t know; I got there early. If you get there early, you can snag one. Three hours. Yes, that long. That’s never happened to you? When I woke up the windows were dark and all my dreams came rushing back. My sister was a pirate, a cabal of merry Russian Satanists drank all of the wine, I got a tattoo on both the front and back of my wrist, both miniature scenes of birthday parties, and I was so wracked with regret in the dream that I had to wake up and double check that I didn’t actually have those tattoos in real life. I’m sorry I missed our meeting. Tomorrow?
I’m sorry I missed your Symposium presentation, but I would rather Oedipus my eyeballs than watch one more Powerpoint this week. Is that too dramatic, in light of the content on the front page of the New York Times? I’m grateful to be here, I am. I want to be here, I do. I want to hear your concerns about the word count of the assignment at breakfast and watch people play the Steinway in Wright and read 300 pages of feminist theory and attend that performance art lecture and always possess an impossible to-do list that flutters around in my backpack like a Yoko Ono Wish Tree wish. But sometimes I also I want to wander around and look at snow-covered trees and impressive icicles. I want to sit and stare into space and not think about anything at all. Just give me like 20 minutes. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
I’m going out of town, so I’ll have to miss class next week. It’s my birthday?
