Fall 2008 -- Keep watching!
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Don't Judge First Call by Its Cover: Changing How People Think about Penn I read about Wharton’s 2003 secession from the University long before I knew if I would become a psychology student who “planted subliminal messages in the Wall Street Journal,” a Whartonite “who lacked the reading skills to absorb the subliminal messages properly,” a member of another group, or of two at a time. Brian Hertler (C’05) created these categories in a December 2003 satire piece, and they provided me with instant, valuable information about campus stereotypes. I had just spent an entire semester in tireless exhaustion, looking for a locus of bitter sarcasm on the campus or a commentary more current than The Practical I was itching to read about Penn’s sub-cultures, since freshmen were choosing methods beyond their hall assignments for identifying themselves. What would come next? Ethnicity? Common interests? Popped collar preferences? I wondered what Greek life was all about. How did concepts newly learned by hundreds of freshmen in Introductory Psychology apply to the freshman clique breakdown process? As a shy beginner in all of these matters, the only truth I knew was that reading about news or campus events or arguments about the increasingly distant outside world was vital but decidedly not enough for a 10,000 student campus. I was shocked, then, during a Winter Break Google treasure hunt when I discovered the campus’s only burst of true, weekly commentary writing that, at the very least, preserved a record campus discourse for posterity. I resolved to join the eight page weekly magazine that appeared to be a newspaper, and I marched back to campus in January, ready to take the next turn in the college maze. When I arrived, FC myths about former editors, scandals created on the newspaper pages, and thick, dark clouds of controversy hid themselves neatly in the corners of the Wharton Journal’s office. By the time I was writing articles with titles such as “To the Arrogant Northeast Liberal Elite” and “Generation Yawn” in my sophomore year, barely anyone outside my immediate social circle batted an eyelash; First Call’s splashes of provocation remained in the memories of faculty members alone. Otherwise, FC was printed, distributed, and discarded, while few people noticed. On so many late nights, I wished for the complete opposite: friends (usually Anna Stetsovskaya) and I stayed up late, envisaging a First Call that would transform the way people thought about their lives while they were attending Few entities are able to alter a reader’s worldview by simply using the printed word and an occasional illustration. When either of these vehicles forces the recipient to question valued personal assumptions and arrive at new conclusions through disciplined thought, a worldview has been altered, and a mind has actively engaged in further development. A commentary ideally has no other mission besides this one. Professor Alan Charles Kors once suggested that if a person were to be transported back in time, it would be possible to learn how to survive, or to be familiar with the era’s great political struggles, or even to embrace the day’s social conventions (after perhaps a few gaffes), but grasping how people in the period conceived of the world around them would be, in all likelihood, an unachievable feat. The time traveler would view his new world in his old terms. My college dream was to produce a magazine that would challenge personal paradigms, thereby developing the minds on this campus (and my own), and would also create a more vibrant intellectual discourse, which can seem to be squashed by the overwhelming pre-professional mindset. I believe that interested college students should have access to a publication that strives to disseminate original, persuasive arguments regarding campus issues. No amount of self-segregation, obsessive ruminations about “the future,” or pure apathy should block the actualization of this goal. Heck, we are going to spend the rest of our lives partaking in the three previously mentioned activities, and so seeing college students minimize intellectualization and spontaneous interactions while they hide behind a wall of identical friends is depressing. If you are the kind of person who likes to sit up at night and just talk, without instantly judging those who are different, and without affixing a large red cup to your lips at all times, take a minute to stop and look around for awhile, like Ferris Bueller did. Think about how you can change this campus’s culture, and then try to do it. You’ll learn infinitely more from trying than you will from succeeding.Lauren Saul is a senior in Wharton and the College. You can write to her at lcsaul@wharton. Putting Down the Pompoms: I Was a First Call Cheerleader Anna Stetsovskaya If First Call Magazine stopped printing, you might not notice. It’s already tucked away into the lowliest of campus spots, printed on flimsy paper in humble black and white, and published by maybe 10 Penn students who truly care about its purpose. Yet for some reason, I devoted my college education to First Call. After three years of namedropping First Call to almost everyone I met, I consistently meet people who didn’t know what this magazine is. This always astounded me. Now that I’m finishing my first semester away from First Call, my senior spring, I can see what they mean. When you aren’t immersed in First Call, it just fades in the background with the other “alternative” publications on this campus. You can’t expect students to carry a DP and a First Call at once – or can you? I joined because in the fall of 2003 I was a freshman with a lot of free time. I saw First Call in Commons and read a satire about Wharton seceding from the rest of the university. It was funny and well written, so I joined (thanks, Brian). I almost quit a year later, but my editor convinced me to stay on (thanks, Rob). I only became truly infatuated with FC, though, when I realized what I could do with it. I became First Call’s cheerleader. I looked not at what First Call was at the time, but what it could be – a smart and funny alternative to the DP. I knew Penn students could read something everyday, so why not a weekly magazine composed entirely of student opinion? I envisioned kids impatiently looking for the new issue every Monday, reading it in class, debating articles with their friends. Nothing strokes an editor’s ego the right way more than your paper being consumed by the eager masses. First Call is Penn’s faithful underdog. Penn needs First Call for those students who are just a bit more inquisitive and creative than John Q. Pennizen. First Call was there when I was a freshman looking to make a small impact on an unfamiliar place. I hope First Call has been there for you, too: whether you’ve had your piece published or simply chuckled at the back-page crossword from the issue just lovingly shoved in your hands on the way to class. Also, we come out every 2 weeks, not once a semester, and that’s a badass undertaking. But First Call is only as good as its weekly submissions. This element of surprise is what keeps FC exciting. What are real Penn students, not columnists or administration mouthpieces, thinking? Every issue of First Call has an answer. Right now, for example, 2500 Penn students are thinking about graduation. We’re also thinking about the last four years and how much partying we can cram in to the next 30 days. I’ll miss Penn, but I know I’ll never be too far from here (the Penn Fund will make sure of that). I like to think my First Call articles made a miniscule dent in campus discourse somewhere along the way. I’ll put the metaphorical pompoms back in the closet along with the unfortunately literal $50 graduation gown I’ll never use again. Real world, here we come.Anna Stetsovskaya is a senior in Wharton. You can write to her at astetsov@wharton. Comments Post a Comment |
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