There is one thing that no college senior can graduate without: apathy.
Apathy is the very close cousin to senioritis. In fact, they kind of go hand-in-hand; not only do you avoid homework at all costs, you also don’t really care that you can never seem to remember what classes you’re taking.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was school spirited. I was on the spirit committee and hall council. Every breath of the Mary Washington air I breathed filled me with more Eagle pride. And, since I didn’t have a car, I spent most of my money at the bookstore on T-shirts and sweatpants, covered in pride for the undefeated sports teams we don’t have.
But on Friday at the pep rally, all I could think of was high school.
Maybe it’s because during my four years here, I have never seen so much UMW spirit in one place. Maybe it’s because the cheerleading team said I couldn’t sit near them because that section was reserved for the club I didn’t even know existed.
That’s probably it, actually.
I didn’t come to UMW because you can buy an eagle-printed coozie at every stationary store in Virginia. I came here because I wanted to learn from real people at a pretty place. And it’s important for us not to forget about that.
But saying that makes it sound like I actually care. I really don’t; I promise. I’m pretty sure the only thing going through my head on Friday afternoon as Hurley ran to the podium next to balloon columns was, “This is not real life. This is not real life.”
I don’t hate school spirit. And I actually really like the new website. I’m just beginning to think I hate crowds of people with opinions.
Last week, the only “news” to come out of UMW was about some protest somewhere. Actually, some protests anywhere. Ok, cool, you own Sharpies and poster board. Me too. But Sharpies should be used for constructive things, like drawing on friends after they’ve had too much to drink.
I went to New York to visit some friends last weekend. The absolute last place in the world I wanted to be was Wall Street. Luckily for me, I choose Washington Square Park instead. Unfortunately, Greenwich Village was the next Wall Street that day, as the protesters flooded into the park I was in.
Honestly, by the time they made it over to the park, I was hiding back in Brooklyn. When we were in the city, I saw police getting ready for action, but found out about the invasion on Twitter.
Hopefully, the same thing will happen this week when Occupy UMW becomes a thing. I’ll be hiding away on my roof on Princess Anne, while students riot unnoticed on Ball Circle.
It’s not that I don’t understand, I just don’t really care.