Whitworth, apostate generator
“I used to be a Christian.” A smirk. “Until I came to Whitworth.”
It’s a very common line at Whitworth. It’s graced countless opinion columns, each time pretending to be a shocking statement.
But it’s something that’s happened time and time again to Whitworth Student after Whitworth student. Some, to be clear, have gone the other way — actually becoming religious in college.
But most of the movement among students seems to be away from the religion referred to in their brochures.
Personally, I survived Whitworth with my religion intact (and, maybe, ultimately stronger.) . Still, my question is: How does Whitworth, a Christian university, end up creating so many non-Christians?
After processing for some time, I believe these are many of the factors. Naturally, I can’t — and won’t — speak for your individual experience. But this is something, I think, worth exploring.
College, where the parents aren’t.
College is a time of solidifying your own identity. Of separating oneself from your old life, your old church, your old parents, and, sometimes, your old beliefs.
So it isn’t surprising that college — even Jerry Fallwell’s Liberty College in all likelihood — leads to a certain percentage rejecting the philosophy they started with.
So much of the Christianity people come to Whitworth armed with is the flannelgraph kind. Fuzzy. Simple. And able to fall off under the slightest breeze.
The parental protection is gone in college. You’re out of the womb and the umbilical cord’s been cut. Instead, you’re in a world of questions, bright and scary.
Whitworth, to its credit, tends to encourage those questions.
But people begin to run into knotty questions about their religion, without having the theological underpinnings or confidence to answer them.
Questions like:
Obituary Page
Well, now.
A whole new swath of you are graduating.
Use the comment section below to write an obituary of your college career. Talk about what you loved and what you didn’t. Talk about your successes and your regrets. Talk about the RealLife Afterlife, and whether you’re excited or apprehensive.
Flying is merely the art of learning to throw yourself at the ground…and miss!
There comes a time in every epic friendship when things go badly.
I don’t mean the silly squabbles about what to do once you finally decide to hang out Friday night, or whether that one movie really did deserve to win the Oscar for “Best Picture”.
No, I’m talking about a REAL disagreement. Raised voices, maybe some tears, and a cooling period will occur before both the parties involved can talk to each other in a civil manner again.To be honest, it’s always a little frightening the first time it happens – at least for me. I seem to have a secret hope, no matter how many times it’s proven wrong, that with this person, we won’t disagree. Or, if we do, we’ll settle it quickly and it won’t stretch out into an actual fight. Of course, it never happens, or, if it does, I realize that the friendship has become shallow. Not having dared to risk it on the rocks of talking about anything important, or showing enough of myself that things turn serious, my friend and I no longer connect.
It seems that, the closer I get to someone, the more inevitable it is that we will eventually fight, and fight quite badly. There is something that touches both of us deeply enough that it is worth risking the friendship to speak of.
I don’t mean that there is a conscious decision – a realization that what happens next is going to drive all parties involved to fury. I just mean that things happen when people get really close. Bad things.
Someone will say something uncalled for. The other person says something equally awful back. And before we know it, we’ve just had a fight that could sever me from the other person forever. If both of us hold a grudge, the bitterness will grow. And that’s when the choice comes. Is this person worth enough to me to work through this fight, and become better friends because of it? Am I going to allow simple, stupid human nature to prevent me from getting to know someone who, really, is one of the most awesome people I have ever met?
Hopefully, the answer is no. Any good friendship has scars. Any relationship worth holding on to isn’t pretty. But the point of scars is not to show pain, it is to show healing.
There was once a wound, yes.
But it’s better now.
WE’RE better now.
Dear G-Unit
Introducing Whitworth’s only advice column, written by a Whitworth student, for other Whitworth students! For your edification, amusement, & pleasure: it’s Dear G-Unit!
Dear G-Unit: I’m writing you today because I feel my parents are starting to like my roomate better than me. The first thing they always ask when they call is “And how is *roommate name witheld to protect the innocent* doing?”. They give him care packages, and they lavish him with compliments when they see him. What can I do to reassert… ahem… “parental focus” back on to moi?
Belittled in BJ
Hi BB! Wow, how insensitive. I suggest getting new parents….No, wait, that’s not cost-effective. Never mind. Um. Let’s see.
I assume you have already tried standard techniques like whining on the phone. It’s time to get drastic. Stage a crisis.
I’ll go ahead & assume you’re a freshman, because, after all, Baldwin-Jenkins is a freshman-only dorm. It is a well known fact (at least to us upperclassmen) that most freshman are more concerned with friends then they are with grades. Plan carefully. Begin mentioning the names of friends that you are hanging out with (make up names if you have no friends or your friends hate you and refuse to hang out with you). Begin mentioning these names at an exponentially increasing rate. Eventually, if they are the kind of parents I think they are (by which I mean, parents who like to see some evidence that you are putting all that money they are forking out for tuition to practical use), they will begin to ask about homework, classes, and grades. Downplay the grades, at first. Mention classes, but when they ask how said classes are going, mumble and change the subject. Mention tests but then don’t mention your final grade. Et cetera. Eventually they will catch on, being the savvy adults they are, and demand proof. Proof of grades. Proof of success. Proof that you are not on academic probation. At this point, break down. Begin to sob. Tell them about how much time you have been spending with your friends, instead of poring over your homework. Tell them the love of your friends is only a poor, shabby substitute for their love. And beg them to fly up/down/over and visit you next weekend. And they, sobbing by now as well, will proceed to do exactly as you ask.
I know, I know, I’m a genius. You don’t have to tell me.
Dear G-Unit: I just starting dating this AMAZING girl from Warren. I think she may be the one. We agree on everything; from how it is TOTALLY wrong to call people gay as an insult, to that apples are the best fruit! My question is: how do I tell when we’re annoying people? We really love each other and like holding hands and kissing and being all ridiculous, but even so, I don’t want to be THAT couple, who totally alienates everyone they meet just because they are just so SO.
Warren Peace
I’ll try to make this quick and painless for both of us, Tolstoy: I’m afraid you already are that couple. The ones making goo-goo eyes at each other across their Saga tables. The ones constantly referencing stupid inside jokes that nobody else gets, even if we cared to try and figure them out. The ones walking each other home in the Loop, shrieking loudly at 3 AM. The ones breaking the ‘quiet’ rule in the back shelves of the libraries.I have three words for you and your girlfriend: GET. A. LIFE. I know, I know, you are SOOOOOOOO IN LUV, and you NEVER want to be apart and you ALWAYS want to be together and you are TOTALLY ring-by-spring-ing, but my point stands. The relationship will die (I know, I know, HEAVEN FORBID OMG) without space. You need space, especially if you are seriously considering getting married and aren’t just flinging that around like so many Whitworth couples do. By space, I mean time apart, and having things you enjoy doing WITHOUT the other attached to your hip.
And, are you annoying your friends (really the only ‘people’ who matter)? I don’t know. I am not your friends. Perhaps you should, you know, ask them.
Dear G-Unit: Recently this really awesome band came to visit Whitworth. They played the HUB multipurpose room. Me and a couple friends started dancing. We just couldn’t help it. The music was so good! It was really awkward though, because it’s like the band on stage, and then that little square of light, and then everything else is dark. And there were, seriously, like four of us dancing, and everyone else just outside in the dark, standing still, maybe swaying a little, all spooky like. How lame! How can I get people to join in the fun next time?
I’ll March to the Beat of Any Drummer with a Good Bass Line
Well, I.M.B.A.D.G.B.L., all I can tell ya is to lead by example. Whitworthians are a little, how do you say, challenged in the R&B department. Trust me, get em a little excited, or, just, you know, turn ALL the lights off (Warren Rave, I’m talking to you), and they go absolutely nuts. Try not to stare at them, though. I know, I know, that dance move was out of style when your granddad was a kid, but progress is progress. You have to do the Running Man before you can waltz, as they say.
If you’d like some words of wisdom from the most straight up G advice columnist this side of Seattle, shoot an email at dearg-unit@live.com, and you could see yourself in print! Er, type! Er…Whitworth Forum post! Yeah, that one.
Just Don’t Censor the Sweatshirts
“So, people get more fired up about sweatshirts than censorship?,” Elizabeth Johnson commented on her own article. “Great.”
She had a point. The article chronicling the administration’s censorship of the intended title for the annual senior art exhibition had received precisely one comment from the Whitworth community in the week it had been posted. Conversely, the article attacking the average Whitworthian’s propensity for wearing sweatshirts to class (also penned by Ms. Johnson) received five comments in its first week and thirteen as of this posting. It also inspired a Letter to the Editor, notable as being the only Letter to the Editor that the Whitworthian has published in 2009.
I won’t even get into the Vagina Monologues incident, which spurred the writing of two Whitworthian articles and an opinions column, but apparently failed to garner any attention from individual students (at least judging from the lack of comments upon said articles/columns).
It is, as a recent In the Loop column stated, “an upsetting trend.” But what I find more upsetting than the administration’s actions is the lack of response from the Whitworth community at large – a community that erupts in outrage when someone makes negative remarks about their everyday attire, but says not a word when the artistic expression of their peers is imperilled! What kind of attitude is this?
One friend who I pestered about the administration’s actions vis-a-vis the senior art exhibit said, “Well, I don’t really care about art. It’s not my [rights to free speech] that are being infringed upon.”
I hate to subcribe to an obvious logical fallacy, in this case the slippery slope argument, but indulge me. In recent years Whitworth has been moving more and more toward a particular image, the image of a hallowed institution of learning. This is fine, but their image apparently does not include seniors who wear wigs and make silly faces for their ID card photos, or advertisements that don’t have a “Whitworth University” stamp on the corner, or students who bedeck the other university in town’s campus with fliers declaring Whitworth’s societal, academic, and athletic superiority (in unapologetically silly terms, of course).
Understandable? Maybe…but the administration’s objections have now cut a little closer to home. No ironic art show titles. No productions of plays that dare to criticize traditional sexual mores.
How many more such decisions will have to be made before students as a whole start taking notice?
GO. VOTE. NOW [PT. TWO].
Ha ha ha…..really though. Vote. The sooner the better.
Same deal as last time, people. I logged into Facebook and typed each candidate’s name into Facebook search. Their first name I made a link to either the picture they’re using to campaign with, or their profile pic. Their last name is a link to whatever picture on their Profile Pictures Page amused or intrigued me most. And after that I quoted an intriguing, amusing, or just plain WHAT?! quote from their “Favorite Quotations” section on Facebook. And after THAT I linked you to any existing Facebook support groups. Only difference: this time it’s the people who became, as the email said, “official candidates through the write-in process.”
Duvall Senator
- Jonathan Deal (We must not look to government to solve our problems. Government is the problem [Ronald Reagan].)
- Peter Pascacio (We’ll go with that [Alex Haley].)
Off Campus Senator
Warren Senator
GO. VOTE. NOW.
…before you forget, ’cause you were busy doing @#!# CORE homework!
OKAY, here’s what I did. I logged into Facebook and typed each candidate’s name into Facebook search. Their first name I made a link to either the picture they’re using to campaign with, or their profile pic (in many cases, both [in one case a Paint interpretation of a particularly evocative campaign poster]). Their last name is a link to whatever picture on their Profile Pictures Page amused or intrigued me most. And after that I quoted an intriguing, amusing, or just plain WHAT?! quote from their “Favorite Quotations” section on Facebook. And after THAT I linked you to any existing Facebook support groups. WHEW.
President
- Tyler Whitney (Those who say religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion is [[Ghandi])
- Michael Harri (I‘m not weakened by the fears/that you have applied/See I’m now learning in these walls/that You have supplied./Slow, slow down boy./Slow down to/Control [Collective Soul]) The Official Facebook Support Group. The Website.
EVP
- Tyler Hamilton (If at first you don’t suceed, then lower your standards.)
- Charley Brinkman (We cannot all do great things, but we can all do small things with great love [Mother Teresa].)
FVP
- Carl Chan (Spirituality is not religion. Religion divides people. Belief in something unites them.) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Boppell Senator
Mac Senator
- Jesse Prichard
- Stephen Jansons (..when I’m going through the hard times I like to punch dance away life’s problems…) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Ballard Senator
Stewart Senator
- Brittany Roach (life is a series of images that change as they repeat themselves [Andy Warhol]
East Senator
Arend Senator
- Beau Lamb (I feel like I’m in some Greek play, you try to control your fate, but the gods have other plans.)
- Rachel Busick (violence is not the answer [though it is a solution at times]) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Off Campus Senator
- David Kuraya (The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work [Emile Zola].) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Off Campus Rep
- Dan Lewis (The world will never be safe as long as millions live in poverty so the few can live as they wish [Shane Clairborne].) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Anonymous? Please.
A trend seems to have taken over the comments in the Whitworthian lately. And no, I’m not talking about the tendency toward annoyed or even furious tones. I’m talking about the habit of commenting using a false name.
What amazes me in particular is how these commenters seem to think they should be taken seriously. Why should we listen to what you have to say when you refuse to even attach a name to your work?
I could understand why a commenter would feel the need to disguise their identity when expressing their feelings on something that a future employer might find questionable, such as, say, the legalization of marijuana or a secret affection for NAMBLA (ew). But an article dissing on sweatshirts? Really, guys?
The readers of James McPherson’s blog have the courage of using their real names while they debate politics. I think Whitworthians can afford to be honest while snarking over whether someone’s gotten their research right.
Race on campus — Our response to GFU
By now most students are aware of what happened last Tuesday on George Fox University’s campus. If you are not, I will save time by simply linking you to this story.
To quote President Bill Robinson’s Friday evening email:
This stunt is not funny. It is abhorrent. It assaults GFU’s commitment to be a more diverse campus. It belittles Act Six students who are trying to engage a dominant culture, in most cases one that is not their culture. It invites angry and inaccurate speculations about people and motives responsible for this. It affronts every student who is different from the mainstream.
I agree with Robinson on all fronts.
The Rise and Fall of the 95 theses.
I wrote the 95 theses.
I know, I know. Not exactly a breaking piece of news worthy of the Drudge siren. It’s more like breathlessly revealing that, guess what, Stalin, of all people, was behind the assassination of Trotsky! And that OJ fellow? He might have had a hand – or at least glove – in the murder of his wife!
Jessica Davis guessed that I had written those three-page incendiary mere moments after it was discovered. It only took Galen Sanford and Jessica Carrier a few days to figure it out.
And I’m guessing even administration – Mandeville and the RDs – had a pretty good inkling of whodunit. They didn’t attempt to prosecute me because four others had, like Abraham’s ram, taken my place. The requisite quota of punishment was met, so there was no need to drag my paranoid, trembling self in.
So, it’s not like the following information is a surprising confession to anyone.
Nor is it necessarily a defense of the theses. It’s also not an apology. It’s neither bragging nor regretting.
Instead, it’s merely a record, on paper (or screen) of the events that unfolded on the night of October 31, 2006. It’s purely a correction on the misinformation you think you know, and elaboration on the information you do know.
This is a first person account of rise and fall of the prank that made both the local evening news and Sportsillustrated.com.
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Granted, the prank happened over a year ago. The conversations are reproduced and stylized from my hazy memory. Exact accuracy is not to be expected. If you want to correct something, that’s what the comments section is for.
For those of you who already know of the 95 theses tornado of a saga, this will add facts to your assumptions.
For those of you who are going “95 what??” then buckle your seatbelt, release the parking break, and ignite the ignition.
You’re in for a wild, convoluted, ride.