In my none-too-distant years at Wesleyan my fondest memories are of two campus institutions: Olin Library and McConnaughey Dining Hall, affectionately deemed MoCon by those lucky enough to have patronized it. Most closely resembling a spaceship in architecture, I found little about it alien, as it was a place where I truly felt at home. Times change, people change, climate changes, college campuses change. When Fauver Field was replaced with student housing, I shed a tear. When The Alumni Gymnasium became the Davenport Campus Center, I shed a tear. Sorry, it is the Usdan Campus Center; my memory appears to be going as quickly as Wesleyan landmarks.
When MoCon was shut down I thanked my lucky stars that it happened after I had graduated. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think I had this foolish idea that it might someday rise from the depths. When I came back to campus there were three things I wanted to do: a special visit to the third floor of Olin, shower at Freeman Athletic Center, and eat at MoCon. With that last possibility about to go I say, “Don’t let it.”
Is there really nothing else that the space[ship] can be used for? Can Talib Kweli not return to once again declare that “Wesleyan is whack?” Perhaps he was a bit of a prognosticator, or perhaps I simply couldn’t see the forest for the trees at that point. Yes, I was immersed in the idea that we were unique and different, and that by attending school there I was as well, or at the least a part of it. If we let all of the distinctive features of Wesleyan go, what are we left with? I know that some things must change, that we must adapt, survival of the fittest and all that. I’ve never been great with change that isn’t collecting coins in an old plastic tub once filled with twizzlers. Change is such a popular word these days; it was the platform upon which we were meant to be catapulted into a new political era. Change is healthy, change is good, but like everything else, moderation has value. As a nation we are young, we are still discovering our identity. Finding one’s identity within the landscape of a place still finding its own, that sounds daunting. When I was there, Wesleyan was a place that knew what it was. That “it” was a little different for everyone, colored by perception and taste, but let’s keep the “it” alive.
For most, MoCon was only a reality their freshman year. Even those numbers dwindled as Spring semester marched on. As an athlete (and avid eater) I spent the better percentage of all of my dinners at MoCon; I loved them all. Drunken [and sober] speeches made from atop the stairs? Jackasses dropping cups? Cheering for dropped trays? Hey parents read this thing, right, so I’ll leave out a few of the more colorful experiences of my time there. I am sure many of them could have taken place at any dining hall venue. But the point is that they didn’t. The point is there was a special charm to nervously perusing the crowd from the top to see if you had friends there, to having unsuspecting parents caught there, unaware of the traditions of MoCon speech-giving. The one time I looped through Usdan I felt like I may as well have been in a doctor’s office. I’ve spent plenty of time in those too, so no thanks.
Every generation says it of those that come after them, that they are becoming more sterile, more antiseptic. Perhaps there is a glimmer of truth to all of these statements, so let’s not grow anesthetized and apathetic. With all that is going on in the world these days, it might seem silly to fight for a cause like this one, but every little thing sets one more in motion. We have to start somewhere.
My
Only
Concern is
Ostensibly
Nonsense
I might just be one more nostalgic graduate chronicling his glory days (how sad to think they are in the past), but if I do so, it is so that all the current WesTechers can have glory days of their own. The facilities color our faculties; let that not be beige. No matter where I end up in life, Wesleyan will always be worth it to me. Let’s keep it that way, one MoCon at a time.
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