Increase the peace in Greek life
College hygiene and local ethnocentrism
No room for apathy and complacency
A senior’s humble advice for the opinions section
The tale of the invisible invisible minority
Administrative killjoy; the kids are alright
Matt Lorch
Cento Writer
Centre now proudly boasts a reputation as a top 40 school and churns out some of the smartest kids in the country. In spite of this, the school has grown increasingly less trusting of the students’ capabilities to think for themselves.
I say this because every year there are more rules enacted to restrict students’ actions on party nights. No parties upstairs in the houses. No gathering in the dorm residences. No carrying your alcohol in a backpack. No drinking from a blue cup if you’re under 21, or drinking from a red cup if you’re over 21. Or was it the other way around?
Anyone that actually wants to relax and have fun can’t be expected to remember all of these ever-multiplying rules that are put into effect. What ever happened to common sense? I feel confident in saying that many of our students feel insulted when DPS comes around and shakes a "no" finger at us for the most trivial things.
Of course DPS provides a valuable service for this campus, but they should reconsider what they’re enforcing. Maybe there have been marginal decreases in the number of "incidents", but I assure you that the fun factor of this campus has taken a much bigger dive.
Have Centre students grown so irresponsible that they can’t be trusted to think for themselves socially and learn from their mistakes? I could tell you some stories of people overindulging, but really, are a few more rules going to change that? With one house on the row gone dry, it has become apparent that the administration is enjoying it.
The removal of the "dancing and drinking clubs" would do more harm than good, especially when you consider how much these students contribute to the campus and community. If all the houses go dry or become so unappealing because of DPS around every corner writing a citation, people will party in their rooms. Wait, they’d better not dance there or have more than the allotted persons in the room or hallway, or they will be cited there, too. Rather depressing, isn’t it?
A healthy social scene is not only a safe haven for college students to learn, but also a vital part of any learning environment. The more rules that are made, the more Centre is oppressing that relaxing, enjoyable scene into a controlling hassle. In light of this, it is no wonder the houses on the row aren’t as full, or that the parking lots are half empty on weekends because of people going home. We’re on our way to becoming a suitcase college.
As a senior, I’ve been around long enough to recognize that there are, sadly, incidents where students do injure themselves or overindulge and cause more than a minor inconvenience to those around them. To those examples, I say "Fine, cite them for whatever reasons, and do what’s appropriate to ensure everyone can still have a good time." However, don’t punish the entire student body because a few individuals cannot enjoy themselves responsibly.
It is necessary to let the campus get together and enjoy cutting loose after a hard week. More students nowadays even opt to live off-campus in the less authoritative environment at the hands of the Danville police rather than DPS. That was almost unheard of when I was a freshman. Talk to your elders, underclassmen, because things have been better than this, and things are also likely to get worse. As far as I know, there’s been little response yet to student concerns on this matter.
If you go to UK, a scant half an hour away, or graduate to the real world where people don’t live in the age of prohibition, you will see that some of this hassle is due to the fact we reside in a dry county. Still, Centre should be more confident in the leaders they are supposedly producing for tomorrow and cut some slack.
As for the administration’s motives, I’d say they are positive ones, but are out of touch with the students. What they are doing is forcing students to find other ways to enjoy themselves when in between countless papers, lab reports, readings, presentations, convos and tests. We obviously work hard enough, so if Centre students find time to relax and have a good time, believe me, the students will go elsewhere to do it, or not even come here at all.
All things considered, it seems the administration thinks a complacent student body is a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’m glad I was around in the glory days before all this Neo-Puritianism, but I’m also disappointed that the newer students are being deprived of an environment where they can enjoy learning just as much outside the classroom as inside of it. Back to top...
Increase the peace in Greek life
Joe Bayless
Cento Writer
Becoming part of the Greek community is one of the best decisions I have made thus far in my college career. I am extremely grateful for the lessons learned over the last four months and for the close relationship that I have with my four pledge brothers.
However, there have been detrimental actions against our Greek system that have become all too common this year which I too have become caught up in. Now that pledging is finally over, one can’t help but have a strong sense of pride for the letters they spent such a long time earning.
This is no reason to berate fellow Greek members because they aren’t in the same fraternity. Incidents such as brawls in the snow, composite theft and the constant exchange of derogatory comments only hurt the Greek community as a whole.
After my act of disrespect toward another fraternal organization, I realized that the outcomes of these actions only result in heavy citations and general dissent, which benefit no one. I personally believe that the Greek system at Centre creates opportunities unparalleled to any other organization on this campus.
Therefore, I propose that we focus on continuing the effort to enrich this campus with social activities and diversity. I would also like to offer my apology to any organization that I have upset due to my lack of inter-fraternalness. Back to top...
College hygiene and local ethnocentrism
David Gower
Cento Opinions Editor
One of the best things about the college life is that you can look like shit any day of the week and it’s understood. By no means do I take showers every day. and there are plenty of people who call me friend. Now, I haven’t discussed hygiene with most Centre students, but I can tell just by looking at a lot of folks here that maybe they don’t feel the same as I do on the topic. I know people judge me on the way I look which is fine; I’m judging each and every one of you on looks every day of the week, and I’m finding you all guilty.
Forgive my digression. However you may feel about how much one’s appearance reveals about his or her personality, it is ridiculous to think we should feel self-conscious all the damned time about the way we look. Some situations would never call for one to look even halfway decent, or at least that is what one would think.
Let me illustrate what I’m talking about. When I walked into SuperAmerica at 1:40 a.m. Monday morning looking for snacky-whacks, I did not expect to be ridiculed as a stoner, slacker, loser or whatever. Sure, I wore the look on my sleeve, right down to Saturday night’s stale scent that fumed out of my green Pavement tee and the flannel shirt (meant to hide the weight gain inevitable after almost four years of ritual weekend benders and discount pizzas). But who else looks good at that god-forsaken hour (if you’re not wearing beer-goggles, that is)?
So, there I was staring into the freezer window looking for heaven’s ice cream (Ben and Jerry’s "New York Super Fudge Chunk," and may I add, God bless America!) and alas! the last one, hidden in the corner, just waiting for my greasy paws to embrace and introduce it to Mr. Mouth. Of course, my face lit up, and I probably made somewhat of a spectacle of myself, but people should get stoked about stuff like that. I like ice cream, and it shows, but I’m not foreseeing any diet changes in the near future. God bless America!
I go to the counter with my buddy, pay for our snacky-whacks and it becomes clear that the two gentlemen hanging out at the counter have been discoursing with the cashier on the matter of us "being" stoners. The cashier is clearly on their side. She smarts off at my friend and I, insinuating a "just get out" sentiment, and as we’re leaving one of the nice, small town gentlemen of Danville said, "Smoke one for me, buddy."
Granted, it is a funny situation in ways, but the guy who uttered that asshole statement is a real creep. He probably faithfully roots for the Cats (although he was never enrolled at UK), while not realizing the racist undertones of his belief that Tubby Smith is an inferior coach to Rick Pitino. I’m afraid, though, his outburst of hate is rooted in the way Centre College students have represented themselves out on the town. We’re taught by urbanized elitists when we arrive in Danville that there is nothing to do, and, in general, that it sucks green donkey bottom to be here. So, after the college bundles us into crowded dorms, forbidding us to live off-campus, an us-and-them scenario presents itself (not a good thing). It’s a damn shame that most Centre students will never really get to know anyone outside of the campus or Denny’s.
As long as we are convinced of our superiority toward the good people of Danville, we will continue to pass out in the front yards of nice old ladies, pretend not to notice people hanging out in front of the Presbyterian church and laugh at the outrageous accents and fashion senses that are a part of any small town. Some students will get their much deserved DUI’s because they are too lazy to walk ten blocks home from the party. We can practically get away with anything we do for two reasons: most of us have a total disregard for the reputation we have created for the students of Centre College, and mom and dad can, in most cases, pick up the bill.
Anyone can become just another big headed, pseudo-intellectual, Grecian moron at this college–all of us are taught the "proper" rhetoric and order our first few months here, but it takes a truly intelligent and good-hearted person to see through the emptiness of that order and get a real education.
My point is that we should live in Danville like we want to be alive in Danville. Recognize that the true idiots of Danville, both native and scholar, think one of three things: a) that Centre students are all a bunch of drug dealing, free loving, rich kid brats; b) that all "Townies" (what an absurd excuse for a derogatory name) are unworldly, bigoted and empty-headed animals whose culture is based in Wal-Mart smiley faces, 200-dollar bills and lottery tickets; and c) in general, "I am better than you." Pay attention to these voices, but try not to speak their language.
Sadly, humility is human nature’s least tapped resource. Our potentially wonderful community would truly benefit if more of us released our kung-fu grips on foolish pride and let go of crusty old vendettas. There are more constructive ways of building an identity for oneself without criticizing the characteristic "flaws" of everyone else. Blessed are the meek that love their mamas and eat all their ice cream. Back to top...
No room for apathy and complacency
Antonia Lindauer
Cento Writer
"See/ It was like this when…" begins one of my favorite Ferlinghetti poems. At the risk of sounding deep, I’ll explain that it’s a pretty meaningless poem altogether, but the first lines are often how I begin my attempt at explaining the old days to the younger set.
As it is compulsory for “Us Old Folk” to use this year to hearken back to the days of our Centre childhood, I often find myself drawing unsuspecting underclassmen into my web of yarns about a school that no longer exists. “Yes, Virginia, girls once lived in the Deke house,” I say, carefully applying the brake on my walker. I may launch into a catalogue of the changes that have come over the college. I will most certainly tell you what I think about them. What do you expect? I’M OLD.
As Seniors, this is our year to let it all hang out. We’ve been here too long to give a rat’s ass about anything that used to seem important years ago. Remember when we were young and spry, and it used to matter when you got a bowl of cheese delivered to your table in Cowan? Remember when everybody knew what that meant? Remember when we used to have opinions about the school, and we didn’t let the order of things just wash over us? The way we sit in Cowan used to be strange to us. It used to spark heated discussion and vows to Do Something About It. And once we even did. Maybe some of us still remember getting DIKT.
I’m afraid of becoming complacent. I know I have become desensitized to all the bizarre stuff that makes up our routine here. When I use the word "bizarre," I am not referring to the occasional car driving through the Quad. I am talking about the stuff that used to rile me when I was a freshman, but has since become the norm. Our repressed gender relations, for example. We are among a dying breed of schools that continues to draw a line in the sand between its male and female students. As freshmen, we are told that in the interest of our well-being, we must live at opposite poles of the campus from one another. How can we expect to have healthy gender relations when we are not even trusted to live within shouting distance of each other?
This year, visitation rules for freshman dorms were slackened. “Way to go!” I say with a triumphant wave of my walker. The next step is more coed dorms. The research has been done. We are truly an anomaly among colleges of our type. This is my appeal to the administration: let us take that next stride into the 19th century and let the boys and girls interact. We promise we’ll be good. And it’ll really help us out in the long run. When we leave Centre, some of us may be faced with the opposite sex on a daily basis, whether in apartment buildings, work or (gulp) marriage. God help the spouses of Centre College grads.
This is a call to arms. I know I am as guilty as anyone of the much-feared Senior Apathy. Today, I hereby renounce it. Where will apathy get us at a time like this? This is our time. Screw complacency. I say we quit croaking about the old days, get off our bedpans and start affecting the change we want to see. We have roughly two months to do everything we have always said we would do but haven’t, and all we always wanted to do but shouldn’t. This is my Senior Carpe Diem. Or, rather, Carpe the Last Sixty-something Diems Until We Graduate.
To the old man who asked whatever happened to "kickass underclassmen dorm parties like Rock the Nation and Mondo Exotica?": I can’t speak for the latter, but as for the former, do not count it out. You only hear from it once a year. Anything more could be deadly. Suffice it to say that the last chapter will whip the horse with a belt.
My time is up. I need a nap. My breathing has been a little strained lately, probably due all to the asbestos I must have inhaled during hours spent in East Hall. Don’t know what East Hall is? Of course you don’t. But no matter. Back to top...
A senior’s humble advice for the opinions section
Brydon Ross
Cento Writer
In the last issue of the esteemed Cento there was a call to arms by the opinion’s editors for more submissions and the hope that somebody would care enough to contribute some of their own thought to the publication. Well, here you go boys.
I agree with most of your suggestions but I think of few of them could be modified a tad. First of all, I think that most people are certainly scared to write anything that will be openly ripped apart by an all too willing audience of critics. Last December I wrote an article on the antiquated PE requirement and the reward for my efforts was an utterly embarrassing title change, from which I still receive grief (I am referring to the "What’s the Deal Pickle" incident).
From this humiliating experience, I have yet to receive any sort of written apology from the Cento so I guess by even writing this I am running the risk of another journalistic sabotage. What can I say, I guess I am just a glutton for pain and in desperate need of Spring Break funds.
I do see some areas of improvement that could be made in the layout and subject matter discussed in each issue. I think the reason most people publicly disdain the Cento is because it contains a miniscule amount of interesting information, much less hard-hitting journalism.
The vibe I get every time I pick up the latest copy is jaded cynicism splashed with just enough wit to satisfy the pseudo-intellectual scene’s ravenous desire for pointless satire. There must be something better to write about at Centre.
Here are my suggestions: No more Cowan "sucks" articles. This is one of the most tired and trite subjects in the history of the Cento because it is a redundant fact made prevalent three times a day.
Another recommendation, and I do not feel alone in this, is eliminating idiotic and disgusting commentaries about subjects like dating people who hack off their body parts. While I am a proponent of free speech, I do not feel it gives license to print filth under the pretense of "journalism."
I do feel that the opinion’s section is dead on about the social scene here at Centre. The lack of spontaneity is almost mind- numbing. There is no other way to describe it other than lame and mundane, badly needing a shot in the arm. However, I think the fundamental question has yet to be posed- why has Centre becoming a suitcase college? Nothing saddens me more than the mass exodus of cars on a sunny Friday afternoon, desperately trying to make it home so mom can do the weekend laundry. Whatever happened to going away to college and starting a new and exciting life without the emotional crutch and dependency of our parents?
All right, enough negativity. Here are some ideas to revamp the Cento’s content. Every year Omicron Delta Kappa presents a life stories convocation about the journey our faculty have taken to become educators. Why not have a spotlight on a professor with interesting stories or some valuable life experience they could share with the students outside of the classroom atmosphere.
I stumbled upon these revelations accidentally when a professor casually mentioned her past experiences working in the Peace Corps in Africa. Or, for example, one teacher I had at Regent’s College in London told us about the most frightening moment of his life when he spent several months in a Polish prison for speaking sedition against Stalin. There are thousands of stories waiting to be discovered that are sitting under the noses of the Cento staff because of stagnate and apathetic ideas that are constantly rehashed in every other issue.
Another feature that was discarded and is sorely needed today is honoring the student volunteer of the month with an installment in the Cento. It would be a nice touch to highlight a person willing to make a difference at this school when it is apparent that much of it is composed with people too concerned with their little worlds to care about the less fortunate that reside in Danville. Here is another idea: why not try to recruit young writers interested in expressing themselves in a public forum? Every winter term the English department offers creative writing classes to encourage and promote real and sincere literature. Even better would be to host a contest among those students in the class on poetry, prose and short stories and publish their works in the paper. Maybe this could lead to features where the talented young writers of this campus could have an outlet for their work.
If all of this sounds too generic and cliched, perhaps the Cento lacks controversial material. What about some actual reporting on the fact that last winter the athletic center was supposed undergo renovations, but never did.
Well, it is nearly April 2001, and as far as I have seen very little has been done. Since my freshman year the enrollment of this college has increased very steadily without the construction new dormitories. Now every possible room space on this campus is completely full and all that has been accomplished are short-term solutions of building rooms in the basement of the quad.
I would offer more suggestions, but I think that I have clearly made my point. My article is not intended to be a personal attack, just some honest critiquing from a concerned student.
If the Cento staff is serious about producing a quality newspaper respected among its peers, all it has to do is quit condemning the campus for being apathetic and try being innovative enough to try some real journalism. Back to top...
The tale of the invisible invisible minority
Anonymous
As I walked across Centre’s campus the other day, I noticed the signs advertising the B-GLAD convocation, "Out and About on Campus: The Invisible Minority."
For some, this is their favorite convo of the year, as they will be able to find out who’s coming out of the closet this school year. For others, it is just another convo, but for me, it’s a reality. I too am a gay Centre student.
I wish to digress after stating this because for me to make such a bold statement is a testament of my coming to terms with my sexuality, but importantly, it’s a testament of my cowardice. I fully understand the situation I am putting myself in by submitting such an article anonymously.
The Centre “rumor mill” will run rampant trying to figure out who I am, but if you do, you will totally miss the point of this article. The point is to enlighten others about how it is to be a closet case homosexual at Centre and in the world. Some may find my words consoling, as they too are faced with issues similar to my own.
Unlike Eric Abele or Kristin Clover, I could never find the courage that has led them to stand before the school and proclaim their homosexuality for all to hear. In many ways I envy them, but in other ways I am glad that I am not them. To open myself up to public ridicule would be disastrous as my paranoia would lead me to believe that I would just become that gay guy, fag or queer.
With less cynicism, the contrary could very well happen. People could be indifferent and treat me as they did before, but that seems surreal. In an ideal world, this would be the case. People would see me for who I am rather than whom I choose to date. My sexuality would be irrelevant, as it should be. I carry no distinct stereotypes of a gay male. I am often mistaken for a heterosexual, which I find ironic, considering that it is not the case.
Like many of us who appear different, whether it’s weight, race or sexuality that distinguishes one from others, I have experienced the ridicule. I have been the butt of countless jokes and have been associated with many rumors, all because I either walked, talked or dressed different.
The only reason I have even bothed to distinguish myself is to let others knowthat there are people out there like me. They too have gone though the denial and the depression that I have gone through, all because I am something that I do not want to be.
There were times when I used to hate myself and on several instances contemplated suicide. It seemed to be the only solution to ending the pain. I have often said that if there were some innovative surgery that could make me “straight,” I would rob, steal and maybe even kill in order to have the operation. I like many others did not chooseto be gay, but instead feel that it has always been apart of me. Over time, I have learned that the only choice that I do have is to be happy. But I have yet to figure that out.
I remember when I was younger, I always thought that the secret to happiness is to have a good job, a beautiful wife and lots of kids. But how practical is that life for me? So often have I been told that you have to play with the cards that you are dealt, but for so long I prayed for a second hand. I just want to be happy.
Since my freshman year, I have gradually become more comfortable with my sexuality, but I still have a long way to go. I am able to tell some of my closest friends with ease and acceptance. I am not sure if it is because they have gotten to know me or if they really don’t care in general. I still hear the jokes and the rumors, but instead of letting them get the best of me, I try to ignore them.
Friends can only try their best to relate to my situation, but they really can’t. They haven’t walked in my shoes. They don’t necessarily understand my situation, nor do they fear the same things that I do.
My biggest fear in life is not dying, but having to tell my family that I am gay. I don’t think I could bear their disapproval or their disdain.
I am supposed to be the good child—the model for the rest of the kids in the family. I don’t want to be the one to let them down, even though I know it’s not my responsibility. I just wish people wouldn’t judge others somuch and treat them as equals. If this were the case, then I would more than likely have no problem with professing my homosexuality.
My sexuality does not define me, but my character does. Because I don’t believe people actually feel this way, I choose to live a very lonely life. I have in a sense become the invisible, invisible minority. Back to top...