Closure to My Trinity Thesis: A Farewell

There are many terrible metaphors thrown out about the college experience; and with my last editorial, I'd like to throw one more into the mix. On the cusp of finishing my thesis, I've come to the conclusion that the process of writing this major work mirrors my college trajectory surprisingly well: at first, there was excitement and unrealistic idealism, then the process of gaining a stronger focus, all punctuated with frequent doses of discovery, moments of being totally overwhelmed, and bullshitting my way through. What I don't have on the eve of my graduation, however, is an overarching thesis statement; a concise summation of four years spent at 300 Summit St.

I was hoping that I would end my tenure as Editor-in-Chief with a mostly chipper, occasionally nostalgic editorial; something about meeting again "'neath the elms." However, I find myself putting out a last issue that reflects some of the anger, confusion, and tension that I have seen on campus in the past couple of weeks. I will not try to define racism, nor will I put forth a possible solution for such a tremendous issue; there are many articulate, eloquent voices already at work to do so, and I'd urge Trinity members to read Professor Chatfield's earlier letter to the editor, Professor Kassow's piece on 4legs, or any of the other reactions published in both Trinity and other media outlets. What I would like to comment on is how we, individually and as a community, react to calamities, be they racist, sexist, or anything else.

 A little over a year ago, while spending the semester abroad in Amsterdam, I wrote what I perceived to be a light-hearted article about my experiences playing drag queen bingo during a night out. A week later, the Tripod published a letter to the editor, maintaining that my article had "deeply disturbing racial and classist implications," in response to my description of the "beautiful blonde Dutch people." When I read this letter, signed by several members of the Trinity community, I was devastated, in every sense of the word. To realize that my words could be read so differently than I had intended them was rattling (the phrasing had stemmed from a love of alliteration), that I had deeply offended people was disheartening, and to be called such an ugly name for the first time in my life was crushing. I fretted over how to respond, writing draft after draft of letters first attempting to justify my writing, then defending myself, then apologizing. I eventually decided that I could not find a way to respond that would engender constructive dialogue, and so I remained silent.

I have since wondered whether my silence was the wrong response, but the experience has become particularly relevant in recent weeks. That moment in which I finished that letter was one of the most searing in my college career, a key point in the thesis of my time at Trinity, if you will. Provoking a tempest of responses on the Tripod website, the letter was picked up by a number of college newspaper syndicates. Until just a few weeks ago, that letter to the editor was the first, second, and third hits when one Googled my name, and I know that I lost at least one job opportunity as a result.

My point here is not to bemoan the incident; in fact I value it highly as a contributing factor in my growth as a responsible writer. What I wish to point out is that just as the writers accused me of being careless with my words, I would venture that perhaps they did not fully anticipate the repercussions of charging a student with bigotry, even if they did acknowledge the implications could have been accidental. After much contemplation, I believe that the authors saw my article as an opportunity to make a larger point about sensitivity, but in their efforts to prove a point, their own sensitivity fell by the wayside.

This type of reactionary response can even be applied to recent global events; last night the media was flooded with reports of the successful extermination of Osama bin Laden. My reactions to the news were complex; on the one hand I was grateful that this step could possibly prevent further terrorist action, and that those who were affected by the horrific attacks ten years ago could perhaps find some long awaited solace. However on the other, I couldn't help but think of a quote by Martin Luther King Jr. who said, "Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." Seeing social media sites saturated with messages like "Welcome to hell bin Laden," or watching live feeds of drunk college students partying outside the White House made me feel squeamish. While I recognize the horrific acts he perpetrated, I will never feel comfortable celebrating someone's violent death; nor do I feel that it's particularly respectful to loudly proclaim our unequivocal success; it tookmany years and the lives of innumerable soldiers and civilians alike to make "Operation Geronimo" a success. I'm all for patriotism and unification in triumph over adversity, but again, a measure of sensitivity would not trivialize this event, and would perhaps be less inflammatory and more humble.

I have watched as students have marched and chanted, read as students and faculty penned approaches to the recent troubling events on campus, and listened as students engaged in serious discussions in the classroom, in the dining halls, and behind closed doors. Having experienced all of this, I have come to the very firm conclusion that Trinity is not lacking in passionate, eloquent, and principled individuals. However, it is troubling to me to see that members of the Trinity community, all of whom I believe have the capacity for critical thinking and well-reasoned argument, instead of exercising patience and restraint, sometimes choose to react impulsively, with a seeming aim of sensationalism rather than productivity. Thus, a statement such as "We have supported efforts of the College to recruit students of color and have encouraged students of color to avail themselves of a Trinity education. The status quo makes it impossible for us to continue to do this. Indeed, we may find ourselves having to tell prospective minority students that Trinity is not the place for them" seems to me to be more of an attempt to trigger a response rather than a thoughtful reflection.