List of BS catch-all Whitworth-words.
Take any community, any corporation, any company, or any group of friends, and place them in a mega-sized petri dish. Let them fester. Observe.
With eerie speed, a jargon develops. A new language, reflecting their own unique value system, arises. It’s a sideeffect of comfort. When speaking or writing, we slide effortlessly into a rut of comfort. It’s the same reason I constantly find myself using words like “smattering” “slew” and “downright.” I’ve used them many times before, and so I’m prone to use them again and again.
In a rare instance, jargon can be useful. They allow us, instantaneously, to understand what the other person’s talking about. That’s why words like “epistemology” and “worldview” aren’t going to show up on this list. While they may be bandied about more than a badminton birdie, they have a specific, precise meaning.
But a lot of words at Whitworth don’t have that specific precise meaning. The meaning is fuzzy. Soft. They’re words that are supposed to summon up vague feelings of happiness or anger, while obscuring the ideas that lie underneath.
And there’s the problem. These buzzwords aren’t just a matter of “bad writing” or “lazy thinking” they carry some dangerous and destructive assumptions. They gloss them over, dress them in pretty clothes, and prop them up so we don’t notice the shoddy construction. At Whitworth, students usually ignore these words, or dismiss them. In doing so, we also miss the pernicious effects words carry with them. Words matter. They shift minds. They twist ideas.
While I was an opinions columnist I banned these words (with occasional exceptions.) Not because I wanted to censor ideas, but because I wanted to make sure that when my writers were writing, the readers knew exactly what they were talking about. I’ve taken most of these ideas on before, but Gabrielle Vaughn asked for a list.
Here, is that list. Now, I haven’t been at Whitworth for several months, so maybe the place has experienced a cultural renaissance, and these words have been banished back into the fires of Mt. Doom whence it they were forged, but if not, be on the lookout for these:
Community: Long ago, “community” became a punchline at Whitworth. Go to an RA interview, and you’ll be asked “What does the word ‘community’ mean to you.”
In a way, it’s similar to the classic small group questions “What does Jesus mean to you?” In that case, it’s valuable, just because many people have different conceptions of who Jesus is. They have a different relationship with him.
But I believe the similarity calls to mind the eerie religious nature that the word has. And not “good religious” in the sense that religion drives us to help others, and clarifies our life’s purpose. Bad-religious, in the way that for many people, religion is about reciting phrases, undergoing rituals, and feeling smug.
So what does “community” mean? It’s shorthand for a “sense of community.” It’s a sense of belonging. And — this is key — a sense of peace. It’s having coffee with your professors. It’s sitting in Saga, and smiling and laughing with your hall. It’s a good feeling, and a nice world to live in.
So, for that matter, is Candyland. But try as you might, you can’t play Candyland for very long. There’s going to be conflict — a clash of worldviews — that rips you from that fuzzy cocoon. In fact, in college, that conflict is half of what you’re paying for. That opportunity to wrestle with the issues.
But at Whitworth, the key is to get that conflict under control as fast as possible, and get back into a State of Community. (It’s like the Rousseau’s State of Nature. It’s a sweet place to live, with bananas and happiness. But it doesn’t last very long, because there are only so many bananas to go around, and pretty soon you’ve got a state of war.)
They’ll form committees, put up posters, and have awareness meetings to placate the rumbling masses. Maybe create a coordinator.
At Whitworth, disruption of community is a crime. Of the three most important rules at Whitworth, “Don’t mess up the sweet vibe we’ve got goin’ here” is the catchall just-add-water mandate.
The big question is, what does that do to the people that don’t fit in into the sweet vibe? What about the pariahs, the anathemas, the gadflies? It sends a clear message: Keep quiet and we’ll like you.
Whitworth’s version of Community, when you get down to it, really, is “feeling you fit in.” So for the people who don’t, it’s frustrating every time the community mantra is chanted.
The debates Whitworth could be having have trouble getting going, because nobody wants to say things that are impolite. Whitworth students, one prof is said to have said, are too nice. And yet, in the effort to make everybody happy, Whitworth drives away those most in need of “community.”
The Travesty Of Arendian Bathrooms
A week or so before school let out for Christmas, a survey of sorts was put up in the bathrooms of Arend as to the temperature inside the building. Hallmates were asked to vote as to their preferences, being warned that if more votes were counted than people who lived in the hall, the votes would be discounted. I don’t live in Arend, so I read and basically disregarded, although I personally thought things were fine.
Said survey was apparently some form of cruel joke.
Tonight I was in Arend 2nd West for the purpose of watching some episodes of the British show “The IT Crowd.” If you haven’t seen it or heard of it, it’s HILARIOUS, as well as being posessed of a really catchy theme song, so I suggest you check it out ASAP. But that’s not what this is about.
After a while, biological processes being what they are, I found myself visiting the bathroom on 1st West (since 2nd West is a guy hall, and I’m not a guy. Despite the guy-esque name.) I hopped down the stairs, through the double doors to 1st West, and entered the bathroom.
Dear.
God.
Not only was it freezing cold in there, I realized as I slammed the stall door shut and shiveringly tried to get my business over with as soon as possible, THE AIR CONDITIONER WAS ON. Cold air was being actively blown into the bathroom. I believe it may actually have been colder in the bathroom than it was outside.
I rushed to the sink, washed my hands in record time, and turned with relief to the hand dryer. At least it would be warm.
NO.
IT WAS NOT.
THE HAND DRYER WAS BLOWING COLD AIR.
I persevered bravely for about thirty seconds before I gave up and ran sobbing up the stairs to use my friend’s towel instead.
I dedicate this sordid tale to whoever is reponsible for the temperature of Arend’s bathrooms. DO SOMETHING. I BEG OF YOU.
Just wondering
Does anyone know why Whitworth thought it would be a good idea to give two residential buildings the same name?
Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s Shalom Community Center and Shalom of the Village, but the fact is that the shorthand name for both is still “Shalom.” It’s a fantastic name, sure, with its sort of vaguely Biblical aura implying that all the inhabitants live in Big Three-less harmony. And why have just ONE fantastically named dorm when you can have TWO? I just happen to think the confusion involved outweighs the potentional fantasticness of double dorm naming.
Why, just the other day my poor boyfriend lost five bucks in a bet with me about whether a friend lived in the Shalom next door to Keola, or the Shalom down the street. Tragedy, tragedy. (It was the Shalom down the street.)
With any luck we will wave farewell to the adorably tiny Village next year (or should I say the TA half of BJTA and the Shke bit of Stewbopshke?) and then will not have this problem anymore. But until then it remains a source of confusion to both current students and visitors.