In my final editorial for the Tripod, I wonder, what do we owe our campus in our capacity as Trinity’s only student newspaper?
It is no secret at Trinity this semester that AD has been shut down, for an undetermined amount of time. Upon reaching out to Director of Campus Life Initiatives and Social Houses Kathryn Wojcik, she indicated that she could not comment on the situation out of respect for the fraternity brothers.
What respect do we owe AD? They have clearly done something wrong (again) as they have consistently done since my first year at Trinity. If I am waiting outside in the freezing cold in the middle of the night over the weekend, as the social culture at Trinity so strongly dictates I must, don’t I, and our community, have a right to transparency? In my final editorial, I would like to call on Trinity to leave behind its elitist, exclusive groups.
Why are student leaders in Elm and Key (ranging from Greek Life organizations, cultural houses, student government, motivational speakers, etc.) meeting in black robes, under the impression that they are better than anyone else? Why do sophomores pledging fraternities get to decide which female students are attractive enough to be let into the crucial social gatherings of the weekend? Why doesn’t the administration address these problems? After my recent article, putting an end to the secret societies seems like an obvious task.
When I speak out against these closed, oppressive groups, I am constantly told they are the ones bringing Trinity its money. It is useless to try and reform them. After all, editorials critical of the fraternities have run in the Tripod since George Will ’62 first suggested that they need to be ceased entirely (my own opinion on the Greek Life system is, ironically, not as far left). But, as a casual observer of Trinity’s finances, I wonder, where is all this money that fraternities bring in?
In terms of endowment, why do we lag dramatically behind the NESCACs that do not have Greek Life, or those other familiar bastions of traditionalism we associate with Trinity?
I absolutely love Trinity. I want the best for Trinity College and am incredibly grateful for every opportunity I have had in my time here. I find it sad that the social culture has evolved into polarized factions of Trinity, this divide no better demonstrated than in the pages of this week’s issue.
I only want Trinity to improve, which is why I have dedicated myself to the student-run newspaper in my four years here. The Tripod serves as a method for conveying campus discourse, featuring students and organizations, as well as reporting on what the community should know.
That being said, my primary aim is to high- light injustices that must be discussed. My mission is never to engage in campus muck-racking. 80% of our content is positive, I promise!
The Tripod has grown and changed in the past four years. In my thirty issues as editor-in-chief of the Tripod, we have accomplished a lot—from the layout, the website, and the quality of our story ideas and writing. If I have learned anything in my time here, it is that every person on campus provides something valuable to our community.
It inspires me more than ever to push back on the idea that a closed group of students deluded with notions of power contains “the best and the brightest” of Trinity.
Each of us contributes something important and meaningful to the school.
I’m extremely grateful to those I work with on the Tripod staff. Every editor, writer, and person of contact for our articles has positively impacted my time here and has improved our paper for the benefit of the school. Next semester, Brendan W. Clark ’21 will take over for me as editor-in-chief. He’s an outstanding writer, a great manager, and a true journalist, and he will do more with the Tripod than I have attempted so far.
For better or for worse, the Tripod provides a historical narrative of Trinity. Keep reading it! Whether student, faculty, staff, administration, I encourage you to keep up with the Tripod, a small record of Trinity’s story.
I’m so honored to be a part of that history, in whatever small way.