During my O-Week, back in 2009, some seniors informed me that, to their incredulity, I had to be discreet about getting drunk. The shopping cart full of 40s that they had been distributing around the quad had been confiscated. It was clear from the onset of my time here that there was beginning to be a shift in how drugs and alcohol were handled at Reed. The word around campus was that the fatal heroin overdose a year and a half earlier had cemented Reed’s reputation as a “drug school,” and was negatively affecting enrollment. The administration was trying to kick this reputation, and had adopted a newfound zealotry when it came to AOD violations, but some habits are hard to break.
Ben There II
My freshman year dorm room overlooked the front lawn from the third floor of Winch. O-week was unusually gorgeous, with the sun beaming, and from my perch I watched the hacky sack and frisbee circles that I was barred from being part of. The doxycycline confined me from sunlight (see last week’s “Ben There” at reedthegrail.com) so I either paced my room or took solo walks through the canyon. The roommate of my divided double was a junior who, being abroad, had missed out on the housing lottery. When he arrived after O-week he vetoed democratic process and usurped the mutually desired inner room. “I didn’t want a roommate but they were out of singles,” he told me.
Ben There
Tufts offered me 35k and Reed couldn’t give me a dime. “We’re sorry,” they’d said. “You seem like a great fit. But our deadlines are really that strict.” My senior year of high school had been a period of dissociation. Circumstances involving the hospitalization of a loved one and my own arrogance had lead to me turning in the non-custodial parent profile for the Financial Aid CSS profile a week late. “You know, if you take a year off, you can reapply for aid,” someone at Reed told me, “I can’t make any promises, but our aid is better than Tufts’.”
Tufts was solid and straight-laced. It foretold a future in a suit. Reed had a different allure. The first recording of Howl took place at Reed, and in my estimation that made Reed worth taking a year off for. I worked landscaping until all of the fall leaves were cleared away. It was good money and my savings stacked enough to let me travel through winter. I had an ambitious plan. My friends were homesick college freshman scattered around the country, more than willing to put me up for a night, so I charted a U around America, planning to go down the East Coast and up the West. A buddy gave me the last of the weed he’d harvested that fall. I’d never smoked much, but the bud was soothing and I’d freed myself of obligations. Landscaping had also left me sore, and smoking helped with the headaches that I had begun having.
Punkdeia
Paideia went punk. Junior physics major Julia Selker organized Punkdeia at an off campus house the Wednesday of Paideia 2014. Completely autonomous from Reed, Punkdeia was a daylong progression of Paideia-style classes, several of which would likely not have been approved by the administration. But first some history. Julia was embroiled in the controversy that racked Paideia last year.
As Paideia Czar for the 2013 Paideia, Julia had been responsible for all of Paideia. She collected and went through the proposed classes and met with Community Safety and Facilities Services who looked for safety hazards and ensured that no buildings or trees would be damaged. The CSO check was pretty rudimentary. They made sure the liquor courses would check for IDs and the teacher of the straight razor class wasn’t a budding Sweeney Todd.