Your Election Day Plan

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Heading down to the Community Center to vote today? Good. Now, I want you to ask yourself a few simple questions, and hold yourself accountable to your answers:

Where is the Community Center? It’s down the hill, behind the KAC, but I want you to picture it. Which precinct do you report to once you get there? (Everything north of Aclands is in Gambier A, Aclands and everything south of them are in Gambier B. Check the link to confirm your polling location.)

When are you going? Were you planning on voting right before your afternoon workout, or after your morning exam? When does your spare half-hour usually fall? Polls are open between 6:30 am and 7:30 pm; it’s fast, it’s easy and even if you have work to do you definitely have the time.

How are you getting there? Are you driving? Are you walking? Are you riding down in one of the shuttles leaving from Peirce? Are you going by yourself, or with a group of friends?

What do you need to do in order to be ready to vote once you get there? Have you printed your proof-of-address (if not, you can find it by searching your email history for ‘accounting@kenyon.edu’)? If you don’t have it, do you remember the last four digits of your Social Security Number?

These questions may seem patronizing, but your answers are important (you don’t have to tell me, or anyone, but you have to know them). If you are an athlete, you already know the advantages of visualizing yourself at peak performance; the same holds true for voting. You don’t want to realize at 9pm tonight that you no longer have a chance to do that thing you’ve been forgetting about all day: voting. When you visualize the when, where and how of the process, that is far less likely to happen.

So, to recap:

  • Polls are open today from 6:30 am til 7:30 pm
  • Voting is taking place at the Gambier Community Center (115 Meadow Lane)
  • Shuttles will be leaving from Peirce all day
  • Bring your proof-of-address; if you don’t have it, make sure you remember the last four digits of your Social Security Number

Make a plan and hold yourself accountable. Your community is depending on you.

What our Study Told Me

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In my original post summarizing our study of medication at Kenyon, I included just enough of “me” to ruffle some feathers without adequately explaining myself. I felt that simply putting out the statistics that one in four Kenyon students have a prescription for an anti-depressant, and that one in three had used study drugs, among other things, wouldn’t get people thinking. This was especially the case given the fact that, as I pointed out, we implicitly knew those statistics already. I was shocked at the levels of anti-depressant prescriptions we found (I was expecting high reported levels of ADD/ADHD medication use, both prescribed and non-prescribed); I wanted to take a stab at why I thought I found them, and why my findings should lead us to do some serious soul-searching about the way we live our lives. I should have either said more or nothing.

So here is more:

I found it particularly interesting that my points concerning ADD/ADHD medication went essentially unchallenged while similar points concerning anti-depression were described as “highly offensive” “illness shaming.” Because of this, I will talk about depression, although most of these points are transferable to ADD/ADHD.

I think that we live in a culture that tells us we have a right to be comfortably happy, and that children of high-achieving parents live in a culture that tells them that they have a right (and responsibility) to be a good student. We’ve been told since we were two years old that everyone is equally special, and we’ve been told since we were five years old that we, in particular, are rightfully above average. The moment we don’t feel special anymore, or the moment we don’t feel above average anymore, we aren’t told that it’s okay; we’re told that we have a problem, a problem that can be solved with medication. And I think that there is something seriously problematic with a culture that sends these messages as they are, by definition, mutually exclusive. If we are going to have a serious conversation about our prescribed lives, one of these cultural axioms is going to have to give.

I think that medication such as Prozac and Adderall are supposed to be last resorts. Taking them comes with serious side effects, not the least of which is dependency, and even many who need such medication to function decide that the negative side effects aren’t worth the benefits. While there is no doubt that they do a lot of good for the people who really do need them, since when do one in four people revert to their last resort for anything? But when we are bombarded with ads for Prozac and Vyvanse on a literally minute-by-minute basis (I can’t watch anything on Hulu without seeing seven ads for Vyvanse per episode) and are surrounded by our friends, parents, teachers and doctors who, with the best intentions, tell us that we don’t have to feel the way we do, is it any wonder that what is considered a last resort becomes a second or even first resort? It is any wonder that the awkward phase in high school becomes a medical condition?

The funny thing about rights is that they define our terms for the way the world “should” be. If I have a right to be happy, but I’m not, then something is inherently wrong with the way that the world is working. If I’m supposed to be doing well in school, but I’m not, then clearly there’s a problem outside of my lack of interest in Social Studies that is causing the world to be out of whack. It would appear that we, the budding American elite, can’t be unhappy and can’t under-perform. We are self-defined joyful overachievers who sometimes need help self-actualizing.

*At the risk of offending those who actually do have a chemical imbalance irrespective of circumstance and are predisposed to feelings of depression, THIS IS A GENERALIZATION. And, to address a pet peeve of mine, “generalization” doesn’t have to be a dirty word.*

When I was diagnosed with situational depressive disorder early this semester after an excruciatingly rough week that involved a romantic tragedy of epic proportions, I found myself thinking exactly that: my life was “supposed” to be different because I was “supposed” to be happy. But, after a while, I started sleeping regularly again, got my appetite back and accepted the fact that I was going to be unhappy for a bit and that was just the way things were going to be. Emotionally, I was a wreck: I couldn’t focus in class, I lost interest in the things that made me happy and I felt like nothing would ever get better. But, biologically, there was nothing inherently wrong with me. I let myself hurt, and then I let myself get better. Life is supposed to suck sometimes.

But when the American Psychiatric Association prepares to modify its guidelines for diagnosing major depressive disorder to include feelings of depression brought on the by death of a loved one within two weeks of the loss, it encourages us to see hardships as medical conditions. You should feel unhappy when you lose a loved one. That’s natural. The idea that such feelings constitute a disorder is, to me, distressing.

And what makes me so certain that this is a cultural phenomenon at least as much as it is a medical one is the feedback I have gotten from international students. Practically unanimously, they have described their amazement at the pervasive use of medication among American students, usage levels that are unheard of for them. Like me, they didn’t realize when they first got here that there was a pill for literally any mental hurdle you could come across. And before you stop me to say that our lives are harder or more stressful than those from abroad, ask yourself whether life in suburban New York or rural Ohio is really that difficult compared to places that, in some cases, have been struggling to provide basic services and civil liberties for their citizens for decades. Being happy is a preference; it isn’t a right. If you don’t believe me, ask someone who isn’t from this country.

But let’s say I’m wrong, and that each and every prescription filled out for an anti-depressant is completely necessary. Then look around New Side and tell me if two people at every full table (one each at the wall tables) has a chemical imbalance that, after all other options have been exhausted, a prescription is necessary to remedy. Then, tell me that there isn’t anything wrong with that, and that this is “just how it is” at a liberal arts college with a competitive admissions process. If this is the case, it is perhaps even more indicative of something being seriously wrong with the lifestyles we have been told to lead. If getting into a school like Kenyon can’t be done without tripling your chances of picking up a prescription for anti-depressants along the way, maybe we as a culture should re-evaluate the premium we place on being above average.

At any given point in February, it wouldn’t surprise me if a quarter of the student population had the Krud; I find it incredibly hard to believe that such a proportion would, or should, exist for a psychological disorder. As I mentioned in my previous post, a proportion that high calls the use of the word “disorder” into question. If a quarter of Kenyon students really are depressed then our depression isn’t a disorder, it’s an epidemic.

The (un)Prescribed Life: Kenyon Students Medicating Heavily, with Questionable Legitimacy

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Overheard at Kenyon:

Student 1: Wait, where do you get your Adderall from?

Student 2: Chelsea, but she needs a refill soon. It’s cool, I have another hookup.

Every Kenyon student has heard conversations like this one; under-the-table Adderall (or other study drug) use has been standard practice in academia for a long time. But no one is ever sure if the stories they hear are representative or exceptional. How many Kenyon students are actually turning to Adderall to get through their classes?

I, along with psychology major Joshua Samuels, just completed a study in an attempt to quantify this anecdotal evidence that study drug use, among other forms of self-medication, are increasingly commonplace and socially acceptable as part of our college experience. Our survey was conducted online from Monday, April 22nd through Monday, April 29th and received responses from 374 students, nearly a quarter of Kenyon’s student body. We received levels of responses from various demographic groups (class standing, gender, race, etc.) that were in line with Kenyon’s student composition; given the level and nature of responses, we can be reasonably confident that our results paint a relatively accurate picture of Kenyon students’ behavior.

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

In a recent New York Times article, it was reported that eleven percent of American children, including nearly twenty percent of high school boys, are diagnosed with ADHD. Moreover, two thirds of those who receive a diagnosis also receive a prescription for a stimulant, such as Ritalin or Adderall, in an attempt to treat the disorder’s symptoms.

And Kenyon is no exception. In our study, 11.7 percent of Kenyon students reported having a prescription for ADD/ADHD medication.

But some in the psychology community are becoming increasingly skeptical that such high levels of diagnoses are either necessary or beneficial. And given the behaviors of those who do have a prescription, their skepticism may be warranted. Only 30.5 percent of Kenyon students with a prescription for ADHD medication reported taking their medication on time; a majority reported taking their medication only up to half of the times they were supposed to and students were more likely to completely ignore their medication than to take it on schedule:

Clearly, a significant percentage of students who have medication prescribed to them consider themselves perfectly able to function day-to-day without the use of their medication. And when a large number of pills are prescribed and not taken, a surplus is created. This surplus, as you can probably imagine, is used to spur academic performance:

To put these charts in perspective, if you line up ten Kenyon students, one of them will have a prescription for ADD/ADHD medication, which they probably won’t need, and at least two others who don’t have a prescription will have used such medication for the sole purpose of writing a paper or studying for/taking a test.

While an imperfect comparison, these findings are in line with prior literature, mentioned in the Times article, which pegs the percentage of ADD/ADHD medication that goes to non-prescribed friends at about 30 percent.

ADHD has historically been estimated to affect between three and seven percent of children, but, as pediatric neurologist William Graf notes:

Mild symptoms are being diagnosed so readily, which goes well beyond the disorder and beyond the zone of ambiguity to pure enhancement of children who are otherwise healthy.

And while current levels of diagnoses are already at record highs, the number is only expected to increase. As the Times article says:

…even more teenagers are likely to be prescribed medication in the near future because the American Psychiatric Association plans to change the definition of A.D.H.D. to allow more people to receive the diagnosis and treatment.

…The final wording has not been released, but most proposed changes would lead to higher rates of diagnosis: the requirement that symptoms appeared before age 12 rather than 7; illustrations, like repeatedly losing one’s cellphone or losing focus during paperwork, that emphasize that A.D.H.D. is not just a young child’s disorder; and the requirement that symptoms merely “impact” daily activities, rather than cause “impairment.”

There is no official test used to diagnose ADHD; psychiatrists evaluate patients based on extensive conversation with the patient, their parents and teachers. It is also common practice for doctors to allow their patients to “set their own dosage” by prescribing increasingly high levels of medication until the patient finds one that “feels right.”

Given the choice, many psychiatrists would rather wrongly diagnose someone with ADD or ADHD than to turn a patient away when they really do have a disorder. While this thinking is certainly not without merit, it opens the door for pharmaceutical companies, parents and patients to push for diagnoses that are increasingly unwarranted.

Depression

While self-reports of ADD/ADHD prescriptions were high, 23.4 percent of respondents reported having a prescription for an anti-depressant, twice the rate of ADD/ADHD prescriptions.

The Center for Disease Control estimates that depression rates for Americans over the age of twelve is around eight percent.

As seems to be the case with ADD/ADHD, it could be that depression is heavily over-diagnosed. After all, one in four is an awfully high proportion for any psychological disorder, almost high enough to call the use of the word “disorder” into question. Like the third grader who doesn’t want to do their homework and winds up with a prescription for Ritalin, there’s a fine line between having an awkward phase in high school and having a persistent clinical disorder – a line that probably isn’t crossed as often as we think it is.

In conjunction with the findings related to ADD/ADHD medication, these numbers on anti-depressants could speak further to the idea that we are becoming increasingly reliant on pills and less reliant on each other when dealing with emotional stress/anxiety/hardship. While there’s no doubt that in many cases medication is, at least temporarily, necessary and does a lot of good, we may find it all-too-convenient to get a prescription instead of investing time in talking out our issues.

These sentiments aren’t new to the psychiatry community. University of New South Wales, Australia Professor Gordon Parker has spearheaded the growing concern that depression is being used to describe normal feelings of sadness, at the behest of pharmaceutical companies that have a vested interest in using depression as a “catch-all” illness. As the Guardian wrote:

[Professor Parker] said the drugs were being marketed beyond their “true utility” in cases in which people were unhappy rather than clinically depressed.

…the “over-diagnosis” of depression began in the early 80s, when the diagnostic threshold for minor mood disorders was lowered.

His 15-year study of 242 teachers found that more than three-quarters met the current criteria for depression.

Prescription anti-depressants are taken more regularly, and more responsibly, than ADD/ADHD medication. 59.8 percent of respondents with a prescription for anti-depressants take their medication on time; 19.6 percent reported never taking them:

Furthermore, only 6 percent of respondents who did not have a prescription for anti-depressants reported taking them for the purpose of coping with their environment. At Kenyon, using “happy pills” is practically nonexistent compared to the use of study drugs.

Anxiety

While our survey didn’t dive as deep into the use of anti-anxiety drugs as it could have, one interesting finding was that a higher percentage of respondents without a prescription for such drugs reported having taken them (16.0) than the percentage of respondents who reported having a prescription (12.7). Furthermore, students with a prescription for an anti-anxiety drug were even more likely to never take their medication (40 percent) than students with a prescription for ADD/ADHD medication (32.2 percent).

Perceptions

Not only are Kenyon students’ self-medicating behaviors high in volume, they’re freely discussed to the point at which Kenyon students are uncannily accurate in estimating the extent to which their peers are engaging in them. When asked what percentage of the student body they thought had used study drugs, the average estimate was 33.45 percent (actual percentage: 34). When asked to estimate the percentage of Kenyon students who take anti-depressants, the average prediction was 28.66 percent (actual: 23.4).

Perhaps the fact that study drug use is so candidly discussed is the reason that when respondents were asked to rate their favorability towards people who engaged in various activities, study drug use was barely rated unfavorably (3.41 on a scale of 1-7, with 1 being totally unfavorable, 4 being neutral and 7 being totally favorable), and was rated less unfavorably than cigarette smoking (3.25):

We are past the point at which everyone simply knows of someone who abuses study drugs, we are at a point at which everyone has a few friends who do it and find it socially acceptable to talk about it openly.

Perhaps the most shocking result of our study is that the results aren’t all that shocking. The volume, knowledge and acceptance of study drugs and anti-depressants on our campus should lead us to take a long, hard look at ourselves. Can we call ourselves a healthy community when one in three of us are taking academic performance-enhancers and one in four of us are depressed? Do we really need these drugs?

It would seem that the answer to both of these questions is: no.

For a more comprehensive look at the results of this study or to request its data, please email Jon Green at greenj@kenyon.edu, Joshua Samuels at samuelsj@kenyon.edu or the Kenyon Observer at tko@kenyon.edu.

Non Habemus Primus Minister

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The election of a new pope is usually a time for celebration in Rome, with the city’s more devout Catholics welcoming their new spiritual leader, alongside thousands of pilgrims from around the world. And undoubtedly, the city’s less devout still welcome the tourism money those pilgrims bring with them. But Jorge Bergoglio was not the only man who stood for office in the Eternal City this month. Just a few miles from the Vatican, a much more temporal election took place—that to determine which party or coalition would rule Europe’s third largest economy. And as is more often than not the case in Italian politics, the election’s only real winner was cynicism.

One can’t help but feel sorry for Mario Monti, Italy’s beleaguered outgoing Prime Minister. An uncharismatic, centrist technocrat, Monti has done his best to fix, with unpopular but needed austerity measures, the mess left behind by his irresponsible predecessor, Silvio “Bunga Bunga” Berlusconi. After forming a government in 2011 at the behest of Italy’s leftist President, Giorgio Napolitano, Monti has spent the past two years trying to reform Italian fiscal policy. The larger threat to the Eurozone meant that Monti had to take drastic steps to prevent Italy from veering off into a Greek-style debt crisis. These measures included higher taxes as well as spending cuts, and to highlight his commitment, Monti even waived his own salary, something that would have been unthinkable to his billionaire predecessor.

At first, Monti’s efforts seemed to pay dividends. Before the election, Italy was predicted to have a primary budget surplus of 3.5 percent of its GDP this year. But it wasn’t enough. Unemployment has risen to over 30 percent for young people, and the economy shrunk by 2.3 percent last year. And while Monti’s policies were lauded in Germany and the rest of the E.U., they were unpopular with an Italian population that was tired of austerity. As a result of this, Monti’s party fared poorly in the election, retaining just over ten percent of the vote. It would seem he was much too reasonable to succeed in Italian politics.

Before Italians went to the polls in late February, the party which seemed most likely to triumph was Pier Luigi Bersani’s center-left Democrats and their left-wing coalition. The fractured nature of the Italian left meant that this coalition included a wide variety of regional parties, along with the more “fringe” elements of the far left. Campaigning against both Monti and the right, the Leftist coalition seemed to be the party with the best prospects of forming a government. Yet in the end, they won less than thirty percent of the vote, and control of the lower house of deputies. But control of the senate—and the ability to form a government—escaped them.

The right-wing coalition came in second, with only slightly less of the popular vote. Leading this group was none other than Silvio Berlusconi, Italy’s eccentric and wealthy former Prime minister. A man who The Economist once declared “the Man who Screwed an Entire Nation” , Berlusconi has a closet overflowing with skeletons, and makes gaffes with the best of them. In terms of policy, Berlusconi campaigned on a shamelessly populist opposition to austerity, and despite his myriad of personal faults, the Italian electorate responded. Il Popolo della Liberta, The People of Freedom, ended up winning 125 seats in the Chamber of Deputies, and 117 in the Senate, against the Democrats’ 123. The lack of a majority for either party means that unless a coalition is formed, there can be no government.

The “wild card” in the race—and the party which has attracted the most outside media attention—is the “Five Star Movement” of Comedian Beppo Grillo. Originally formed via social media in 2009, the movement was meant to be a direct response to the perceived corruption and incompetence of Italy’s entrenched political elite, which for Grillo included both Berlusconi and Bersani. The “five points” that their name refers to are development, connectivity, environmentalism, sustainable transport, and (public) water. Although on social issues the group tends towards the left on some issues and right towards others, they are also “Eurosceptic”, meaning that a Five Star controlled government would likely be at odds with those in Germany and elsewhere trying to hold the Eurozone together. The movement is unsurprisingly popular amongst young, cynical voters, yet it does not seem to have a truly cohesive “ideology”. Mr. Grillo is closer to Ron Paul than Stephen Colbert—a determined insurgent who has a clear beef with the political establishment, yet whose populism hides a lack of workable ideas. While the Five Star movement should theoretically be the most flexible and pragmatic party, Grillo has so far rebuffed (rudely) offers from both the left and right to form a coalition government, despite the Five Star Movements twenty-five percent of the vote meaning that such an alliance is the only way they could feasibly govern.

Realistically, the Five Star movement, while well-intentioned, will likely be more of a hindrance than a help for Italian. Few of their ideas, such as free internet access, have anything beyond novelty value. Any coalition including the Five Star movement would have a difficult time working to solve Italy’s major debt crisis. Furthermore, Grillo’s talk of leaving the Eurozone has already made other European leaders skittish. It is hard to imagine the single-currency surviving without Italy, and it is hard to imagine the Italian economy recovering unless it remains in the union. If the main goal of the movement has been to disempower the political elites, it has certainly succeeded. But Italians may soon realize that those elites were a necessary evil.

So, between these three faction—the right, the left, and the disillusioned, what middle ground is there? None of the three major players seem willing to make the sacrifices which a coalition would require. Yet despite Mr. Grillo’s rhetoric, Italy needs a government. And it needs one soon. The Italian economy remains sluggish, and much of Mr. Monti’s work restoring faith in Italian markets has already evaporated. The worst case scenario is Italy sliding into a lengthy recession, as Japan did in the nineties. Given the massive political fragmentation which accompanied that decline, the parallels are disturbing.
It would be easy to blame the Italian electorate for putting short term interest ahead of long term stability. But that would be unfair to a country which has already endured years of austerity, and whose politicians have consistently been corrupt, incompetent, or both. And while it may be easy as an outsider to mock a figure as ridiculous as Silvio Berlusconi, he continues to win (or at least remain competitive in) elections. With the Italian Left hopelessly fractured, and outliers like Grillo making a mockery of the entire process, Italy has few better options. The Italian voter isn’t the problem—it’s the Italian politician who needs fixing.

Berlusconi is, first and foremost, a businessman. With his vast media empire, he has applied to first rule of news—“Give the People what they want”—to his political campaign. Italians do not want austerity, any more than Greeks do. But in order to save their economy, that is exactly what they need. So Italy’s hypothetical political savior would end up pushing policies not unlike those of Mr. Monti. The key difference is that he would do so without Italians realizing it. A leader who can maintain the personal popularity essential to holding together a coalition, while instituting painful but necessary reforms, is what Italy should be hoping for. In essence, Italy needs a swindler—someone who can push austerity without Italians realizing it. But for the time being, Italy has no government, and few prospects of one. For the time being, the various factions seem content to fiddle while Rome—and the rest of La Repubblica—burns.

Recap of a Recap: Manning Manning Manning

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Today’s Collegian features a review of Gracie Gardner’s production, Manning Manning Manning, that, as its own author would say, “boasted solid [writing] and high energy, but was ultimately perplexing in terms of what themes it was trying to convey.”

The review praised the show while at the same time refusing to like it, commending the actors and, for the most part, Gardner’s use of them in one breath while picking out less-than-crucial elements of the 45-minute play that apparently should have been expanded on in the next. It (rightly) praised the versatility of Phoebe Rotter ’14 and Allie Lembo ’14 in their roles as the Greek chorus, inadvertently pointing out the fact that the two of them conveyed in 45 minutes what it takes most plays ten actors, 90 minutes and seven costumes to pull off, but then complained that the show didn’t take enough time to flesh out the themes it was taking on.

But that was the whole point: Manning was a bare-bones production and intentionally left much between the lines. Having also been at the show this past Sunday, I would agree that it was ambitious, covering a lot of ground in its 45-minute running time. But I also thought that Gardner did an incredible job of saying what she needed to say with dramatic concision, efficiently taking on the male-dominated football culture of the South from a female perspective with seven actors and about sixty square feet of space.

With no seconds and no square inches of stage space to waste, those who wanted the storyline to be drawn out and spoon-fed were setting themselves up for disappointment.

As the author would put it, “The [review], in the end, was muddled and murky. Was it a [careful, nuanced critique of an overall successful production, a stubborn refusal to embrace a creative take on an uncommon theme, a complete misinterpretation of a production not meant for the passive observer] or all of the above?

In the end, what really puzzles me about the Collegian‘s review is that it eventually admits that Manning was actually quite successful in accomplishing what it set out to do. It recognizes the play’s intentional limitations on time and development, but only after wasting numerous paragraphs disparaging them (or missing them altogether, it’s hard to say):

When viewed as the first act of a play, as Gardner intended…Manning stands as a funny and promising segment of a larger work.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

What Happened to No Cell Phones on Middle Path?

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It’s one of Kenyon’s most well-known, but endangered traditions, and I’m definitely not the first to lodge this complaint, but I’ll go for it anyway: What’s up with all of these cell phones on Middle Path?

Most of us knew the ins and outs, as well as the rules, of Middle Path by the time orientation was over. There are certain things that aren’t a good idea, and certain things you just don’t do. It’s probably in your best interest to avoid wearing good shoes on the gravel; you’ll destroy them. But we never needed a rational explanation to know that you don’t walk through the Gates of Hell when the midnight bells are chiming and you really don’t use your cell phone on the path. Ever.

The principle sounded petty at the time, but as I look out on Middle Path and see a girl staring into her phone as she walks, unable to tear herself away from cyberspace and look up at what is an absolutely stunning early evening, I can’t help but feel that she’s missing out, and that what she’s doing is less-than-right. Sure, she isn’t hurting anybody by being absorbed in her phone (unless she walks into someone), but something feels viscerally wrong with what she’s doing in a way that it wouldn’t if she were staring into her phone while walking elsewhere on campus.

Ignore the phone call, step onto the grass if you must (it’s really not that hard), but Kenyon was founded long before the cell phone and will exist long after students are communicating telepathically. So put the technology of the current aside for a second and take the opportunity to share in as something as simple as walking from point A to point B with students past, experiencing this one sliver of our time here as they did: phone-free.

We don’t get that many opportunities to experience Kenyon in the same way it was experienced a century ago. We have more cars to dodge, more places to go to and more allstus to send. We can no longer park our horses under Old Kenyon, but we can call up the Cove at 1:30 am and have various kinds of deep-fried cheese delivered to our door within the half hour. It would seem that one of the few things we do have left in common with our predecessors is the ability to be present on Middle Path, unimpeded by buzzing or jingling from people who are anywhere other than walking next to or past us. In the interest of preserving the few connections we have to those who came before us, surely we can resist the urge to venture into cyberspace in the five minutes it takes us to get from South Quad to the Market, let alone the 90 seconds we spend on Middle Path between classes.

We’re told that part of going to college is the questioning of tradition: when we see things that are done simply because “that’s the way it’s always been done” we’re supposed to raise a skeptical eyebrow and ask why. This can make simple, unwritten social regulations, such as not stepping on the seal in Peirce, seem like unnecessary inconveniences unworthy of our recognition.

But when asked about our ethos as a community, what defines going to Kenyon, these little traditions tend to pop up in conversation. Bring a friend from another school to Peirce and the first thing you tell them is “Don’t step on the seal!” They aren’t going to fail any classes; they don’t even go here. But part of being on Kenyon’s campus means that you don’t do certain things. These traditions are part of what define us, and recognizing that definition lowers the skeptical eyebrows of the incoming would-be seal-steppers and Middle Path-texters.

Go to any established college campus and you will find quirky traditions that define what it means to go there as opposed to another college. At UVa, you streak the Lawn at least once before you graduate. At Colby you stay up drinking all night on St. Patrick’s Day, then meet with the entire student body on the steps of the library to watch the sun rise (it’s called Doghead). At Christopher Newport University, you are given a penny during Freshman orientation that you must keep your entire college career; you then throw that penny into the Canadian geese fountain after you graduate, wishing luck to remaining and future students.

Absent these traditions, would our Kenyon education change? Of course not, but our Kenyon experience would. Not only would we be further removed from previous, technologically lacking alumni, we’d be more like all of the other college students across the country who don’t have that one spot on campus where it isn’t OK to be plugged in.

So, as petty as it may seem and as silly as it may sound, to keep Kenyon Kenyon and literally for old-times’ sake: no cell phones on Middle Path.