Flying through suburban Connecticut, I reclined on the navy leather train seats across from two girls whom I had met on the Wesleyan listerv, one from New York City and the other from Los Angeles. As we chatted about our respective school systems, people we knew in common, and other perfunctory pre-frosh banter, I couldn’t help thinking about WesFest ahead. Although I had visited campus twice before on overnights, the possibility of a PCU-esque experience was still alive- a terrified pre-frosh swept into a wild world of conservative brown-nosers combatting the liberal crusaders of every cause… or something like that.
Arriving on campus, I was accosted by a tall roller-skating wonder (clad in helmet of course), lecturing about the importance of the preservation of chalking as a medium of free speech in relation to the LGB… community and learned that President Doug Bennet had ordered a ban on the practice. I was amazed that on a campus that promotes itself as a place of freedom of ideas and expression such action could be taken. I was sure to write FUCK YOU DOUG. Twice. And I usually limit my profanity.
Central campus rang with the airy beats of a steel drum band, a BBQ was set up, and I sat on Foss Hill admiring the soft sunshine of the spring day, removing my shoes to dig my toes into the wet grass, a moment of luxury for a city girl.
For the rest of the day, I met with my future swimming coach and team, attended a stimulating American literature class discussing the theme of nativisim in “The Great Gatsby,” saw the newly renovated film building, laughed hard at Gag Reflex, and partied like someone from Iowa released into an urban jungle of fantasy.
Everyone seemed so unnaturally joyous at your school- so free, so open, so healthy, so active- coming from a dark, miserable, complainer filled high school it was completely refreshing. I cannot wait for August 2004.
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