woodstock

were anyone from the outside to set foot on campus now, he or she would think this was a place of free love, barbecues galore, bare feet, and live music twenty-four hours a day. the campus is covered in paint, girls run screaming in sundresses, and boys drag their sound equipment outside to share their music with all around. makeshift tents cover the lawns, and roped off areas house kegs abundant. children and toddlers dodge around long legs, and everyone--faculty and students alike--keep an eye out. no where have i ever seen babies and booze mix so well (or so freely).

somewhere else on campus, doors are shut, and private gatherings held. smoke fills rooms, and it's the seventies again. when the dancing is done and the paint (and kegs) have run dry, girls totter home on bare feet. it's two a.m., but it feels like eternity and a day, as we stumble into bed, fully clothed--keys in the door, windows wide open--vulnerable to the world, but feeling all the while entirely safe. because, after all, these are the days. we are invincible, and this is rural maine. better yet, this is ___ college, and we have every prerogative to bask in privilege.

come monday, campus will fall silent, and reading period will begin. the libraries will stay open later, and the rockstars and redbulls will vanish from the vending machines. kids will be crazy without the adderall they've managed to pawn for a few bucks a pill. papers are due at all hours of the night (this is college, and yes, they can do that), and exams (taken far too seriously by all) approach full throttle. so, there is work. so, there is stress. still, we are privileged. still, we are blessed. professors leave their families to serve us nachos at midnight. librarians bake for days to make sure the cookies don't run out. how can we possibly complain when, all things (the economy included) considered, we have the world at our feet. especially those of us not graduating. still growing, still discovering.

but alas--it is only saturday. night two of loudness continues. more booze. more pot. more woodstock madness for all (whether or not they choose it). as for me, i've had my fun and i'm trying to regain focus. onto intranasal delivery of cells to the brain. and then female contraception. and perhaps post-traumatic stress syndrome, if i have time. tomorrow holds the world in it, and i know it with all my heart. rich, preppy, white kids abound--and i find myself one of them, as much as i hate to be..because i am here. at colby college. and i am privileged. and the faculty, staff, and deans here really would give me the world (or at least the benefit of a doubt should i really screw up).

nowhere like college can you make mistakes of a lifetime and have them smoothed over so smoothly. when you represent an institution, you must have the appearance of succeeding. they'll sit you down, show you your options, and tell you never to apologize for yourself because you are deserving and worthy. so, why is it that in the end, the entitlement scares me and makes me sick?