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Discussion of Olin culture, policies, etc.

What Does It Mean To “Do Something”?

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To say there has been a lot of student upset towards the College is, perhaps, to put it mildly. There is a certain call-to-action in the air: Students at every point in their Olin journey want more dialogue, more power, and more institutional change. In this time of undeniable friction, what does it mean to Do Something as an Olin student? Is being a voice for change our right or our obligation? And, perhaps more pressingly, how does our answer to that question as a community change based on the identity of the Oliner in question?

This essayist presents Bipolar I: a tale of psychosis and, perhaps, the path of least resistance.

During my first involuntary hospitalization, a Bipolar I diagnosis and an unsolicited prognosis were given to me hand-in-hand: “College probably isn’t in the cards for you.”

As you might imagine, I took that advice and ran… far, far away from it. It may be an uphill battle more often than not, but I’m here at Olin. I’m here. More important to our discussion today, though, is that my psychosis is here with me.

Once I got to campus, I didn’t wait long to seek psychosis-related accommodations at Olin. I didn’t know what to even ask for, or if I should be asking for anything at all, but I knew I needed to try. I stumbled my way through that initial meeting best I could, both overexplaining and underexplaining the hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions that I knew would make my time here difficult.

I’m a junior currently—things may very well be different now. But what will always be true is that Olin College’s first accommodation offer to me was a smart pen: a note-taking accommodation. I’m not ashamed to say I cried real tears at that point in the meeting.

At the time, I was told that flexibility regarding my attendance would be considered an “unreasonable” accommodation. Reading through the Binder of Accommodations Past, few of the reasonable accommodations seemed like they would make a difference in my case—and of course, that makes sense, if we think about accommodations as a way for someone experiencing unique challenges to have a similar class experience as their peers. How can we accommodate psychosis in our classrooms? I don’t think it’s possible or desirable. While measures can certainly be taken to reduce a psychotic student’s stress, ideally reducing the likelihood of an episode, there is a certain amount of waiting-it-out and not-being-in-class that must be done should issues arise. So, I argue, psychotic students should be allowed leniency in their attendance. Nonetheless, I was on my own in this department, and I Did Nothing. I didn’t know how to express what I was feeling to Olin College, and the accommodation policies were reinforcing what I already felt: That I could only really be an engineering student as long as I had enough good days in a row.

When I came back to school from my second involuntary hospitalization this past Spring (we win some, we lose some), I was initially told I would need to have weekly check-ins with Olin College regarding my mental health for the rest of the semester. Whether these check-ins were intended for my benefit or to assess my stability is still not clear to me. What I can say is, they were certainly not to my benefit. I Did Something: During one of these check-ins, I expressed the stress I experienced over feeling like I had to give up more of my privacy than other students 100% of the time due to the more extreme experiences I encountered 1% of the time.

I was told hospitalization “changes things.” I would come to understand in time how accurate, if vague, that statement was. While these in-person check-ins transformed into email correspondence as the semester progressed, the feeling that I was being tested remained, and the idea that the College was just waiting for me to slip up eventually morphed into one of my recurring paranoias.

Olin College has opened so many doors for me and truly given me some of the best opportunities, friendships, and faculty relationships of my life. I cannot express enough how grateful I am to attend this school, and I will be the first to say that my accommodations of flexible deadlines and being able to leave class unexpectedly have greatly benefitted me. At the same time, Olin College has failed me, too—and for me, the functional result of Doing Nothing and Doing Something regarding my disability was the same. 

Over time, I began to craft a new idea of what Doing Something in this department meant: Instead of trying to change how the institution responded to my psychosis, I invested more time in my own health and the health of my friends. I Did Something Quiet. I supported my friends and learned to accept their support in return—simply that.

So, we return to our fundamental questions: What does it mean to Do Something as an Olin student? Is being a voice for change our right or our obligation?

These days, with all the building pressure and dissatisfaction felt by the student body towards Olin College as an institution, I cannot deny that I feel an expectation to Do Something Institutional, both because I am an Oliner, which is its own conversation, and because I am disabled, which is this conversation. 

I believe that, as a student, being a voice for change is my right, not my obligation—so why, as a disabled student, do I so often feel pushed to speak?

Ultimately, yes, the College’s response to my disability has degraded my student experience to an extent. However, being told to Do Something Less Quiet in response to this—to Do Something Louder, Something Bolder, Something Inciting—makes me feel more like an outsider than an Oliner. And I wonder if other Oliners of other identities feel the same way. While I absolutely agree that speaking out is important, to say that Olin’s improper approach to my disability obligates me to speak out feels, to me, like it politicizes my identity as a disabled student. This seems dangerous: I carry my disabled identity with me everywhere I go. Do I then also carry the burden of representing psychotic people with me everywhere, too? A burden made even greater by the fact that there are so few psychotic students at Olin to even join the fight?

I take my right to my voice as a student seriously. And yet, why should my right to live my Olin life in quiet, treading my desire paths and supporting/being supported by friends along the way, be taken any less seriously? If I choose complacency for the rest it provides, am I less of an Oliner? What does it mean to Do Enough, and who decides?

I sit here, writing this article now because when times were at their toughest for me as a psychotic student at this school, I slept. Sleeping protected my mental stability and therefore my ability to be an Oliner. In a similar way, I believe Doing Something Quiet protects many students’ ability to be Oliners. I see no shame in it—and yet, I feel shame in having been quiet for so long. If that’s you—if you carry an identity with you as quietly as you can—keep going. Know that I have decided. I am Doing Enough. I am Oliner enough. You can decide the same, if you’d like.

Any and all thoughts appreciated: adeeter@olin.edu. Thanks for reading.

Follow-Up On “Olin Is Racist”

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When I sent in my first-ever article to Frankly Speaking a month ago, I didn’t expect people to care so much. It was mostly a vent and a way to call some people out on their actions and let them know they need to improve.

But people listened, and honestly, that restored a lot of my faith in Olin. I have been watching and listening, keeping track of how others have reacted, and some have improved their actions and even apologized to black students for their past micro and macro aggressions. 

I have been amazed by the way Oliners of all backgrounds have responded to my article. Some told me it made them finally feel seen, others said they weren’t surprised, but that it made them think more critically about this community, many sparked conversations because of it. Thank you for listening, and thank you for caring for those who chose to learn from my experience rather than see it an outlier.

Not all the responses to my article were positive, though, Some people forgot about the article immediately after reading it, some refused to read it after seeing the headline, some say it was exaggerated to cause drama—I’ve even heard some people believe that I’m not really black and that this was trying to smear Olin’s reputation. 

Let me make a few things clear: nothing was exaggerated, the experiences I described in my article were real, and I am currently a black female student at Olin. In fact, I left out some horrible details.

The best thing to come from this article was that this helped strengthen and bring the black community at Olin together. So, if you are struggling with racism at Olin, come to a USB-C meeting. We can’t fix the system, but we can support you and give you a space where you are heard. 

Other black students have shared with me that they faced similar experiences to mine. Many black students and staff have been told explicitly that they don’t belong here because they’re black. Many black students are called by the wrong name by their classmates and teachers, and we don’t say anything to avoid fights, but it hurts. When working on projects and research, our ideas are often ignored, and we have to push extra hard for a single idea to be considered. These racist practices have been normalized at Olin, and that is what makes for such a toxic environment. 

Many unconsciously believe that we can’t be racist because we are a small, liberal engineering school in Massachusetts. The answer is that everything is rooted in racism in the USA. Spaces like Olin that try to pretend systemic racism doesn’t exist, will only perpetuate the problem. The only way to actually combat racism is to talk about it. Acknowledge how your privilege will disadvantage others. Recognize the power you hold over others. Stop believing that you aren’t the problem. We all are, including me. If you want to learn more about confronting internal bias, I recommend reading some of Ibram X. Kendi’s books, many you can get through the library. To those who claim they want to change, here is your first step. 

Olin says it wants to get better, but know that I will keep watching. I will keep providing a safe space for other black students. I will follow intently everything the administration does to better support their students. 

Be better Olin, I’ll be watching.

Double the Roommates, Triple the Fun!

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At this point in the housing process, you might be asking yourself: “Why would I choose to live in a triple? Isn’t it just worse than a double?” We wrote this article to challenge this idea on the grounds that when a triple is formed voluntarily, it can actually be a better experience than doubling—particularly for current first-years.

The primary benefit that a first-year has to gain from tripling next year is a route to living in an East Hall room. The brunt of our argument is going to be about this; as such, this article might be of less interest to upperclassmen who are guaranteed space in East Hall already. However, we noticed that during room selection last year, many of our peers (then first-years) strongly preferred a West Hall double over even an East Hall triple. This instinct—which mostly comes from a fear that triples will be physically and socially uncomfortable—is what we are disputing. 

Let’s talk about physical space first. Despite common misconception, our triple in EH419 is incredibly roomy. Altogether, we have three beds, three desks, three dressers, one minifridge, three milk crate shelves, two coffee tables, one bookshelf, two grappling hooks, one parking gate, and an extremely comfortable beanbag (that’s over seven extra pieces of furniture!). With thoughtful organization, we’ve kept a central floor space open for large gatherings, and a cozy reading nook fit for three. Taking additional steps like lofting a bed (which double rooms are not guaranteed access to) and leaning into vertical storage space has only made our room feel bigger.

Besides the stellar physical layout, we enjoy how our triple has allowed us to embrace a communal living style. Each roommate has a desk, a bed, and some closet space to call their own, but “ownership” of certain drawers, shelves, beanbag(s), and fridge space has completely blended together. For example, one of the dressers in our room serves as clothing storage in one drawer and shared dishware in another! When a roommate has a need, we all pitch in to meet that need—collectively. Shared grocery runs for snacks and medication have become commonplace, and instead of splitting the cost an even three ways every time, we simply rotate who makes the trip. We’ve found that we’re able to consistently lean on each other when we’re sick or busy, and that’s because of the significant trust we’ve built up as housemates.

This is all to say that we’ve learned a lot in the process of making our triple experience a successful one, and we’d like to offer guidance on how you can, too. In particular, there are a few archetypes of triple residents that make for an exceptional rooming experience: 

#1 – The Host: You love having groups of friends over, and you want a space that can be utilized as a prime hangout spot. Our room functions in this capacity: we regularly host groups of five or more friends, and we’ve run events like the Halloween Coffee Bar that have comfortably fit 20+ people at once. If you’re especially excited about suite life, consider that the spacious triple room functions as a lively suite lounge, especially with furniture additions like ottomans and tables.

#2 – The Traveler: You probably sleep in your room and not much else. Whether you’re camping in the woods, studying in the library, or just hanging out in the antelounge until 4am, “room time” isn’t a priority. By choosing to triple, you get the benefits of a large home base that isn’t wasted when you’re out and about.

#3 – The Homebody: Your priority is having a comfortable space to decompress and work. Though it might seem counterintuitive, this type of person can be a great fit for a triple with the right configuration of roommates and clever physical arrangement. A triple can look like a comfortable, quiet, and symbiotic relationship between three of these kinds of individuals—and this person can also make for a great combination with a Traveler or two!

A lot of our success has hinged on a willingness to communicate openly and compromise. Our roommate agreement, along with regular “family meetings”, gives us space to establish and modify rules as needed. For example, we decided that if one roommate wants to sleep, all socializing moves elsewhere – no questions asked. This is one way we’ve become comfortable setting and respecting boundaries, and as a result, we can make compromises before they become problems.

As an extension of this idea, it is important for you as a community member to acknowledge that your housing preferences exist within a broader context. By considering triple formations that you would feel comfortable living in, you’re helping ResLife make space for other residents that have particular housing needs. If you’re nervous about tripling, consider that there may still be a configuration that you would feel happy in—and take steps to find one!

The final thing worth considering—specifically for first years—is that you should plan a triple configuration because you might just have to live in one. Planning for this outcome will save you from a surprise roommate scramble on room selection day if your place in the selection order isn’t what you expected. That being said, we hope you’ll find that, like us, your triple configuration and future room will be preferable to any double.

If this article wasn’t convincing enough, then let us show you rather than tell you. Come to EH419 on the evening of March 6th to get a sense of what your triple experience could look like next year. We’ll have snacks!

Olin Is Racist

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I came to Olin so excited to learn and innovate. I had high hopes of becoming a great engineer, making great friends, and doing important research with kind professors. Overall, I have been satisfied with my classes and this community. I have great and understanding professors and strong friendships. I am learning in a way that finally fits me, and for once I don’t feel out of place. But I am not okay and not happy. I have been holding this in for a while to avoid causing trouble, but I won’t be silent anymore. 

Once, when I first got to Olin, I was in the library reviewing some course material. As I was studying, an upperclassman who I had never met approached me and stood next to my seat, looking at me very intently. I greeted them and asked if I could help them with anything. They responded curtly, “People like you don’t belong here.” 

I was shaken and said the first logical thing to come to mind: “If you mean here at Olin, I am here to become an engineer.”

The upperclassman smirked, then remarked before walking away, “People like you don’t seem like they would be good engineers.”

For a second, I was confused by what they meant by “people like me”. Women? Did they think I was a BOW student? Why me over anybody else in the library?  

I then took a good look around and realized what that upperclassman meant. I was the only black student in the library. I was the only black woman in the library. 

What the upperclassman meant was: Black women shouldn’t be engineers and don’t belong at Olin. 

That hurt me more than I could ever express in words. After that interaction, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Someone felt so strongly that I didn’t belong at Olin that they went out of their way to tell me, just so I would know my place. And no one else in the library piped up to defend me, came to comfort me, or even shot me a sympathetic look. Most even turned away. 

To some, this might not seem like a big deal, but it was. I am no stranger to racism and sexism in the STEM world: I was bullied out of coding camp at age 10 by a group of boys who insisted that girls are “too sissy to handle computers.” In 7th grade, a teacher had students pass around my perfect score test while announcing “if someone like [my name] can get a perfect score, then anyone can succeed in my class”. When I got a spot in AP Computer Science in 11th grade, some boys at my school started an online campaign against me, saying that the “diversity spot was taking away seats from guys who actually deserved it”. 

I came to Olin because I hoped that a STEM school run by an esteemed black female engineer would be better, and would be an inclusive and uplifting environment. Yet someone felt so much hate at the idea of a black woman being at Olin and becoming an engineer that they had to tell me that the community I worked so hard to become a part of didn’t fully accept me and never would. That broke my heart because my dream, my safe space, my community, were now gone. Despite this, I will stay in a space that is set against me and I can’t change it alone. 

Despite my crushing disappointment, I pushed my doubts from that interaction aside and let myself believe that it was just one person and the culture at Olin is different, but it’s not. 

In my time at Olin, I have experienced more microaggressions than I can count, been left out of team talks because my input “didn’t seem necessary”, and my mental health has been ignored by both students and staff alike. I even had another interaction with a different student who told me that I “don’t seem like the typical engineer”, and that maybe I should “reconsider if Olin is the right place for me”. This prejudiced culture has had horrible impacts on my mental and emotional health. I frequently had panic attacks last semester and developed an eating disorder from pent-up discomfort, rage, and insecurity that I felt nobody noticed. I have been close to fainting and no one ever asked me if I was okay. 

I never said anything because I knew that if I told others, no one would care. People don’t care if the black girl is unhappy, if she is in a bad place mentally, because to most, we are forgettable and negligible. That is just a historical fact. I have seen students see me have a panic attack and walk past me laughing about how I’m “so extra”. And when I have shared my story people zone out, say I “overreacted”, or pretend to care only to forget the next day. 

The first person who listened to me about the library incident was Gilda. She was the first person who noticed I was struggling and took the time to talk to me and share her own experiences, so I didn’t feel so alone. I was surprised by the fact that Gilda, an esteemed and respected engineer and certifiable genius, also faces racism at Olin and has also had many students come up to her and tell her “you don’t belong at Olin” and yet they are never able to explain why.  

It is crazy to me how someone as wonderfully kind as her receives so much hate from the student body, but I have noticed the ones most vocal with this hate are white.

Now, I am not trying to imply that all students at Olin are racist and discriminative. I think there are a few who are, but the majority of the student body and some of the staff have clear internal racism that they haven’t addressed. They need to examine their own bias or truly think about where some of their opinions come from. Everyone holds some prejudice—it’s a sad fact about our world. If you don’t work to dismantle your own prejudice, then you are part of the problem. 

Olin as a community is racist, and we can’t keep ignoring it.  

As a community, we value black students less than other students and lack open spaces where black students feel safe enough to express these feelings. This is what Olin is, and we need to change.

CORe Needs to Change

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When I came to Olin in Fall of 2021, it was the tail end of the pandemic and clubs were starting to rebuild from the previous year. I am an avid coffee drinker, and Acronym was a large part of the reason why I chose Olin. Joining Acronym allowed me to deepen friendships and get to know older students who I wouldn’t have spoken to otherwise. As a senior, the majority of first years that I interact with are the active Acronym members. I don’t believe that this is a unique experience, and clubs have been the most important experience for me to engage with the Olin community. 

At the beginning of my sophomore year, a friend and I were told that we were now in charge of Acronym. We were told that we could no longer use the Admissions desk, and changed the location to the library. Through the location change, we doubled attendance and made Acronym a space for casual conversations with professors and course assistants. 

At this point, Acronym was classified as an organization. All organizations had to exist for at least a year and received a budget. Clubs were generally smaller and met less often. Clubs had to request money from CCO whenever they wanted to spend, as they were not given a budget. In the ‘22-’23 school year, there were only twelve organizations and twenty-two clubs. 

After running Acronym, I wanted to join CCO to help provide others with the same positive experience that I had from my clubs. I was the Vice Club Chair last year and was the Club Chair until my resignation last semester. My job as Vice Club Chair was to fill out reimbursement forms for all of the clubs, and I normally processed only a couple hundred dollars a week. Last year was the first year that CCO got rid of the clubs and orgs structure, and every group received a budget. There were forty-two groups last year, with an overall budget of $28,000. Most groups did not receive enough money, and the student activity fee was increased. 

This year, there are sixty registered groups that receive funding from CCO and the overall budget is $55,000. My job was to work with the Vice Club Chair to allocate budgets, process all p-card payments, and make sure groups are spending their money. I also ended up filling out reimbursement forms, and all reimbursement requests were completed up to my resignation. I was processing thousands of dollars each week and constantly stressed over making sure I was filling out forms correctly. 

I received limited support from the Student Government Advisors. There was a significant amount of misspending in the fall, and the advisors were too busy to help me. They also asked me to not use the Honor Board to deal with misspending, because they told me they would handle it. They completely forgot about helping me for a month, and more incidents kept happening. 

I was spending at least 20 hours per week doing CCO work. I devalued my homework, wasn’t able to apply to grad school, and delayed my search for full-time jobs. On the date of my resignation, I received an email from my design depth professor saying that I didn’t have enough completed assignments to pass the class, which means I wouldn’t graduate. I was considering resigning for two weeks and this email solidified my decision to resign. I was able to catch up on work, and I am on track to graduate this spring.

This shouldn’t be allowed to happen. Student Government should not be burning students out the way it has this year. 

For Staff:

  1. Hire a full-time person to support Student Government. Stop making students do the work of full-time employees. Be upfront about your bandwidth to help students. 
  2. Pay Student Government positions. Students involved lose time to have other paid positions or take more classes.
  3. Hire a new Academic Life Administrative Assistant.

For Students:

  1. Be more understanding and respectful when engaging with CORe.
  2. Go back to the clubs and orgs system. Cap the number of student groups allowed. There does not need to be this many groups for a student body this small. This needs to be done through a constitution change, as the advisors are not willing to deny creation of groups. 
  3. Do not allow for a system that might compromise students ability to graduate and have a future after Olin.
  4. Blame the system for the current reimbursement procedure. There are many reimbursements to be done, but individual students don’t cause the underlying problems of CORe. 
  5. Recognize when something is causing harm to your wellbeing and stop doing it.

Founding Precept: Service

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“The College, itself, the product of philanthropy, should find ways to contribute to its community… with services natural for it as an educational institution. Policies must be maintained that support these outcomes.” – Statement of Founding Precepts for Franklin W. Olin College of Engineering

Greetings from the SERV board! With the start of the new semester, we are encouraging you to use SERV (Support, Encourage, and Recognize Volunteerism) as a resource and make community service a part of your routine.

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Olin SWE is on a Mission

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At the national SWE conference in Houston this year, 3 out of 10 finalists for best posters were from Olin. Earlier this school year, Olin SWE taught several girls in Newton’s Science Club for Girls about engineering.

These activities help Olin SWE fulfill the mission of the Society of Women Engineers: to “stimulate women to achieve full potential in careers as engineers and leaders, expand the image of the engineering profession as a positive force in improving the quality of life, and demonstrate the value of diversity.” This is done through professional development, outreach, and education. As anyone can be part of this mission, members are not required to be female.

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Qualified: Public vs Private

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Were you part of the 66% of Olin students who felt unqualified at some point during your first year at Olin? Have you ever blamed your high school background for not preparing you enough for Olin? Similar questions have been asked by multiple U.S. colleges. Interestingly enough, different studies show extremely different results for these controversial topics. A study published by the U.S. Center on Education Policy found that when comparing students who had attended private and public high schools, there was no difference in achievement tests, college attendance rates, or job satisfaction in later years. Essentially, this study found that the difference between a private and public high school education didn’t matter much in the long run.

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Reviewing the Honor Code

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How many clauses does the Honor Code have? What are they? Take a minute and think about it.

It turns out that only a small number of students really knows them all, as we found out last spring when a majority of the student body voted to append the Sunset Clause to the Honor Code, which states that unless the student body ratifies a new Honor Code, it will be abolished and OSL policies will be instated in its place. This amendment was intended to serve as a motivator to the college at large to start thinking about whether or not the Honor Code still reflects the values of current classes. This is not to say that something is wrong with it. The intention is to figure out how to encourage the student body to feel ownership of the Honor Code.

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