As a recent alum and staff member on campus, I’ve had the opportunity to- and in fact have been asked to- spend some time thinking about how to build bridges between different parts of the community (Students, Faculty, Staff, Alumni, Parents), as well as within those groups. We’re such a small community that any distance between these groups almost feels magnified – we are our each other’s support network. Working on bringing the community closer together was my favourite thing to do back when I was a student, so it’s really a joy for me now that they’re paying me to do it! Well, these past few months have been a little busy for me, but now I’m back. And I’m very interested in hearing your feedback on (and/or support for) my thoughts.

First of all, let’s look at bridges that are currently in place. Advising families are structured to give students and faculty a point of contact over the course of the semester on a professional and personal level. SAC invites staff and faculty to major events like Dare to Diva and Spirit Week, and organizes kickouts to really encourage this bonding. Also in that vein, the seniors have a Faculty/Staff party at the end of the year. More recently, Banter was set up to connect older alumni with students on a professional level. At last month’s SLACfest, students and alumni worked out a number of new initiatives to improve alumni-campus connections, including an alumni-written newsletter filled with interviews of on-campus Oliners. The Student-Staff Bridges program is a low-intensity conduit for conversation between these different communities. And, thanks to a push from parents, LinkedIn is now a viable way to reach out to parents in different parts of the country for all kinds of assistance.

Building bridges is intended to be a gratifying experience – it feels good to learn about people who do cool things and are part of the same ‘tribe.’ But efforts often flounder or feel ineffective. The reason is simple: if one half of the interaction doesn’t find sufficient personal benefit, they won’t prioritize the connection. At some level, we all ask: “What’s in it for me?” They might go out and participate just for the sake of the other party… but they have lots of other things that maybe feel more important. So is there space for these efforts in a community as busy as Olin’s?

Definitely! Having solid connections with members of our small community in different spheres actually makes our lives easier: When we know and understand one another better, we can be more effective in all of our other efforts. We just need to understand how to build those connections in a manageable way. So looking ahead, what do we have and what do we need?

I’ll generalize: Students have skills, enthusiasm, and time (if properly compensated by credits, cash, or chow). The key to connecting with students is to a) do what they’re already doing, with no added effort on their part; b) make their work more effective or efficient, c) pay them, or d) create a compelling interaction for them that is, itself, worthwhile. Faculty and certain staff are connection powerhouses. They have big ideas and the resources to deploy them, as well as the incentive. What they generally don’t have is time. To successfully connect with this group, be prepared to have much of the engagement proceed independently, with the contact points being intense, brief bursts. Other staff, alumni, and parents simply want access to, and connection with, the community. Actually, some don’t, but I’m ignoring them for the purposes of this article. Those who do will spend time, as well as the resources available to them, to give back if they feel that their efforts are a) having the desired impact and b) appreciated. Unfortunately, this group also lacks the ability to deploy effectively on campus.

And what about the subset of Olin community members who are both staff and alum, are on the StudentEvents mailing list, and are a contact for the Parent Advisory Board? What does that subset have? Well, it has a single member: just me! And I have a wish: For more successful bridgings to take place. What do I need? People I can help! I can be a ‘connector’ all on my own for you – if you have plans but you don’t know who, in another group, you should talk to, please feel free to ask me. And I’m willing to put the time in to work on executing larger-scale projects in this space. I have ideas; you have ideas. Let’s chat!

I’ve been asked countless times, “why are you vegetarian?” yet every time, the question stumps me. I usually just say, “meat doesn’t seem like a food to me,” and then struggle to explain what that means. I have been vegetarian since I was three, but I could never attribute the reason to any environmental, ethical, religious, or health causes. Recently, I think I’ve finally found a cohesive answer to this question in some articles by Paul Rozin, an influential author on the subject of disgust.

There is a type of disgust that makes us withdraw from things that remind us that we are fundamentally biological creatures. This disgust involves things such as death, corpses, and violations of the external boundaries of the body. It is called animal-nature disgust, and it differs from core disgust, the fear of incorporating offending substances with one’s body and interpersonal disgust, direct and indirect contact with strangers or undesirables. The latter two types of disgust are meant to prevent contamination of our bodies and keep us from getting sick. However, animal-nature disgust is different in that it has a strong connection to fear of death. Just like animal bodies, human bodies die. I do not eat meat because it reminds me that we, like animals, are vulnerable and mortal.

We’re all familiar with the ‘Do Something’ mantra at Olin. Ask the person down the hall, the studier in the lounge, or the person sitting next to you to name the values of the Honor Code, and you can be sure that they will at least name Do Something. We see it in the title of emails and the closing sentiments in recruitment propaganda. We hear it in praise of starting awesome activities, sarcastically called out when no one volunteers to take on improvements, and as advice to the first year frustrated with a class or club at Olin. The Honor Board is just as guilty of throwing around Do Something as other organizations and individuals.

These are the actual words to the Do Something value in the Honor Code: “I will strive to better myself and my community and take responsibility for my own behavior. When I become aware of a violation of the Honor Code or an issue within the community, I will take action towards resolution of the situation. I expect others to do the same.”

If we were to summarize, this is basically a call to arms – it’s certainly about addressing personal behavior and actions that have broader impacts, but it is also a call to engage in actively promoting the Honor Code. Furthermore, it is open to interpretation – what does it mean to ‘strive to better my community’ or to ‘expect others to do the same’? If we aren’t actively striving to do these things, perhaps we are all in violation of the Honor Code.

Historically, there have been very few Honor Board cases that have been seen purely as a violation of Do Something. Some of this has to do with the ambiguity and broadness of the clause, and some has to do with the pain of determining whether or not someone was ‘striving’ enough. However, Do Something is called out almost daily. As a congratulations of good deeds, as a broad solution to any problem, as a guilt tactic to recruit the few volunteers we need to run all of the various organizations and events on campus…

Why? As a community, do we really need to be reminded to Do Something (anything) so often? Is there perhaps a reason why we aren’t doing anything?

We’re stretched thin right now. There are, oft claimed fondly, “more clubs than students.” We’re a community that prides itself on the independence and ability of the students to be involved in every aspect of life here: academic, service, social. We take it upon ourselves to load our plates with activities because we think we need to, because they’re ‘good for us’, because they’re ‘good for others’, or because no one else would do them.

We need to stop. As is so treasured at Olin, maybe its time for us to reflect as a community on what it is we ACTUALLY value. The Honor Code is supposed to be a tool to reflect the position of the Olin student body at this moment. The way in which we use Do Something doesn’t necessarily gel with the verbiage right now. Should it?

We all ‘pledge’ to Do Something when we sign the honor code, as written. We’re not signing to have Do Something held over our heads every time an email is sent out. We’re not signing to have to participate in every aspect of Olin culture. However, we are signing to ‘do the right thing’ as the community deems fit. Whatever that might be – participating in student government, meeting with professors to improve a class, helping out peers who have fallen on hard times.

Next time we are asked to Do Something, perhaps we should start asking “Why do we have to?” Is there a good reason that this is being asked? Is this going to better us as a whole? Are we as individuals currently ‘Doing Something’ at the moment?
And next time we tell or ask someone to Do Something, perhaps we should start asking “Why can’t I and why should they?”

Dear teenage me,

You probably thought that by now I’d be brimming with advice and important life wisdom that I needed you to know. I thought I’d think of plenty of anecdotes to tell you.

Now, I realize I am not sure what to say, which I guess is a good thing. There is no amazing advice I need to give you. No secret message to fix everything. Could you do college differently? Of course. Could you have a better relationship with your parents? Obviously. Will depression come back, self-esteem continue its roller-coaster ride, and your room remain messy? You betcha. But, that’s ok. That’s life.

What I guess I do want to tell you, though, is that you haven’t gotten that good at all things you want to be better at. Well, I mean that I’m not yet what you consider to be good. You want to command a room like your friend Mark, be able to make friends with anyone like Isaac, and crack jokes like Roi. You have a whole list of ways you could be a better person and another whole list of people you want to be like. Well, like I said, you can’t speak like Mark, you’re still a bumbling mess around strangers, and your jokes are still equally hilarious, but mostly only to you.

I can say that you’ve slowly realized you don’t need to be like Mark or Isaac or any of them, because no one can tell a Shane story or plan a spontaneous adventure like you do. You can make people feel comfortable around you, your sarcasm is so good that most people don’t even get it, and you’re still really funny. Yeah, of course I am going to keep practicing and trying to get better at all that other stuff, but just remember to look around and see all the things you’re good at too. I count at least 3 talents, but counting might not be one of them.

– Shane