SEPTEMBER 28 2018

OBERLIN’S STUDENT CULTURE MAGAZINE

VOL. 19, NO. 2

EST. 1999 SEPTEMBER 28, 2018

Editors-in-Chief Ian Feather Sophie Jones

Content Editors Ruby Anderson PJ McCormick Devin McMahon Kiana Mickles

Production Editors Hannah Berk Natalie Hawthorne Leora Swerdlow Nico Vickers

Copy Editors Nell Beck Eleanor Cunningham Olivia Hacker-Keating Indrani Kharbanda

Staff Writers Gio Donovan Jason Hewitt Zoe Jasper Sam Schuman

Photo Editor Em Webster

Cover Art Octavia Burgel

Web Editor Leah Yassky

Back Page Hannah Sandoz

Contributing Writers Nick Berstein Liza McKeen-Shapiro Niels Truman Luci Williams Hanne Williams-Baron Rabbi Shlomo Saul Kester Lili Sander

Want to see your name in print? Contribute to The Grape!

Next meeting: Sunday, September 30th @4pm in Wilder 115 We Don’t Have a Website (yet), But We Do Have a Radio Show

It’s Wednesdays at Noon SOPHIE JONES AND IAN FEATHER | EDITORS-IN-CHIEF Greetings Young Grape Vines, If you tuned into WOBC 91.5 at noon this past Wednesday, then you’ll have noticed the reference to our radio show’s very first episode, which began with an audio clip pulled from the near viral (over 90,000 views!) YouTube video, “Caring for Young Grape Vines”.

Oh, you didn’t listen? Well, you should--next Wednesday at noon.

Allow us to take a moment to shamelessly plug our show, “Through the Grapevine with Sophie and Ian”. We applied for the show under the title of “Off The Record with Sophie and Ian”, and that’s what’s officially listed on the WOBC program. Like so many things in our hectic lives, we started the project without a clear view of what the outcome would

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be and made improvements to our plan on the fly. Also, we’re both a little slow on the pun uptake.

But wait: after all that planning, after going back to the drawing board numerous times to perfect our show and its hilarious title, why did we start off our maiden episode with dialogue from a grape farmer who wears safety glasses to prune? Well, honestly, we needed another three minutes to figure out what to say. We honestly didn’t prepare much; our only plan was “banter”.

And oh, banter we did! Ah ha ha. We have fantastic banter; it’s 75% of our job and 80% of what we’ve learned in nearly three and a quarter years at Oberlin. But even Banter Studs™ like us can only banter so much-radio is harder than we thought (especially

since you can’t Juul in the studio)! However, it is of the utmost importance that The Grape has an associated radio show, because “multiplatform media” is all the rage these days.

So we are calling on you, dear Grape Vines, to help us with our show. Have a question about The Grape? About its history, its goings on, or its gossip? Email us, or call-in live between 12pm-1pm on Wednesdays and we’ll do our best to answer. Ask us for advice (just kidding, you probably shouldn’t). Give us advice. If you’ve been hesitant to write content for us because print journalism is, apparently, “dying”, then come on air instead; radio will always be hip and relevant!

Radio and news have had a fraught and fruitful relationship since way before The Daily’s Michael Barbaro. We don’t think

we’re being dramatic to say our simultaneous struggle with, and excitement for, our show is in the same lineage as, say, War of the Worlds. We want you to help us continue this brave tradition of causing radio audiences to say, “wait, is this real?”!

Next week, on October 3rd (at noon), our illustrious Bad Habits editor, Ruby Anderson will be gracing us with her presence in the studio to talk all things habitual and more. Tune in!

Flourish and grow, Ian and Sophie

Gibson’s Lawsuit Claims Oberlin Engaged in “Malicious” Campaign of “Fake Facts and Fake News” Against Bakery SAM SCHUMAN | STAFF WRITER Gibson’s Bakery’s lawsuit against Oberlin College and Vice President and Dean of Students Meredith Raimondo was covered by local and national media, including the Elyria Chronicle, National Review, CBS News and the Associated Press when it was filed last November. These sources were quick to focus on the suit’s complaints of libel and slander, and its allegation that the College, “orchestrated, incited, organized, and controlled” a campaign to paint the bakery, which has been a downtown Oberlin mainstay since 1905, as a “racist establishment,” resulting in an alleged loss of thousands of dollars business. But the details of the suit go beyond accusing Oberlin of attacking the bakery’s reputation.

To understand the lawsuit, one must start with the protests, which began after the arrest of three Black students for shoplifting at Gibson’s on the day after Donald Trump’s election. Quoted in The Grape, The Review, and speaking anecdotally, some Obies said that the Gibson family had a history of racially profiling its customers.

A statement released days after the students’ arrest by then-president Marvin Krislov and Raimondo, which said, “Regarding the incident at Gibson’s, we are deeply troubled because we have heard from students that there is more to the story than what has been generally reported,” was labeled in the lawsuit as, “perpetuating the defamatory claim that Gibson’s unlawfully discriminated against the criminal defendants”.

Oberlin College terminated the contract between Bon Appétit and Gibson’s between November 2016 and February 2017 as a result of the incident and protests, further stoking town-gown and racial tensions between the College and the town of Oberlin, which is nearly three-

quarters white and less than fifteen percent Black. Oberlin College again stopped buying from Gibson’s when the suit was filed.

The students’ whose arrests sparked the protest all pleaded guilty last September to misdemeanor charges in Lorain County Court, where as part of their plea deals they read allocutions saying that Gibson’s did not racially profile them. The students were originally prosecuted in Oberlin Municipal Court, where a judge rejected an original plea deal, saying that Gibson’s was under extreme economic pressure from Oberlin College to agree to the plea. Elijah Aladin, one of the students arrested, told the Oberlin Review last September that he plead guilty rather than go to trial because in Ohio the crime he was originally charged with, second-degree robbery, is a felony with a sentence of two to eleven years in prison.

In November of 2017, Gibson’s filed suit against the College and Raimundo.

The plaintiffs — David Gibson, Allyn W. Gibson, Gibson Bros. Inc. —are seeking over $200,000 in damages on eight complaints leveled against the College: libel, slander, interference with business relationships, interference with contracts, deceptive trade practices, intentional infliction of emotional distress, negligent hiring, and trespass.

The lawsuit, which is publicly available online, alleges that Oberlin engaged in “strategic” defamation of Gibson’s in an attempt to improve its image as an institution supportive of Black students after several controversies surrounding the College’s relationship with its Black student population, including the firing of a Black professor.

In the 32-page lawsuit, the Gibsons, represented by the Akron law firm Krugliak, Wilkins, Griffiths and Dougherty Co., stated that a series of previous disputes between the College and a group of Black students “threatened the reputation and financial welfare of the College.”

In a section entitled “Oberlin College Campus Turmoil,” the suit claims that Oberlin “markets itself as having a legacy of being a strong advocate for…African-American Students,” before focusing on a 2015 letter sent by ABUSUA, a Black student organization, to Oberlin administrators and the Board of Trustees that called Oberlin’s legacy of supporting Black students “nothing more than a public relations campaign initiated to benefit the image of the institution.”

The fourteen-page ABUSUA letter included a list of fifty demands, including the tenuring of Black professors including Joy Karega, who was later fired after posting tweets that many Oberlin students, administrators and alumni found anti-Semitic. Much of the dispute between Oberlin’s administration and students was covered in news outlets,

including an essay in The New Yorker.

The lawsuit proceeded to accuse Oberlin and Raimondo of intentionally libeling and slandering Gibson’s, labeling it a racist establishment verbally and through printed literature disseminated by College staff members. In effect, the accusations create a narrative that the College supported anti-Gibson’s protests as a way of ameliorating its image as an institution that supports Black students.

Said the document: “Oberlin College published defamatory statements against Plaintiffs through its agents, which include, but are not necessarily limited to: Krislov, Raimondo, and other professors and staff members.”

In a statement to the conservative law blog Legal Insurrection, Raimondo denied that she or the College prepared or disseminated literature during the Gibson’s protest, saying her presence at the protest was to “help ensure that a safe environment was maintained.”

According to the Gibsons, Oberlin knowingly ignored the results of an Oberlin Police Department report that failed to find evidence of racism on the part of Gibson’s because, “such intentional disregard of the truth and instead the adoption and promulgation of fake facts and fake news allowed them to continue their strategic business plan and public relations agenda for Oberlin [College]’s own financial and public relations benefit and to the detriment of Gibson’s Bakery and the Gibsons.”

In addition to framing the Gibson’s boycott as a College PR campaign, the Gibsons claimed that the College “covets Gibson’s well-situated land,” specifically the large parking lot next to Oberlin’s Bibbins and Kohl buildings that is owned by Off Street Parking, Inc., a company in which David Gibson owns a majority share.

The lawsuit accuses Oberlin, “Upon information and belief” — legal talk

meaning based on second-hand information — of “[wanting] to harm or acquire Gibson’s bakery and parking,” citing past incidents in which the College has permitted staff, students and faculty to use the lot despite Off Street Parking’s demands to the contrary.

Among additional claims, the Gibsons say that in a meeting between David Gibson, Marvin Krislov and then-Assistant to the President Tita Reed that took place about a week after Oberlin initially severed their business relationship with Gibson’s, Krislov and Reed said that they would consider resuming their business relationship if Gibson agreed to “not push criminal charges against first-time shoplifters.”

In a later meeting, the Gibsons claim, College representatives demanded that they call Meredith Raimondo instead of the police when Oberlin students were caught shoplifting. According to the lawsuit, this request was “inconsistent with his [David Gibson’s] core belief that an educational institution of higher learning should be teaching its students not to commit robbery and theft, instead of sheltering and excusing that criminal activity.”

Raimondo is the only named defendant apart from the

College. The Gibsons claim that Oberlin was negligent to hire Raimondo and other employees, who it says, “were not competent to perform their duties.”

Oberlin College and Raimondo denied all counts in a reply filed in Lorain County Court in December, stating that they “lack legal and factual merit,” and that they “will vigorously defend this ill-advised and unfortunate lawsuit.”

Oberlin College requested in March that the venue for the trial be changed from Lorain County to nearby Cuyahoga County, claiming that media coverage in the area would prevent a fair trial. That motion was dismissed in April by Judge John Miraldi.

The Grape’s coverage of the ongoing controversy was criticized recently when Oberlin student Jackson ZinnRowthorn wrote in the Oberlin Review’s Opinions section that an article in The Grape’s first issue of the semester was “reductive to the point of being deceitful” in its description of the Gibson’s boycott, citing a pull quote which read, “The social implication of being seen at Gibson’s are much worse than any freshman faux pas I can imagine…”.

The article in question was an opinion piece by Grape

Editor-In-Chief Sophie Jones entitled, “This is Not a Call to Action: I’m Coming Out [As a Former Gibson’s Employee]”.

In the article, Jones spoke of the months they spent working at Gibson’s as a first-year, their experience protesting Gibson’s after students’ arrests, and the social stigma surrounding shopping at Gibson’s. Jones wrote that the Gibson’s controversy is “longer and more complicated than I can describe here…I’m saying you should Google it.” Or, you could read The Grape.

In our next issue of The Grape, staff writer Sam Schuman will be writing an interview-based article on Oberlin students’ takes on the Gibsons Bakery v. Oberlin College lawsuit and reasons why students protested and continue to boycott the bakery. If you’d like to be interviewed, email thegrape@oberlin.edu.

Creating Sanctuary Within a Sanctuary City IAN FEATHER | CO-EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Over the past couple of years, both the town of Oberlin and the College have established themselves as sanctuaries for individuals without documentation. As one of the only ways that such a municipality or College can defy federal immigration laws and their enforcement, these were necessary steps toward ensuring the safety and comfort of undocumented community members.

However, as Camille Mackler, the legal policy director of the New York Immigration Coalition, told the New York Times earlier this year: “Putting a bubble over a city where ICE can’t penetrate is not possible. People think ‘sanctuary city’ — that you’re able to walk freely without fear. That’s not the case.”

This imminent threat of immigrant persecution within Oberlin, despite ‘official’ sanctuary status, was made even more clear on Friday, September 21st when Jeff Stewart from the Immigrant Worker Project spoke in Wilder 101. Stewart made the point that, while immigration enforcement has obviously become even more extreme in the US under the Trump administration, Ohio has become ‘ground zero’ for immigration enforcement. In addition to two massive raids within the state over the past year, at Corso’s Flower & Garden Center and Fresh Mark, Stewart shared other problematic details that have been less publicized. For one, the fastest growing Border Patrol station is in Ohio. Two, these same agents are now routinely patrolling rest areas along the Ohio Turnpike (Interstate 80/90), and are able to detain anyone who does not present documentation upon request. Finally, a newly-appointed immigration judge in Cleveland, where most Ohio cases are heard, has been routinely imposing bonds reaching into the tens of thousands of dollars. Unlike in the ‘regular’ court system, defendants are

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required to pay this entire bond amount for their freedom, rather than just 10%.

In light of these details, the current situation can feel hopeless; despite the efforts of the town and College and the general support for undocumented individuals within this community, no place is safe from the wrath of ICE and Border Patrol. Without a physical sanctuary, how can we guarantee the safety of persecuted members of our community?

Fortunately, members of First Church’s “Outreach and Service Committee” and a handful of students are trying to do just that. Since the summer, they have worked tirelessly to develop a physical space of sanctuary in the basement of First Church.

So far, this collective has been working to get the space in First Church up to legal code for inhabitance; this has involved installing a shower, painting all of the walls, making sure doorways are ADA-accessible, and replacing old kitchen appliances, furniture, and lights.

This last weekend, I had the opportunity to sit down with a member of the First Church committee who is spearheading these efforts, John Gates, in order to learn more about the group’s motivations and the work that lies ahead of them. Gates first made clear that his group’s efforts were not initiated within a historical nor local vacuum; during the 1980s, First Church and other local congregations were “heavily involved” in attempts to provide refuge to Central American refugees fleeing intense violence who faced deportation. Part of a larger national effort at the time called the “Overground Railroad,” this interfaith coalition named themselves the “Oberlin Overground Railroad Coalition.” More recently, the First Church Outreach and Service Committee was involved in helping individuals impacted by the violence in Syria,

OHIO HAS BECOME ‘GROUND ZERO’ FOR IMMIGRATION ENFORCEMENT reflecting their mission of promoting peace and social justice both locally and beyond.

Over the past couple of years, when the actively worsening plight of undocumented individuals in the US became clear, members of the Committee “started talking about the number of people who were being deported, and the fact that not everyone receives due process. We decided that this was something that should be addressed by the Church [...] it felt like the natural thing for us to do.” Then, after visiting a Mennonite congregation in Columbus that had developed a sanctuary space, and learning that a former First Church pastor had recently done the same in Raleigh, North Carolina, the group decided to put these moral convictions into action.

The physical work of preparing the First Church basement so that it can serve as a place of refuge is nearing completion, but Gates emphasized that the group’s work is just beginning, in terms of what will be necessary when one or more individuals seek refuge in the space. These are tasks that will require ‘all hands on deck’: shopping for groceries, meal preparation, laundry, potential childcare, someone to stay in the space overnight if requested by those seeking refuge, and someone who has experience serving as a confidant and advocate for those in times of crisis. Despite this daunting task, Gates emphasized that “we really believe that

if we have a core group of 12-20 people, we can provide the services that are needed.”

Furthermore, because other local churches have already been doing this work in recent months, the group has been able to learn from these efforts as their own efforts move forward.

Unfortunately, in light of the extremely aggressive tactics of ICE and Border Patrol, Gates cannot guarantee that the First Church basement will remain off-limits from immigration enforcement efforts. Such an event would be unprecedented, but so was the construction of a concentration camp for immigrant babies taken from their parents.

Furthermore, the group recognizes that the creation of this sanctuary space will not be a ‘silver bullet’ when it comes to ongoing immigration issues. The efforts of other local organizations like Lorain County Rising and El Centro have been and will continue to be equally important to addressing the ongoing crisis, even if their respective areas of focus are different.

PHOTO COURTESY OF DHS

Oberlin Community Member on Forming Advocacy Group Lorain County Rising LILI SANDLER | CONTRIBUTING WRITER Have you heard of Lorain County Rising? It’s a nascent grassroots activist group here in Lorain County, comprised of community members, as well as students, faculty, and staff of Oberlin College. The group was created the Sunday following the 2016 presidential election, when much of the country found itself in an anti-Electoral College fog of despair and with the strong desire to do something.

So, we’re doing something.

Turns out, we aren’t alone. We were among hundreds or maybe even thousands of brand-new groups that emerged following either the 2016 election or the first Women’s March in January of 2017.

At Lorain County Rising (LCR), one of the foremost goals in our minds has always been to find a way to connect people throughout the county with existing organizations, elected officials, candidates, and other groups in order to help every activist — whether a seasoned veteran who has been to more marches on Washington than I have fingers and toes, or someone whose only political act up to now has been walking into the voting booth.

I imagine that everyone reading this is aware that Oberlin College was founded on the principles of inclusion, equality, scholarship, and engagement. Let’s compare those to the founding principles of the United States of America: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. There’s a Venn diagram in there somewhere, I’m sure. And there’s another, separate, Venn diagram that could illustrate the evolution of the principles of each of these storied institutions, both of which would have a much stronger focus on capitalism, money, and high-impact donors.

As I’m sure you know, the best intentions of an institution are not necessarily reflected in its every action. Has our country made mistakes? Been misguided? Done any of its citizens wrong? Without a doubt. Has Oberlin College made mistakes? Been misguided? Done any of its students, staff, faculty, or alumni wrong? Of course. So what do you do when confronted with an institution that has made

PHOTO BY LILI SANDLER mistakes? At Lorain County Rising, we take action. We try to make things better.

You must have chosen to come to Oberlin for a reason.

Probably several reasons. But I’m sure you knew that Obies, since the beginning of Oberlin, have found ways to be active in their communities. Activism on the Oberlin campus has ebbed and flowed over the years as the vibe of the nation at large has ebbed and flowed — which of course makes sense. I am thrilled to see an upsurge in the political activity of Oberlin residents, whether their Oberlin experience is Collegeaffiliated or otherwise. However, in the six weeks that remain until the midterm elections, LCR members will have to give so much more.

More energy, more dedication, more time, and more engagement.

Do you think you have what it takes to make Oberlin College students role models for students nationwide as we approach the midterm elections? Volunteer with Lorain County Rising to make this year’s OC Get Out the Vote numbers bigger than they’ve ever been before.

Like many Americans, we at Lorain County Rising have spent

much of the last twenty months playing defense. We’ve protested the current administration in a variety of ways, not least of which by making daily phone calls to our representatives at every level, reminding them that they work for us. In the company of Oberlin students, residents, and alumni, we have gathered together in sorrow, in celebration, in contemplation, but always in solidarity. When OC students have approached us to ask for our collaboration, we have been thrilled to work alongside them.

We worked with them to get all of the progressive Ohio gubernatorial candidates to Oberlin to speak to students and community members alike. The OC Democrats and OC Indivisible have been our partners in more than a dozen events and actions, and their energy and participation has been energizing.

This past spring we joined forces with a statewide coalition of progressive groups like our own, and collectively made contact with over 100,000 voters in our successful efforts to pass Issue One, taking a huge step towards ending Gerrymandering in Ohio. We have raised tens of thousands of dollars for candidates, made thousands of phone calls to our representatives,

marched in parades and protests, held rallies and vigils, written tens of thousands of postcards to voters across the State and the country, knocked on doors, registered voters, collaborated with the League of Women Voters and with Planned Parenthood and with HOLA and with Jobs for Justice and with Indivisible Cleveland and with campaigns across the state and with El Centro and with labor unions and with Women’s March and with We Are Ohio and with For Our Future and with United Citizen Power and with American Promise…and, well, basically we’ve tried to find as many ways as possible to make our voices heard.

And we’re not done.

Like many American activist groups of late, we have shifted our perspective to a more offensive one, focusing on voting, candidates, and elections. Here in Oberlin, we’re working to elect Sharon Sweda to the State Senate so that her opponent, who is under FBI investigation, can’t just swap seats with his mother as they attempt to continue stalling forward-thinking legislation, and promote 1950s-era mentalities down in Columbus.

We’re dedicated to re-electing Sherrod Brown. We’re committed

to supporting Kathleen Clyde, the graduate of a small, liberal-arts college (Wesleyan!) and staunch defender of voting rights. The list goes on—want to know more about the progressive candidates up for election this November? We’ve got so many options for ways you can get involved. Get in touch with us, join our closed Facebook group, register your friends to vote, and vote on November 6th. And to our neighbors and friends who, due to their documentation status, are unable to vote: every American, regardless of paperwork, can be a part of improving our democracy.

The future presents tremendous uncertainty. One could argue that this is the definition of “future,” that it is always uncertain. I’d argue that the last 609 days have proven that we’re in more of a state of chaos than we have been in decades.

Lorain County Rising finds itself in the midst of a moment that is part of a movement — and we are tasked with keeping that movement alive.

How did we get where we are? The answer to that question requires far more space than this feature allows. But LCR believes that every American has the power to change what they don’t like in our nation. What we as citizens can do is continue to hold our elected representatives accountable. We can contact them and demand that they do what we think is best for our beloved country. And if they don’t, well, we can vote them out of office.

As Americans, we at LCR believe that it is our duty to care for our nation because it has been led terribly astray. We provide innumerable ways for you to get involved and give our country the care we know it needs, right now.

Maintain and put to the test your Obie sense of dedication to equality and engagement. Complicity is our greatest enemy in times of strife.

Obies should be better than that.

Student Senate Fails to Garner Twenty Percent Turnout

SAUL KESTER | CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Most Oberlin students, myself included, did not vote in the recent Student Senate election. There must be at least twenty percent participation from the student body for the election to end. We almost always reach that goal, but this semester it didn’t happen.

On Monday, September 10th, the “Senate Weekly” newsletter announced the ballot, with the link to vote clearly posted. There were 24 candidates for 9 seats. Over the fiveday voting period, votes trickled in, but on Friday, September 14th, about an hour after the ballot was supposed to have been closed, another email from the Senate’s email arrived: “Unfortunately, for the first time in recent memory, Senate’s Spring 2018 Election did not reach the requirement for 20% voter engagement. We will close the ballot once we reach 20%. Please vote immediately.”

I chatted with Oberlin students who did and didn’t vote to find out what was going on. I talked to a lot of people, both on and off the record, trying to gauge how this campus perceives our Senators. Here’s what I found: nobody on this campus seems to actually understand what Student Senate does.

Andrea Wang, a fourth-year student who has never voted in the campus election, says it best: “I’m not saying they don’t do anything. I just don’t know what it is.”

Student Senate does do things, of course. There’s the procedural work, like chartering organizations and appointing members to the Student Finance Committee, but they are also more generally expected to represent student interests in technical policy discussions with the administration and/ or the Board of Trustees. This work is crucial to Oberlin, but it’s hard to follow. Sara Calderon, a fourth-year student who didn’t vote, tells me, “I would care and support them if I knew that they were doing stuff that was important. But I literally never heard about them doing that, not once. And that doesn’t mean that they’re not doing it...it’s just an issue of publicity.”

Kirsten Mojziszek, a current Student Senator entering her fourth year, is passionate about the work Student Senate has accomplished recently, but she understands the student body’s ambivalent perspective toward Student Senate. She’s served on Senate every semester she’s been a student here, and she tells me, “in the past, Student Senate did not do much.’ She tells me about serving on Senate her first semester here at Oberlin, a time when “Senators were still doing their jobs...but there wasn’t a lot of activism that was more visible to the campus overall.” She thinks that silence sends a message to the student body, even though she’s working with her colleagues to “make [Student Senate] a more legitimate

UNDERSTANDING THE POLITICS OF OBERLIN AS AN INSTITUTION IS FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFICULT AND IT TAKES SOME TIME. 6

body of student governance.”

That shift is happening. Student Senate is working on creating programs that will benefit this campus. The best example is an organization that Kirsten co-created with Elizabeth (Debs) Johnson (’18) called Oberlin Bystander Intervention, or OBI for short. OBI “provides trained student bystanders for campus events,” like Solarity or Drag Ball. They check in with people, providing water, snacks, and safer sex supplies to anybody who needs it. They can intervene in situations that are unsafe, and they provide support to students who need it. Kirsten describes the state of these support policies before OBI institutionalized the effort, a time when an elected OSCA position was the primary source of support. “There were three students on call 24/7 to be a support system for the entire student body, which is so unsustainable,” Kirsten says.

Most Oberlin students wants policies like OBI to have institutional support. Without the work of Kirsten and other Student Senators, that support may not have materialized. I wonder if those students confused about the role of Student Senate would be so disengaged if they knew more about the elected body’s recent accomplishments: increased institutional support for Oberlin Disability Services, more effective distribution techniques for the Student Activities Fund, and long-awaited dorm renovations? If your dorm doesn’t have black mold in it anymore, you have Student Senate to thank!

Sure, Oberlin is a flawed institution, with problems that Student Senate doesn’t have the authority to solve — financial inaccessibility most of all — but Student Senate has achieved significant victories. I can admit that Oberlin’s administration constantly disappoints me, but as Kirsten reminds me, “we have that ability to voice our concerns to [them].” We need high voter turnout for our voices to be taken seriously.

Additionally, when voter turnout is low, specific pockets of voters on campus can push their friends into positions of power, making the election a choice between students mostly interested in resumé building, and students passionately fighting for progressive causes.

But this is only part of the story. Some people, like Emily Jacobson, do vote in the Student Senate elections. The thirdyear student has voted in every election she’s been here for.

It’s important to her to vote, although she says, “It was a harder semester to formulate an opinion,” since the majority of Student Senators didn’t submit a candidate statement. But she has a habit of voting, so she took two minutes out of her day to cast a ballot.

At this point, it’s worth noting that voter turnout may have been low this semester, simply because the candidates running were less engaged in campaigning than candidates in previous semesters. There were fewer Facebook events this semester, and do we really expect people to vote if they’re not reminded via Facebook? Multiple people tell me they didn’t realize the election had even happened, including Marija Crook, a third-year student. She typically votes, but didn’t this semester. There’s a pretty limited time during which voting occurs, and it’s easy to miss the opportunity if there’s lackluster advertising. The first week back is a particularly hard time for voting, too. “I know we need new Senators fast, but I think having it during add/drop throws people for a

NOBODY SEEMED TO DISLIKE SENATE, MAINLY BECAUSE NOBODY SEEMS TO GIVE THEM MUCH THOUGHT. loop,” Marija says.

Both Andrea and Marija saw the September fourteenth email from Senate — the one asking for more engagement — and they immediately went to vote. For Marija, it reminded her that she had meant to vote. For Andrea, the low turnout resonated with her. It was a reminder of how little most of us really know about politics. “It makes me feel sad, because everybody else is thinking what I’m thinking. We don’t know what this is. Is this even relevant? Should I care?”

Nobody I talked to, even those who didn’t vote, told me they intentionally abstained. Nobody seemed to dislike Senate, mainly because nobody seemed to give them much thought. Senate could certainly advertise their successes better, diminishing the disconnect between Senate and the rest of the student body. But part of the campus’s confusion over “what Senate does” may just be innate; the result of college living, which provides little time for everybody to stay informed about campus politics. Understanding the politics of Oberlin as an institution is fundamentally difficult, and it takes some time.

But there’s something else, a sort of habitual disengagement from any type of politics that seems small. Some students want to create change from within, but some students don’t.

Maybe Oberlin’s political priorities are focused elsewhere.

Maybe Oberlin students are disinterested in investing themselves in this election in the first place. Maybe it’s just that we feel like we don’t need to vote.

In the September tenth email to the student body, Student Senate made a joke: “Think of this as a warm up to the midterm elections.” According to the Lorain County Board of Elections, 57% of eligible voters in Oberlin voted in the 2016 General election. That’s higher than voting rates for the rest of the country, and it’s significantly higher than turnout in our Student Senate election. But if students want big victories moving forward — whether we’re talking Ohio politics or Oberlin College politics — then there’s no room for abstention. But what does that mean coming from me? I didn’t vote in the Student Senate election.

Q&A with El Centro Volunteer Initiative Program Coordinators: Jesus Martinez (‘19) and Sadie Keller (‘19) DEVIN MCMAHON | FEATURES EDITOR I sat down with students Jesus Martinez and Sadie Keller to chat about their work in connecting Oberlin students with Lorain County residents as they prepare to take the U.S. Citizenship Exam and enhance their English language skills, Oberlin’s defective culture of “interested” Facebook activism, and how you can be a better ally Lorain’s immigrant community. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Can you tell me about what the El Centro volunteer initiative is and how you got involved?

Jesus Martinez: During my second year, I heard about a new community project, Obies for Undocumented Inclusion (OUI), which was helping to teach citizenship classes with the non-profit Lorain El Centro. The project was the result of a private reading conducted by some seniors and the leaders of OUI back then. I attended a few classes; however, it wasn’t until I became an OUI co-chair that I took on the responsibility to coordinate the classes. The previous OUI cochairs were instrumental in creating the idea of the classes and providing guidance; however, the work that needed to be prioritized in the organization at that time was advocating for DACA and undocumented students. The major shifts in politics and the fight for a Sanctuary Campus made these priorities urgent.

The citizenship classes were growing, though, semester by semester, both in demand from immigrants in Lorain and volunteers from Oberlin. To leverage this interest, I reached out to more Oberlin volunteers for help with leadership and management. This outreach resulted in people helping to develop curriculum, write grants, and so forth. I found out later that another group of Oberlin volunteers were also conducting ESL classes during the same time as the citizenship class. Our collaboration last semester resulted in what is now El Centro Volunteer Initiative.

Sadie Keller: El Centro Volunteer Initiative (ECVI) is a group that seeks to connect current Oberlin students with El Centro. We want to be the bridge between Obies and El Centro. I started as a volunteer my sophomore year and noticed right away that it was really Jesus doing this program on his own. And he’s awesome, but he couldn’t possibly do it all. Nor should he. Two years ago, we worked together to create ECVI; the idea is that we can do some of the frontlifting (communicating with nonprofits developing large plans) and then give Obies a tangible way to get involved — write a grant, teach a class, develop a class curriculum, et cetera. Oberlin has awesome students but we unfortunately also have a culture of “interested” Facebook people who are “interested” in lots of events and lots of organization work but don’t actually show up to the event or meet the need.

Part of my drive to ECVI is to push Oberlin students to see themselves as part of Lorain County. As someone without direct ties to the immigrant experience I want to show that there’s a place for everyone in allyship work.

Tell me about the context of your work in Lorain County. Why do you think it’s important to be involved in this work during the school year here in Ohio?

JM: Currently, we’re the only program like this in the area, so there was definitely a need for it. When I got involved,

PHOTO BY KAMERON DUNBAR it was during the 2016 presidential primary elections, and I saw people — even people who were so-called “in the clear,” not undocumented, that have permanent residence — I saw awake in them this desire to have the ability to vote, to do something, to participate in the election because of the rhetoric that was being thrown around surrounding immigrants. And there were also a lot of barriers to that, even for permanent residents, green card holders. There are still many barriers to citizenship, whether that be fees, language, resources. There wasn’t something there to be of aid in those terms. To me, I remember being motivated by something that really bothered me: when someone asks me, “are you registered to vote?” and they have the form, they push it to you, they hand you the pen and it’s just, “sign, sign, sign.” Yes, it’s super important to vote but it’s also important to realize that not everyone can vote. And when you say, “well, I’m not allowed to vote,” they say, “okay,” and walk away. That felt entirely disempowering.

Even if you can’t vote, there’s still so many things you can do to stay involved, and my mentality is that even if I personally can’t vote, I can get other people to vote! And that was one of the drivers to start the program, build the program, and help others obtain citizenship, and enable them to participate in the elections. Because I was also pretty pissed off during the election, especially by He Who Shall Not Be Named.

SK: And one thing that’s been really important for me to remember is that is it not possible for Oberlin students to change the horribly unjust immigration system while we sit in our classrooms. For me, it wasn’t enough to be a politics student, to decide that the U.S. immigration system is unjust, study it, and focus myself on it for four years, and eventually change it. Obviously, it’s important to study the political/economic/racial parts of the immigrant experience

in Lorain County and criticize injustice — but allies have to look up and say, “Oh, there’s a nonprofit twenty minutes away that is doing the work. El Centro already identified this super tangible need and just needs consistent manpower.

That’s where we come in. And like Jesus said, this is the only program in the area like it. There are people in Norwalk who want us to come to them and start similar classes there, because this is an effective and needed program. So I think it’s important to acknowledge the role of academia and say, “cool, cool,” but also acknowledge where we live and what’s going on around us. People are telling me what they need and I need to do it.

How have you seen your work with El Centro change over the course of your college careers?

SK: I started as a volunteer because I had tutor experience and wanted to practice my Spanish. I knew Jesus from freshman year (he helped me de-loft my bed at midnight once, true friends) and knew I wanted to be part of what he was doing [with OUI]. We worked together to think about ways to stabilize and institutionalize the work he was doing. Two years later, we’ve built a really solid program, a board of 13 people, and now we have ways for Obies to get involved, no matter how many skills they have. We’re trying to give volunteers chances to practice real life skills — how to engage in a community, how to lead a classroom, how to listen as a teacher, how to write a grant, et cetera. Mostly, in my opinion, we’ve tried to create a model for how Oberlin students should think about their time here. We have to look outside of campus and start affecting change right away. 2016 was a huge impetus for both of us but for different reasons.

And I think although we come to this work differently, we want the same things. We want to push and guide students to direct service and make Lorain County just a little bit better in a country with an immigration system that is so unfair and so inhumane. I know both of us feel really proud of this program and want to find and support underclassmen to lead it next year.

Can you tell me about any success stories?

JM: Keeping in mind that it is always important not to tokenize anyone, there are moments in the work that are very rewarding. Two weeks ago, we had a student in our class pass the exam. I went to his ceremony, I was there with his family, and this is someone who has taken the class multiple times, multiple semesters. He had a couple legal issues as far as a couple different barriers to get his application in, but just to see him, the head of his household, father of four, it was an emotional moment and I was so glad knowing that he had put in so much work and done everything he could — and to know that I had helped him in that process was very rewarding.

SK: And forty people have passed the U.S. Citizenship

Exam that have taken our courses. And when you think about the fact that a lot of folks obtain [citizenship] so that they can help their children or family members apply for citizenship, it’s exciting to think that you’re helping more than forty people, and forty people itself is an incredible number.

JM: And even for people who don’t necessarily get that chance or that option [of citizenship], they’re interacting with a student with a different perspective, and oftentimes, beyond just a civics question, you get to form a relationship with this student, and I was one of the fortunate ones that was there last semester, every Saturday, and they called me “Profe,” and in Latin America, you call your high school teachers “Profe” and I was like, “where?” So that was a sweet moment.

And how can students get involved?

SK: Get involved with OUI and show up to OUI events.

JM: At the very beginning, next month, Undocuweek is going to happen [starting October 7] and that’s going to culminate in a 5K Dream Run; there’s going to be a movie screening, and hopefully by the end of the month we’re going to have an undocumented ally training. There’s also different

programming happening to support the Undocumented Students Scholarship Fund — for example, Dia de la Raza is going to be October 16th, which is an event held in resistance to Columbus Day and all the proceeds will go to the Undocumented Students Scholarship Fund. And Christopher Soto, a great poet, will be here.

SK: In terms of getting involved, ECVI is supposed to be a volunteer outreach position that leads people to OUI. So OUI is a group that’s been doing incredible work for a really long time, and we have to show up and support that work and be proactive about it. And part of being proactive about it is volunteering in Lorain, but that’s not the only thing. Part of our goal has been making a space for everyone [in ECVI], and making sure that any person who is interested and who wants to engage wholly in Lorain can do so. We have grant writing, curriculum, and teaching ESL — so there are a ton of ways for people to get involved, and going to OUI events definitely does not require another language!

If you’re interested in Jesus and Sadie’s work with ECVI, like them on Facebook @oberlinecvi and shoot them a message!

Oberlin Professor Creates Radical Computer Software NATALIE HAWTHORNE | LAYOUT EDITOR I learned about Bail Bloc from my socialist Oberlin alumnus Facebook friend, and have had it downloaded for almost a year — sometimes it even makes me feel slightly less guilty about the obscene amount of time I spend on my computer. When I found out that its creator, Grayson Earle, was a new visiting Art professor, I was eager to talk to him about it.

Bail Bloc is a downloadable computer program that runs in the background during normal computer use to mine Monero, an anonymous and energy-efficient cryptocurrency. When Bail Bloc is installed and running, it uses 10% of the computer’s processing power to mine cryptocurrency.

The small amount of Monero generated by each user is transferred to a wallet, which is then periodically converted to USD and donated to the Bronx Freedom Fund, a nonprofit with a revolving fund to pay bail for people who have been accused of misdemeanors.

Earle conceived of Bail Bloc as part of a failed artist residency application that prompted applicants to think about the word trust. “It was like just after Trump was elected, and they put out a call for projects that had to do with trust, and I was thinking about trust in financial terms, like a public trust, being able to centralize money and spend it on some kind of good or something, and how, with Trump in office, Planned Parenthood is going to be defunded in some way, organizations like Black Lives Matter are going to need funding more than ever, and that kind of thing,” explained Earle. “So I was just trying to conceive of a way of giving money to organizations who are already on the ground doing the work.”

Although his application was denied, he was encouraged to actualize his idea for a participatory cryptocurrency mining system by his friend Sam Levine, who is a part of

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The New Inquiry, a self-described “Marxist, anarchist, feminist, intersectional” magazine.

He worked with a group of people in the “Dark Inquiry” facet of the magazine, which is the “rhetorical software division, the idea being that software can mount arguments in the same way that journalists do, but it’s just sort of within the systemic or procedural nature of code,” according to Earle. It was there that he arrived at the objective of generating bail funds, especially by his friend and collaborator on the project, Maya Binyam, who writes about prison abolition.

“The prison system and the cash bail system is already a form of currency mining on low-income communities of color — it’s a way for the state to extract that money from those communities,” said Earle. More than 90% of people won’t take their cases to trial because they can’t afford bail, instead opting to accept a plea bargain, which includes lesser charges but still remains on their record, affecting their ability to get a job. Bail is also revolving, so if people meet the conditions of their bail, the money is returned to whoever posted it. “So, if you generate a small amount of money, like I think the average bail in New York City is between 600 and 900 dollars, that could potentially, theoretically, bail out a hundred people.” Earle said he “really liked the idea of bail because it’s easy to have a goal orientation....You know exactly what you’ve done. Whereas these other ones are a little more nebulous. You know that you’re doing good by contributing to Greenpeace, but do you know if you’ve saved one forest, or one tree?”

The idea of using a network of volunteers to mine cryptocurrency was inspired by a project called SETI@home (created by an entity called SETI,Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence).

“It was a legitimate organization that worked with NASA, and basically the idea is that they aim[ed] the

huge satellite array into outer space and both sent and attempted to receive transmissions, hoping that they would receive a signal from a very distant star, like a pattern that would mean that there was some intelligent species that was also looking for other intelligent species,” said Earle. They never found any life out in the stars, but did find a funding deficit that affected their ability to afford to run the supercomputer. “So they devised a software called SETI@home that you could download to your computer, and it basically is kind of what Bail Bloc does. It runs taken data in the background as you use your computer, and then crunches it, and rather than mine cryptocurrency it takes the raw data from the satellite array and puts it back into a usable format and then gives that to researchers. And in that way they effectively created a supercomputer out of a network of volunteers. So it was sort of like that project, plus cryptocurrency mining and radical politics equals….” Bail Bloc.

Earle’s interest in cryptocurrency goes back to when he was still in grad school, in the early days of Bitcoin — before it had gained its notoriety. “I was running a media lab, and I installed some scripts on all the computers that would mine Bitcoin while no one was using it. I wasn’t trying to profit, because at the time it was worth like ten bucks, so I just thought it was fascinating the way that technology was built to have participation as a necessary component.I made like two Bitcoin or something over the course of a week or two and kind of forgot about it, and of course woke up one day with thousands or something. I spent most of it before it really generated that kind of value, but it was still in the back of my mind as a way of generating value out of thin air.”

On his website, you can find examples of other projects he has been involved in, including “The Illuminator,” which was “a

collaborative political art project which was created in the context of Occupy Wall Street,” in which he used a huge projector to intervene in public spaces with political messaging.

You can also play “Launch a Banker,” which in Earle’s words is “an arcade/mobile game that is exactly what it sounds like.”

His arrival at radical political media creation was by no means linear. “I went to UC Irvine for undergrad and studied film and media, which was basically, like, where I got my politics from, because for whatever reason cinema studies departments are always Marxist. Marxists make the best movies, I guess,” said Earle. “And then I went to grad school to be a documentary filmmaker, and discovered that I was really bad at that and just kind of shifted. I had been programming forever, because it’s something I did when I was bored when I was a kid, because I lived in a place where there’s nothing to do — [it] makes Oberlin look like a huge city.”

He had heard about Oberlin through his friends in the co-op he lived in during grad school, and also knew about it from alumni he admires, such as Chris Arkangel. This semester he’s teaching Art and Interactive Technology, Cryptocultural Production, and Simulation Art. He is temporarily replacing Julia Christensen, who is involved in a project with NASA this year.

“It’s been a very different experience teaching here, it’s been really good,” he said.

“The students are really amazing and super engaged, whereas I feel like sometimes teaching can feel like pulling teeth, but here it’s just like everyone is here to learn and do the thing, so that’s been really cool.”

Oberlin Apathy Rocked by A Series of Prison Strike Benefits EVA HILTON | CONTRIBUTING WRITER There were few people walking down Oberlin sidewalks on the night of September 7th, partially because it was raining, but mostly because there were so many people packed into a house on South Professor street, dancing and having a wonderful, sweaty time. This event was titled “Music Towards Prison Abolition,” organized by Adriana Vergara and Mobey Irizarry, and featuring student acts like Xango/Suave, Little Bear, Spico Lo, and FOGATA, all of which drew a large crowd.

“There was a lot of kindness in the room. It felt like everybody was there to enjoy the people and the music and the evening in itself, and that gave me energy to just have fun and remember that what we were doing was really to add something in general, whether it was through the donations or through having a good time,” reflects Adriana, who performed along with co-hosting the event.

Even though there were waves of people coming in throughout the night, the expectation to contribute to the cause did not dwindle.

The world of Oberlin house parties has recently seen two benefit shows in solidarity with the National Prison Strike. These were the first student

“THERE WAS A LOT OF KINDNESS IN THE ROOM. IT FELT LIKE EVERYBODY WAS THERE TO ENJOY THE PEOPLE AND THE MUSIC AND THE EVENING IN ITSELF, AND THAT GAVE ME ENERGY TO JUST HAVE FUN AND REMEMBER THAT WHAT WE WERE DOING WAS REALLY TO ADD SOMETHING IN GENERAL, WHETHER IT WAS THROUGH THE DONATIONS OR THROUGH HAVING A GOOD TIME,”

hosted benefit shows this semester, and their success has set an initiative for the student events that are to come. More importantly, both shows helped to raise awareness for an issue that has not received enough attention in the media and mainstream news as of late.

But first, what’s happening with the National Prison Strike? On August 21st, incarcerated people across the country declared a nationwide strike in response to the riot at a maximum security prison in South Carolina that left seven men dead and many more hospitalized. Accompanied by a list of demands calling for dramatic and immediate prison reform and abolition, inmates across the country executed sit-ins, work strikes, hunger strikes, and boycotts, while many outside organizations joined the movement in solidarity.

The strike officially lasted from August 21st to September 9th, but the media attention declined significantly after the first week, even as inmates continued to be severely punished for simply speaking out and demanding to be treated like human beings.

We unfortunately do not even know yet whether any of the demands were met despite how massive the strike was. Nevertheless, events like the past two benefit shows in support of the strike and the Incarcerated Workers Organization have helped keep this issue on our minds.

On September 15th another show, “Soft Salty Sing: More Music for Prison Abolition,” this time hosted by Emma Doyle, continued to promote visibility for the prison strike movement. It was more of the intimate kind of house show, afloor, attentively listening to the music of Ko T-C, Xango/Suave, Sean Green, Claude, and Mid Atlantic Rift. This show was organized separately from the first benefit towards prison abolition, but Emma had also planned to request donation for a cause at the door, so she decided to continue the supporting powerful platform of the weekend before. After this quieter, lovely evening of introspective music, students that had gone to either of the shows had raised a total of fifteen hundred dollars to give to the National Prison Strike and the Incarcerated Workers Organization.

There are many free house shows at Oberlin college, but when there are house shows with suggested donations, Oberlin students do seem to come through. Two important factors that allow more people to donate are a wide sliding scale for suggested donations, and Venmo,

“WE UNFORTUNATELY DO NOT EVEN KNOW YET WHETHER ANY OF THE DEMANDS WERE MET DESPITE HOW MASSIVE THE STRIKE WAS. NEVERTHELESS, EVENTS LIKE THE PAST TWO BENEFIT SHOWS IN SUPPORT OF THE STRIKE AND THE INCARCERATED WORKERS ORGANIZATION HAVE HELPED KEEP THIS ISSUE ON OUR MINDS.” the mobile payment service. Venmo also allows for more anonymity among students in terms of wealth, and it seemed like the people that could pay more actually did. During this school year expect to see more of these benefit house shows, knowing that they could be as successful as the past two shows for prison abolition. Having these events more frequently at Oberlin would encourage a campus climate that is more aware of current issues and more eager to do something about it.

I Went Inside The Portal: Uncovering the Truth About Oberlin’s Biggest Gold Box ABBY LEE | CONTRIBUTING WRITER Over the summer, I opened one of Oberlin’s weekly news bulletin emails and saw something about a Portal making its way to our campus this fall.

Would this portal transport us back to a time when we could eat at Dascomb and buy a concert ticket at Wilder Desk (RIP)? I was eager to find out.

Lo and behold, in early September, the Portal appeared in the form of a gold-painted shipping container on the grass adjacent to Wilder Bowl.

If you’re still wondering WTF the Portal is, allow me to explain. As described on the outside of the container, it is an immersive audio-visual experience that connects you with people who are also in a Portal in another part of the world.

Sounds like a glorified version of Omegle, minus all the dicks (hopefully).

The organization that runs Portals is called Shared_Studios, and their website describes their initiative as “a multidisciplinary art, design, and technology collective building an Internet you can walk through.” The project was founded by Amar Bakshi, the son of Pakistani immigrants, who spent time working as a reporter and longed for conversations like those he had with strangers on a bus journey.

So, he set out to create Portals, a space in which technology that already exists could be utilized to foster momentary connec10

tions between people who likely would never meet otherwise.

The first two Portals were set up in Tehran, Iran and New York City in 2014. Since then, Shared_Studios have set up

just a typical Skype call? In a time when we’re so consumed by our screens, shouldn’t we value the experience of actually being face-to-face with someone? And really, what is this?

The website quotes him as saying, “It’s amazing technology… [and] the good thing is when I sneeze, you have no danger of catching anything. It’s one of the great advantages of… [the]

PHOTO TAKEN BY HANNAH BERK Portals in 19 different countries, all across the United States on college campuses, public spaces and even in a refugee camp.

I was very excited to enter the Portal, but I was slightly suspicious of the whole ordeal. Was it going to feel different than

Is it art? Is it activism? Is it some kind of virtual reality experience? Is it all in the name of public health? I watched a video on the Shared_Studios website where President Obama interacted with a few people at a conference via Portal screens.

Portal.” Is the Portal really just trying to prevent the spread of contagious diseases?

Finally, it was time for all my questions to be answered. On Tuesday, September 17th at 12:40pm, Devin McMahon ‘19

and I entered the Portal. The set-up is simple: black carpeted floor and walls, folding chairs, and a screen the height and width of the shipping container where we saw our new friends: students from Texas State University in San Marcos.

We talked about what movies we had seen recently, the demographics of our respective colleges, what we major in— pretty basic stuff. They asked us if we had ever been to Texas, and what our conceptions of the state were. The conversation never felt forced or awkward, as we were in this space where the main purpose was to simply connect. We talked about the concept of the Portal. We debated whether they were in Oberlin or if we were in San Marcos.

Someone offered the idea that we were in a 4th dimension. After 20 minutes, our connection time was coming to an end, and Devin and I walked out of the gold box feeling energized and content with our experience.

We both agreed that we wanted to go back again.

“It’s not exactly a common experience to be asked to have a conversation with someone, just for the sake of having a conversation when you don’t know them,” said Devin, during our debrief. “You’re entering the exchange not knowing if you have anything in common with each other.”

She noted that the most in-

teresting part for her was that the simple set up of the interior, coupled with the technology, truly creates the feeling of being in the same room as the other people.

The shipping container is the great equalizer; it removes everyone from their respective contexts, and all that really matters is the things you want to say to the other people. However, Devin noted that this could be its greatest pitfall. She had a desire to see where our “Portal mates” were in their physical space, and what existed for them outside their gold container.

Because these things can’t just run on their own, each Portal site has a designated curator/facilitator who monitors the Portal during each connection. The Oberlin Portal curator is Tekikki Walker, a 2012 Oberlin graduate who majored in Studio Art with a concentration in Religion. I got the chance to chat with Walker, with the hopes of understanding the overall goal of the Shared_Studios project beyond what I had gathered from their website. In terms of her involvement with the project, Walker said that she had seen a listing on

RACHEL WEINSTEIN | CONTRIBUTING ARTIST

Oberlin Classifieds looking for potentially two people, possibly students, within the Oberlin College community who would be willing to act as the Portal curators.

Walker was living in Chicago at the time, but the opportunity to do this kind of work was of interest to her.

“When you go inside of the Portal, you get a chance to connect with someone in another part of the world, and that can range from a general conversation or a personal connection, to students or artists or creatives who want to flesh out their own ideas and experiences,” Walker says.

There’s a desire to label this project as some specific thing, but the truth of the matter is that it is not one thing. It appeals to so many aspects of our lives, the most prominent being the opportunity to have a conversation with someone who may be nothing like you.

But, beyond the individual connections, the Portal serves as a vehicle for sharing art, educating each other, developing language skills, engaging professionally, or anything else you want to do.

Considering that I encountered so many students who were unaware of the Portal’s purpose or function, I asked Walker about the outreach strategies to get students interacting with the Portal. She expressed that it was something she was still trying to figure out how to do, since she is the only person representing Oberlin’s Portal. She has been reaching out to student groups and organizations on campus, encouraging them to get in touch with her about putting together projects or presentations that they’d be interested in sharing with one of the many Portal sites.

Hopefully, as the Portal continues to draw students’ attention, there will be increased activity and engagement from the student body. I believe that there is truly nothing to lose from entering the Portal. Next time you walk by it and have nowhere to be, take a chance and step inside. You don’t need an appointment, you don’t have to sign up, you just have to let your curiosity compel you to get in there.

BY FRANCESCA MANSKY | CONTRIBUTING ARTIST 12

5 Things to Do if You’re Super Drunk at the Palm Show PJ MCCORMICK | ARTS AND CULTURES EDITOR

If you’re anything like me, you were super bombed at the Palm show at the ‘Sco last Saturday. And why wouldn’t you be? A Palm concert is as good a reason as any to celebrate. The Bard-hailing art-rock band descended back on campus for the first time since the release of their new album, Rock Island, jerking through new tracks and fan favorites alike.

need to shout.

From the opening notes of that one they have with the glitchy-sounding interlocking guitar parts, plodding bassline, and the sputtering drums to the closing chords of another one they have that sounds a lot like that first one, Palm was a magnificent, grooving blur.

Or maybe it was all those Busch Lights.

As I mentioned above, there’s one point on this list you won’t be able to complete sober. But it’s only because when sober, your judgement probably wouldn’t

Given my abundant experience with being super drunk at the Palm show, The Grape has tasked me with coming up with a few tips for what to do if (and when) you find yourself in that position. Take heed! It’s a fantastic situation to be in, and I’m here to let you know exactly how to get the most out of it.

One note: I would recommend reading this in advance of your drunken stupor. If you’re reading this because you’re already drunk at the Palm show, I don’t know what to tell you. You definitely aren’t going to be able to get through the whole thing. Go vibe out!

But on another, more important note: please keep in mind that being drunk at the ‘Sco (or anywhere!) is never an excuse for being disrespectful/antagonistic/ threatening/or harmful to the space or your peers, and that any and all items on this list can be accomplished 100% sober, if that’s your preference.* *With one exception.

Support Student Artists Even if you’re totally wasted for the Palm show, you should show up early to see the supporting acts. In this case, Julia Julian -- comprised of Cena Loffredo ‘19, Max Ripps ‘19, Joanna Quinn ‘19, and Reuben Gifford, ‘20 -- blew the roof off of the ‘Sco, and provided the perfect Palm ramp-up with their catchy, danceable tunes!

Returning from a brief hiatus when lead vocalist Max Ripps was abroad, Julia Julian returned in peak form, absolutely delivering the jams in quick succession.

Obies familiar with their older material sang along emphatically, and keen listeners may have been able to catch the first glimpse of new Julia Julian material!

If bassist Cena Loffredo happens to be your housemate, make sure to tell this to as many people in the audience as will listen to you. This is big for you!

Tell Your Friends You Love Them You love your friends. And your friends love you. But it’s loud in here; Palm is playing! So you’re going to

You could tell them later, but now feels like the best time. Because you feel great; Palm is playing!

Convince Yourself That the ‘Sco Employees Won’t Notice Your Huge Bottle of Malibu

FROM THE OPENING NOTES OF THAT ONE THEY HAVE WITH THE GLITCHY-SOUNDING INTERLOCKING GUITAR PARTS, PLODDING BASSLINE, AND THE SPUTTERING DRUMS TO THE CLOSING CHORDS OF ANOTHER ONE THEY HAVE THAT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE THAT FIRST ONE, PALM WAS A MAGNIFICENT, GROOVING BLUR. OR MAYBE IT WAS ALL THOSE BUSCH LIGHTS. be impaired enough to believe that you could drink an entire thing of Malibu at the ‘Sco. If, like me, you and your friends were able to discreetly sneak a big bottle of Malibu past the ‘Sco entrance with the old “it’s in the sleeve of my jean jacket and I’m standing weirdly” trick, a fun thing to do when you’re super drunk at the Palm show is to delude yourself into believing that you can drink it in there and it won’t get taken away.

So go ahead and just walk around with it! Why even attempt to be nonchalant when you could be totally, blissfully blasé? When you get it taken from you

by a ‘Sco employee who is just doing their job you will probably be surprised. This is because you are stupid.

Rock Out If some of these tips make it seem like the focus of the night isn’t the music itself, they’re misleading. You wouldn’t be at the ‘Sco if not for Palm.

They’re an inventive, compelling group with seriously interesting, textured songs that get stuck in your head all the time. They’ve got hooks for days, and they keep busting them out! There’s a reason they’re a crowd favorite with Oberlin students; Palm doesn’t disappoint.

You should rock out! Close your eyes and sway around. Or jump up and down. Or stand still with your arms folded if that’s your thing. It’s not my job to tell you how to enjoy the music. My job is to tell you how to handle yourself if you end up super drunk while you’re listening to it.

Palm plays “Pearly”, “Shadow Expert”, “Composite”, “Color Code” and a bunch of other great songs. Every member is at the top of their game. Look how that drummer drums!

When the band finishes a song, clap and cheer very loudly. They did a good job.

Tip Your Bartender Yummy, more beer! You have Palm to thank for the memories, and ‘Sco employees to thank for the Keystone. So pay up!

#MeToo Efforts Should Prioritize Workers, Not Celebrities Photo courtesy of Democracy Now! Broadcast 10/17/2017

LIZA MCKEEN-SHAPIRO | CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Tarana Burke, first to coin the phrase “MeToo”, continues to work with young, working class, Black youth as her hashtag continues to gain traction among the rich and famous.

When asked about the pay gap in Hollywood, actress Amy Adams once told an interviewer, “I want to fight for people outside our industry, so to come out and look ungrateful about what I’m paid as an actress just didn’t feel right. I do believe in equal pay, but let’s start with our teachers. Let’s get waiters paid the minimum wage.” Although the actress was talking about wage disparity rather than sexual harassment, the general sentiment of her quote reflects how I have grown to feel about the #MeToo movement.

The activist Tarana Burke coined the phrase “Me too” in reference to cases of sexual assault back in 2006, but what we have come to know as the hashtag-me-too-movement began in October 2017 with accusations

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leveled against film mogul Harvey Weinstein.

It’s important to recognize the racial and socioeconomic optics here — Burke has been fighting for young, working class women of color with her organization JustBeInc for over 10 years, yet the American public largely ignored the movement she birthed until wealthy celebrities identified with it (an oversight made even more egregious by the disproportionate rates of sexual abuse WOC face.) After the New York Times and New Yorker each published articles detailing Weinstein’s pattern of abuse, over 80 women (including some identified in the initial articles) came forward. This served as a catalyst for a supposed sexual assault reckoning: soon, renowned celebrities from Mario Batali

to Matt Lauer to Al Franken were exposed as predators.

On the surface level, this movement has been a success. Weinstein has been removed from his eponymous company and currently faces life in prison, Batali lost his positions on an ABC talk show and in Batali & Bastianich Hospitality Group, Lauer no longer hosts the Today Show, and Al Franken has resigned from the Senate in disgrace. Surveying the consequences these celebrities (and many more) have faced, it might be tempting to conclude that #MeToo has done its job. Yet, to me, these actions feel like addressing the symptom and not the cause. To simply terminate particular executives once they are revealed to be exploiting their power, only to replace them with others in the exact same position to take advantage of vulnerable workers, ignores the structural constructs which allow these abuses to take place.

Many feminist writers and activists have suggested that the best way to cut down on sexual misconduct in the workplace would be to appoint more women to high-ranking corporate positions. This is a misguided approach to the problem — as the socialist, feminist writer Jamie Peck noted in her article “#MeToo and the Limits of Neoliberal Feminism”, the fundamental issue is not that “there are too few women atop an otherwise fine hierarchy. It’s that there is a hierarchy in the first place.” Unfortunately, women in positions of power are just as capable (if perhaps statistically less likely) of exploiting it as men are. Peck cites the example of “feminist” underwear company Thinx’s self described “she-EO” (barf) Miki Agrawal, who was accused by the company’s former PR manager of touching her employees’ breasts without consent and openly expressing her interest in having sex with a particular worker, among other inappropriate behaviors. Even Asia Argento, one of the pioneers of the #MeToo

movement herself, was recently accused of assaulting a 17 year old actor whose mother she portrayed in a film she directed (putting her in an undeniable position of power) when he was 7 — even making a settlement deal with him that is uncomfortably evocative of those that Weinstein made with his victims.

In order to actually help fix systemic abuse in the workplace, we need to focus more on the socioeconomic aspects of the issue. What has particularly upset and disappointed me about the #MeToo movement as it stands is the lack of emphasis on the working class.

The truth is that those like Weinstein (and in turn, his victims) are extremely isolated examples of America’s problem with sexual abuse. Famous actors and actresses possess the financial resources to be able to turn down jobs from abusers and front potential lawsuits brought against them for making accusations, not to mention the platform to call misconduct to public attention in the first place. This is not to invalidate the trauma these women have faced at the hands of perpetrators like Weinstein, as their wealth and prestige in no way negates their experience, but to simply note that they are by far in the minority of survivors while receiving the majority of media coverage.

Indeed, this neglect is so damning of the movement because working women are much more likely to experience sexual abuse than their wealthy counterparts. The statistical analysis website FiveThirtyEight explored this issue, and found that women with a household income under $7,500 are 12 times more likely to report instances of sexual abuse than those with a household income over $75,000. Additionally, the Center for American Progress reported that the two industries with the most documented sexual harassment cases (4,801 and 4,380 respectively from 2005 to 2015) were food and retail service. To make #MeToo’s focus on

IN ORDER TO ACTUALLY TO HELP FIX SYSTEMIC ABUSE IN THE WORKPLACE, WE NEED TO FOCUS MORE ON THE SOCIOECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE ISSUE.

predominantly white women even more upsetting, these trades are heavily staffed by women of color, who are both more likely to face harassment at work and to face retaliation for reporting it. Unsurprisingly, both food and retail have extremely low rates of unionization, with retail standing at 5% and food service at 1.4%, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics as of 2017.

The correlation between high sexual abuse and low unionization rates is not a coincidence. Such trends should point to the direction that the movement needs to take going forward. We must focus less on how bosses can improve, and more on how workers can gain the power to fight back. Without a union, those who face sexual misconduct at the hands of their employer are put in a precarious situation. They are an individual standing against a company whose primary goal is to turn a profit, and the most profitable solution to an employee raising a ruckus about hostile working conditions is to fire and replace them with someone who won’t complain.

When workers decide to unionize, that individual becomes part of a entity with the power to bargain with the company. Through a collective bargaining agreement, employees can lay out guidelines to establish how they want the company to treat them.

If an employer violates any of those stipulations, they have the union to answer to. The workers can organize a strike and protest until something changes — and something will have to change, since the company can’t turn a profit without its employees doing the work. Most celebrities are actually members of unions (primarily the Screen Actors Guild) themselves, and Hollywood itself has plenty of examples that show how labor organizations can help workers fight sexual harassment. In 2015, the show Westworld included a clause in the contracts of extras participating in an orgy scene stipulating that they may be “required to perform genital-to-genital touching.” After participants reported their discom-

fort with this to SAG, the union stepped in and forced HBO to allow actors to withdraw from the scene if they wished.

I sincerely believe that focusing the efforts of the #MeToo movement on union organizing would make a profound impact on the workplace sexual abuse epidemic, and certainly a greater one than investing all our energy in removing famous offenders from powerful positions. On September 18th, McDonalds workers in 10 cities went on strike to protest sexual harassment in the industry. Support from some of the most prominent #MeToo advocates has been noticeably absent. Celebrities have made sexual abuse in the industry a household issue — now imagine if they did the same with labor rights. Harkening back to Amy Adams’ remarks on the pay gap, we should help the women who work in service and retail industries first, as they are both most likely to face sexual misconduct and most acutely affected by it. #MeToo has not yet failed, but right now, it’s misguided.

Let’s shift the focus away from Hollywood, and fight for them, too.

How THIS Black Man Sees the Town of Oberlin JASON HEWITT | STAFF WRITER

To my first-years out there, welcome to Oberlin. I know things are probably hella wild for you right now. I PROMISE you, this shit gets easier. It can only get easier from here. To all of my returners, welcome back to middle-ofnowhere, neck of the woods Ohio. The racism from shitty white people is definitely included in the “middle-of-nowhere, neck of the woods” part. I swear, Oberlin (the town, not the college) is the type of place where many of the white folks do their best impression of their extreme Southern, pro-right counterparts, but less aggressive. You see, I grew up in Georgia and Texas, and I’d have to grow four or five more hands to count the number of times something racist as hell has happened to me on my fingertips. Southern white folks are just more blatant than the racist white folks in the town of Oberlin and its surrounding areas.

“Where are you going with this, Jason?” Relax, fam. I got you. What I’m saying is that the town of Oberlin has shades of racism, but it’s HELLA passive aggressive. The only time I saw the town’s true colors was its response to that Gibson’s incident in 2016. Returners, if you know, you know. First-years, either ask an upperclassman or Google

YOU CAN MAKE THE ARGUMENT THAT RACISM IS EVERYWHERE, WHICH IS TRUE, AND OBERLIN IS MOST DEFINITELY ONE OF THOSE PLACES.

“Gibson’s Oberlin”, and you’ll definitely see what went down. I don’t have the space in this article to tell y’all the full story. Anyways, THAT was an eye-opening incident for me, because it was the first time I saw how many people were right-winged in the area. Ever since then, I’ve done a lot of observing when I walk through town.

Mind you, I’m a 6’4 black man, so I expect to get stared at like a zoo animal every now and then by some white folks.

However, the looks I get in town are a lot less friendly than I receive on campus. They favor the looks I receive from white folks back home. Then, of course, the whole “getting followed everywhere you go” bullshit happens whenever I walk into the stores here. I’d rather not say which stores, but the stores here are so tiny that it’s obvious. No, lady, I’m not going to steal *insert item here.* I can actually afford to buy shit. Thanks. It’s just the subtle things that I notice in this town.

You can make the argument that racism is everywhere, which is true, and Oberlin is most definitely one of those places. It sure as hell isn’t a racial utopia. Once you get off campus, you’re lowkey in Trumpland. It’s lowkey, though.

The racist folks won’t physically harm you. They just give you a microaggression or two. Is it still trash? Absolutely.

To all my black folks and people of color, stay safe for me, and to everybody, have a wonderful semester.

WELCOME to OBERLIN

Changes to CDS Encourage Disordered Eating, Fatphobia

HANNE WILLIAMS-BARON | CONTRIBUTING WRITER As the changes to Campus Dining Services have noxiously unfurled, I’ve noticed a super-troubling pattern: normalization of disordered eating patterns. As I hear folks around me talk (understandably) about how stressful Stevie is to navigate now, I also hear them talk about how they’re skipping meals altogether because it isn’t “worth it” to try and eat; I hear people talk about how they just “forget” to eat now that DeCafe doesn’t have a sandwich grill; I see friends making pacts to just do “a late dinner instead of eating lunch” (true story!). These are warning signs of greater issues, and I’m worried that the changes to our dining system are encouraging our campus to restrict.

I’m also worried that the complex factors that premeditated the changes to dining have made eating even more of a political act than it’s been in the past. “Boycotting” Stevie may seem like the right thing to do, when you’re frustrated that Dascomb workers were fired, or mad about the inflexibility of changing meal plans. But gaining social and political capital for not eating puts our campus on a fast track to a restrictive eating culture. What does it mean to want to impress your friends by not eating? What does it mean to egg each

other on? When your friend casually brings up “not having eaten yet” at 5pm, how do you respond — “Me neither,” or “Wow! That’s a really long time! Are you feeling okay? Do you want to do breakfast together tomorrow?”

I posted about this on Instagram this week - my fears that we’re encouraging each other not to eat, and my frustration with the pride some are feeling for skipping meals. For me, navigating Oberlin as a fat person has always been difficult. Seeing the ways in which my friends are feeding into fatphobia via small cues in their language has been upsetting.

After I posted about this tension, I got 14 DMs from Obies with the same fears. Clearly, something’s gotta change.

Thus: an anxious fat person’s quick guide to navigating the dining changes and fighting food restriction.

1) Take a friend to Stevie with you.

It’s a lot easier to wait in line for food when you can catch up with a bud at the same time.

When you’re faced with sensorily overwhelming stimuli, the hormone cortisol goes way up in your body. Many studies have shown that sustaining conversation with a friend or loved one brings cortisol levels down and

slows your heart rate. Talk it out and you’ll feel a lot better.

2) Eat outside. Now that Stevie has graced us with ~al fresco~ dining, eat outside in the fresh air! You may have to dodge a bee or two, but I’ve found it to be a way calmer atmosphere and way quieter than sitting inside in the mosh pit of “lower middle”. The same goes for DeCafe - while the weather is still nice, you don’t have to fold yourself into a dark corner at the Rat if you don’t want to.

Sunlight is healthy!

3) Validate food stress, but don’t validate restriction. It’s totally cool to make space to talk about our frustrations with CDS and the administration’s fiscal choices. But try your best to validate the stress, and not the response to the stress if that response is to not eat. Ex: “Ugh, I hate that the Science Cart got cut. I stopped eating breakfast and now I can barely focus in class.” You might respond by saying “Yeah, it really sucks! It’s important that you eat, tho - I take bananas and bagels from Stevie to eat in the morning, have you tried that?”

4) Talk honestly with yourself and your friends about how you perpetuate disordered eating patterns. The only

way to address this is to name it. If you’ve noticed that you and your housemates have a practice of moralizing food, for example, bring it up in your next house meeting. You might broach this by saying: “Hey! I’ve noticed that we talk about ____ like it’s trash.

It makes me uncomfortable. We should all be able to eat what we want without fear of judgment. Can we try harder to speak more carefully about what we eat?”

5) Be compassionate with yourself and others. We’re all raised in diet culture and fatphobia, and it’s really difficult to face and try to work against. If this article has brought up anything up for you, or if the changes to CDS have affected you mentally, please be gentle with yourself. We all deserve to have nurturing relationships to food and our bodies, no matter our histories or what our bodies look like. The counseling center offers resources for those working through eating disorders, and there are many of us trying to heal our relationships to food at Oberlin!! This institution can make it really hard to feel okay, but know that you’re not alone.

‘BOYCOTTING’ STEVIE MAY SEEM LIKE THE RIGHT THING TO DO, WHEN YOU’RE FRUSTRATED THAT DASCOMB WORKERS WERE FIRED, OR MAD ABOUT THE INFLEXIBILITY OF CHANGING MEAL PLANS. BUT GAINING SOCIAL AND POLITICAL CAPITAL FOR NOT EATING PUTS OUR CAMPUS ON A FAST TRACK TO A RESTRICTIVE EATING CULTURE.

Manischewitz Memories: Chabad at Oberlin RABBI SHLOMO | CONTRIBUTING WRITER As any member of the Jewish community can attest to, by just mentioning the name, Manischewitz, you can probably already taste that sweet sticky sting in the back of your throat as the memories douse your brain of singing the four questions around Grandma’s Passover table, or of lighting the menorah on a dark December night. If you are like me, then thoughts might drift to Hebrew School (and also if you are like me you may have more memories of the principal’s office than the actual classroom). Some of us within the Jewish community— let’s be honest, most of us— have a complicated relationship with

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our Jewish upbringing and education. Some may call it a love/hate relationship, because we love to hate it. And why wouldn’t we hate it, forced to suffer through hours of Hebrew school, where the main goal was to memorize enough Hebrew so as to not embarrass yourself or your parents at your Bar or Bat Mitzvah. Although, the huge kosher dill pickles that we could buy at the tzedakah snack bar was a half-decent incentive to keep showing up. Oh, and don’t forget getting dropped off at Shabbat services for the bar mitzvahs of your “friends” (they only invited you because their mom made them invite the whole class

too).

Well Bubuleh, wrap yourself in your big kid talis, because Jewish life at Oberlin is not filled with misery and guilt. Contrary to popular belief, Judaism doesn’t have to be brimming with experiences that will keep you on your therapist’s couch for a decade; rather, it can be filled with tons of JOY and a whole lot less OY! The Jewish experience is here for the taking with Chabad student group. Come as you are--it’s a space where we all learn and grow together as well as learn from one another. It’s a place to learn some pretty wild mystical meditation on Rosh Hashanah,

Is Oberlin A School Worth Preserving?

GABE SHESTACK | CONTRIBUTING WRITER In my junior year, I decided I had had enough and applied to the Financial Aid and Admissions Committee. As one of two voting students on the committee, I was hopeful that I had found a space on campus that would be receptive to my complaints and ideas. Instead, the Director of Financial Aid repeatedly berated me for my suggestions, taking them instead as insults. My ideas included giving off-campus housing priority to lower income students (it is half the price, and wealthier students often live off campus regardless due to ‘ghosting’) and giving job priority to students with work-study (work-study money that is not earned is not disbursed to students at the end of the year).

Both ideas, which would significantly better the lives of many students without seriously impacting the budget, were shot down and treated as attacks on the school. This type of thinking only makes sense when Oberlin is comfortable with being an unequal space; suggestions to divert funds get treated as treasonous because they take away from the ultimate goal of preserving the school. But why preserve a school that, in the most literal sense, has no interest in preserving you?

This is a question I have to ask myself more than I’d like, and a question that becomes more and more pressing as our education is continuously auctioned off for the sake of Oberlin’s future preservation. The future is always a weak excuse to not provide for people in the present: queer theorist Lee Edelman famously argued that austerity for the sake of posterity is antithetical to queerness as it relies on convention and reaction to justify itself. Any legitimate complaint that concerns itself with justice or equity can be quickly shot down by the classic 20th century reactionaries’ refrain of “what about the children?”– a claim that in the 21st century has

found itself in the question “what about the budget?”. If an institution is not primarily concerned with the needs of its current constituents what is it really concerned with?

Oberlin is in a quandary: the school needs more money in order to improve, but also needs to improve to attract more money. This basic dilemma primarily results in two strategies: 1) pander to rich students in order to make them more comfortable and thus more likely to donate (throw fun events, more amenities, etc.) and 2) skim off the bottom as much as possible in order to save money (pay professors less, late fees for tuition, students pay for their own classroom supplies).

sive taxes and road blocks for lower/middle class students. Somehow, through a perverse utilization of cost benefit analysis, Oberlin has decided it is somehow okay to not fully provide for its students: the incessant need to financially stabilize has unintentionally divorced Oberlin’s values from its actions.

To many attending, Oberlin’s progressive veneer represents a broken promise, thousands in debt, and a reinvigorated disdain for the powers that be. There are countless ways to better the lives of middle/lower income students at Oberlin, such as more fundraising for financial aid and less investment in large scale amenities meant to attract more money

“THIS ISN’T A PLACE THAT REALLY CARES ABOUT ME, OR QUEER PEOPLE, OR ANYONE REALLY–UNLESS THEY CAN OF COURSE, PITCH INTO THE “KEEP OBERLIN RUNNING FOREVER FUND.” If it isn’t clear, this dynamic has transformed Oberlin into a pay-to-play operation, where wealthy students await a degree comfortably, while middle- and lower-class students struggle desperately just to get by. No college can seriously claim to be based on the pursuit of knowledge in a society rife with inequality: the value of a college degree has shifted away from the value of a good education towards the value of a class barrier. Oberlin is not unique in this regard; however, for a college with one of the most progressive reputations in the country, Oberlin has a lot of regres-

(new swimming pools and live video streaming), many of which would not negatively affect the budget, yet in a climate of automatic subjugation to a vague and uncertain future, these ideas fall on deaf ears.

I began this article with a reference to queerness for a reason: a year before I got involved with the Financial aid and Admissions Committee, as a newly transferred first semester sophomore, I had big hopes for Oberlin. I imagined it was a place where I could be myself and be accepted for it–I had sort of decided that Oberlin was where

I would finally come out. When I first arrived to Oberlin I saw events like Queer Beers and felt like queerness was part of the institution’s values. But when I realized meaningful resources like STD testing aren’t abundantly free or available on campus (or through the student insurance plan), that wealthy students have the ear of the president at banquets their fathers speak at, that almost every nod towards inequality ostracizes you from your peers and college, I saw that like many of Oberlin’s values, queerness had been relegated to the realm of symbolism. This isn’t a place that really cares about me, or queer people, or anyone really–unless they can of course, pitch into the “keep Oberlin running forever fund.” Oberlin’s reliance on market rationality to justify the mistreatment of many of its students represents the ways in which private colleges have solidified themselves as a class barrier, one that increasingly puts people through the ringer in order to access it. Oberlin has a large endowment and a wealthy community–there is no excuse to let it continue in its present form. The cost of a college education should not also include the price of humiliation and degradation for those who cannot afford to pay full ride. Too many people worked too hard to get here just to be mistreated and cheated at the footsteps of opportunity.

Manischewitz Memories: Chabad at Oberlin continued bake your own delicious challah, and engage in some fantastic dialogue about all kinds of topics. Every semester there is a lunch and learn (every Wednesday) with bagels and lox, but the best part is the conversation. In the past we have had topics like “Judaism as Activism”, “On the Couch: a Psychological analysis of Biblical Personalities, and one of my favorites was “You be the Rabbi: A Study in Jewish Law,” a conversation during which the group helped to decide laws. This semester we will be having a class called “Epic Fail” where we look at some major mistakes made in the Bible, and relate it to when we feel like we have similarly failed in our own lives.

There is also the annual Jewish Heritage Fest where we will learn about all different Jew-

ish communities from around the world, and also get to sample their food!

We think it’s important to discuss and express our individual and unique Jewish identities, which is why we started a platform called “How Do You Jew”. This platform is a creative arts collective which hosts different events focused on the various arts. Every semester there is a How Do You Jew spoken word event, similar to the Moth, held at the Local Coffee shop where students simply share their own identity on the backdrop of some killer live jazz. We have also hosted painting, creative writing (we want to put out a zine this year), and musical events as part of How Do You Jew. What inspires me most about this special community is how open

and holistic it is. Chabad at Oberlin is not really just a student group, it’s a family, and a fun and eclectic one at that.

This semester has other exciting stuff too, like, if you’ve got some burning questions about Judaism make sure to come to the “Grill the Rabbi & Rebbetzin” BBQ, where there is an open Q&A session during which no topic is off limits (we really mean that).

We also care about mental health and personal sustainability in a real way. SafetyNet is a new project to help you feel good and be the best you through an awesome support network of friendship and mentorship. Or if you just wanna relax and push pause on the grind of the week, make some time on Friday evening to chill with some folks at Shabbos

dinner at Chabad House. When we say it’s the four best courses in Oberlin, we mean it, and you’ll just have to come around to find out if we have Manischewitz for a l’chaim.

More important than any event or program, Chabad is a place where you belong.

To keep up with what’s going on with Chabad student group, you can be in touch with Hannah Shafer, or stop the big bearded guy on campus… or validate our need to feel cool and popular and friend us on Facebook and follow @obierabbi on Insta.

ENVS Department: Where art thou?

IAN FEATHER | CO-EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

For as long as I’ve been here, the Oberlin College administration’s approach to environmental issues has largely been a matter of doing whatever it takes to make the College appear more “sustainable”. For example, the building of a fancy, brand-new, LEED-certified hotel that has exacerbated the College’s budget problems in the short-term.

Clearly, this approach is lacking when it comes to the holistic approach that issues of sustainability in the not-strictly-environmental sense require. So when the news broke last year that NEXUS construction was approaching Oberlin, I didn’t hold my breath waiting for so much as a peep from the administration regarding the pipeline. As an Environmental Studies major, however, I’ve been taught that sustainability is so much more than ‘green’ buildings, that it encompasses issues of social and economic justice as well. More specifically, I was taught that fossil fuel infrastructure projects, such as pipelines, often disproportionately harm Black, brown, and/or low-income individuals.

This year, construction of the 255-mile long, 36” indiameter NEXUS natural gas pipeline began in earnest within Ohio, including through the southern part of the town of Oberlin beginning in May. Construction in Oberlin is ongoing, and years-long resistance efforts by community, student, and interfaith groups continue.

However, to the surprise, sadness, and frustration of those of us involved in the fight against NEXUS, these efforts have not yet been aided by the Oberlin College Environmental Studies Department in any meaningful way.

To be clear, I believe that most, if not all, members of the department care deeply about the impact of the NEXUS pipeline, both locally and beyond. Unfortunately, however, this makes the collective inaction of

WHAT IMPACT WOULD LESS THAN A DOZEN MORE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN THE NEXUS FIGHT MAKE? A BIGGER ONE THAN YOU MAY EXPECT. the department even more disheartening--especially considering that some of its members work and live within this community.

As students of the College and Conservatory, through specific events like Day of Service and the more general ethic of the school, we are rightfully expected to care about and work to benefit the larger community that the town of Oberlin embodies. And while involvement

Local organizers disrupt construction of the NEXUS pipeline in Medina County, OH in May, 2018.

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in things like battles against fossil fuel pipelines have certainly (albeit, unfortunately) never been a requirement to work for the ENVS Department, I would hope that the faculty would feel a strong enough inclination to do something.

But what impact would less than a dozen more people involved in the NEXUS fight make? A bigger one than you may expect. Having the active support of adults with doctoral degrees--moreover, degrees that relate specifically to environmental issues--provides increased legitimacy to the cause.

Furthermore, with the height of NEXUS construction in Oberlin taking place over this past summer (likely an intentional move to avoid student demonstrations) faculty could have theoretically carried the fight through the summer until students returned.

Ultimately, it is not too late to stop the NEXUS pipeline from reaching completion, although time is rapidly dwindling. It is not too late for substantive action on the part of the ENVS Department, but this action must happen now.

Social Capital Firm is Busted for Clout Fixing NICK BERSTEIN | CONTRIBUTING WRITER Last Friday, Crédit Sociale, a hedge fund based at Oberlin College that manages the social capital of nearly 1,200 undergraduates, came under fire after its CEO, Eddy Tumbokon, was accused of embezzlement and securities fraud by former clients of the firm. Investigation into Tumbokon’s allegedly dishonest practices was first called for in February, when WikiLeaks revealed the authorship of nearly 100 anonymous Oberlin Crush submissions.

Nearly 20 such Crushes on subjects ranging from Tumbokon’s general intelligence and thoughtfulness to his wonderful sense of humor and great skin were found to have been submitted by none other than Tumbokon himself.

Tumbokon justified this maneuver as exemplification of his own social theory he’s coined as the “Staggered Clout Effect.” In a heated press conference last spring, Tumbokon lashed out at a Grape reporter, asserting: “I submitted the posts to demonstrate to possible investors that I was — and continue to be — a viable resource for social capital investment. Maybe people didn’t notice it at the beginning of freshman year before I made those Crushes, but eventually they caught on to the fact that I really do have great skin and that I am fucking hilarious.”

The Staggered Clout Effect, Tumbokon claims, was instrumental to the success of Crédit Sociale. Later on, an irate Tumbokon faced a PR nightmare when he called the Grape reporter a “social capital socialist” after they suggested that Tumbokon’s actions were denying other students a fair chance at generating their own Staggered Clout.

Indeed, it would seem that the Staggered Clout Effect gave Tumbokon more social capital than he knew what to do with. The dossier was enough to warrant an FBI investigation into Crédit Sociale’s financial records, which revealed that Tumbokon was reportedly hiding “millions, perhaps billions” worth of social capital — much of which came directly from his investors — in offshore accounts

THE GRAPE

in Switzerland, the Cayman Islands, and Kenyon College. Addressing this in a Twitter post, Tumbokon claimed that this was a “legitimate business practice” for reducing the federal tax on the “likes” on social media posts. The controversy prompted Twitter to add a “dislike” feature to the site; Tumbokon’s tweet quickly became the mostdisliked post in the history of the Internet.

Tumbokon and Crédit Sociale are expected to face litigation and will likely have to wage a fierce Discourse War on the Oberlin Meme Page in order to stay financially solvent and socioeconomically uncancelled. In addition, analysts have suggested that, if Tumbokon is prosecuted, the flight of social capital from the College would be unprecedented. Without Crédit Sociale, the circulation of social capital throughout other prominent Oberlin sociocorporations, such as Splitchers and First-Floor Mudd (including its subsidiary, Azariah’s), would slow to a nearcomplete standstill. Such a huge loss of GDSP (Gross Domestic Social Product) would cause Oberlin to spiral (even further) into a depression both economic and social. The date for Crédit Sociale’s hearing before a court of law is yet to be determined. In the meantime, you can follow disgraced CEO Eddy Tumbokon on Twitter: @ EddyTumbo, or on Instagram: @tumbroke for rinsta; @daddyjuicejuice for finsta.

Five Ways to Deal With Your Class Guilt LIZA MCKEEN SHAPIRO | CONTRIBUTING WRITER Do your political values sit in uncomfortable conflict with your upbringing? Spent one too many nights struggling with the enormous burden of having grown up wealthy but feeling a little icky about it? Fret no further! Here are five steps to deal with your class guilt, from a socialist prep school graduate to you.

1. Nod understandingly whenever one of your friends complains about financial aid.

You might not have to worry about FAFSA, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still support those who do! The next time one of your friends brings up any of the bureaucratic obstacles related to obtaining financial aid, be sure to let them know that while you can’t exactly empathize, you can definitely sympathize. Furrow your brow and shake your head dismayingly, and maybe even throw in a “wow, that sucks” to really hit the point home! This will let your friend know that you are class-conscious despite the odds stacked against you, and you can pat yourself on the back for being such a good comrade while forgetting that you will graduate without loans.

2.

Like every single article Jacobin posts on Facebook.

This is a great way to signal to all of your Facebook friends that your politics are definitely different from those of your parents! Every time the socialist magazine Jacobin posts a link to one of their articles, smash that like to throw your support behind the cause — even if they’re just doing that thing when they repost an article they already shared a couple months ago! If you really want to do your part, share with the caption “Everyone should read this.” It will definitely inform the perspective of your Oberlin friend who disagrees with you about whether Maoist crypto-neo-anarcho-communism is a more viable economic model than protosocialist Marxist-Leninist constructivism.

3. Reserve some time each day to ruminate on the advantages you’ve received in life.

Whether between classes or right before you fall asleep, set aside a chunk of time to feel guilty about the social stratum you were born into. Contemplate

whether you would be in the same place you are now based on your merit alone, or wonder if you’ll end up abandoning your radical beliefs when you enter the professional world out of a desire to preserve the lifestyle you’ve always known! The possibilities are endless. Of course, this won’t actually accomplish anything, but it will make you feel better about yourself — and everyone knows the revolution cannot prevail without self-care.

4. Acknowledge your privileged upbringing by describing your family as “upper middle class.”

Take step three even further by admitting that you were born with an inherent advantage over others.

Recognize that your family did not just “get by” or was “comfortable”, and make the bold statement that you were upper middle class. Never mind that you went to a private school with tuition hovering around the national average income, or took a vacation every school break like clockwork. You grew up upper middle class — emphasis on middle class. Be sure to let everyone know that while you

may be well off, your parents got that way by doing something cool and creative and definitely not finance (note: if your parents actually do work in finance, have fun with that!).

5. Write an article making fun of your own deep-seated unease with how you were raised to try to feel like less of a hypocrite. ;)

Fan theory: Sophie Jones (Editor in Chief) + Chicken Little = PJ McCormick (Arts + Culture Editor)

+ 22

=

Confessions of a Self-Hating Juu(ler) OLIVIA HACKER-KEATING | COPY EDITOR It’s not easy to realize that an aspect of yourself — something so core to your identity, that everyone recognizes you by, and that you are supposed to hold with pride, is the thing that causes you the most shame. I went through a roller coaster of emotions — denial, embarrassment, rage — when I realized that I, no matter how much it pained me to say it, was a selfhating Juuler.

I never really identified with the label “Juuler.” It was something that I did, sure, but it didn’t define me. It wasn’t like I actually believed that Juuling was better for you than smoking cigarettes, but I liked taking part in the community rituals — trading different flavored pods, mastering how to blow smoke rings — I was only culturally Juulish.

It wasn’t until I realized how nonJuulers perceived me that I started to grow ashamed. My reality check happened on the ‘Sco ramp one Wednesday night, when a group of my peers asked me if I wanted to come smoke. As I reached into my back pocket to grab my Juul, excited to get a puff of the comforting cool cucumber that reminds me of home, their faces distorted in confusion, and then disgust. “Oh no,” one of my acquaintances said, gripping onto her cigarette like a life

line, “we don’t do that.” I tried to protest, explaining that we’re not so different, that we all like to smoke, we just have different interpretations of what smoking is, and while they gave me strained smiles and said they understood, I could tell I was forever marked in their eyes as a dirty Juuler.

Ever since then, I started to change.

It began slowly: removing the Juul charger from my laptop, placing the jar of

discarded pod cases under my bed where no one could see. I’m not embarrassed, I rationalized, there’s just so many other parts of my personality I want people to appreciate, I don’t want to be viewed as only a Juuler. But quickly the negative thoughts grew, and I could tell the antiJuulers had gotten to me. I ceased Juuling in public all together, and whenever I practiced in private I found my oncerelaxing vice now filled me with anxiety.

What would the cigarette smokers say if they could see me now? What would they think of me?

I knew my shame had reached a high point point when, at a pregame, as the discussion turned to Juuls, I found myself nodding along with the naysayers. I felt my lips move as if out my control, and heard myself say “who do people who Juul think they are, teenage Youtubers?” As friends agreed and laughed, I could feel my Juul burning a rectangular shaped hole of shame in my pocket, its red light flickering from low battery as if calling out to me, “remember who you are.”

The other day, I was walking home from Mudd and paused when I caught a glimpse of a blurry figure out of the corner of my eye. I saw something shimmer in her hand--was it just a pen? An unusually small phone? It can’t be…and yet it was.

This giddy, innocent first-year was hitting her Juul with pride, untainted by society’s harsh judgments. I smiled at her, and slowly lifted a discarded mango pod from the bottom of my backpack, raising it to her in solidarity. I hope to one day regain her self-assurance. I think I will.

SECURITY NOTEBOOK Thursday September 20th, 2018 3:30AM: A student in Dascomb Hall reported a burning smell in the second floor kitchen. Safety and Security officers arrived to find a flaming ramen noodle cup in the microwave. Upon further investigation, it was revealed that an unidentified student put the cup of noodles in the microwave without adding water, causing a fire.

4:22PM: An affiliate university official from Bangkok, Thailand called Safety and Security to report that a group of Computer Science majors who were supposed to be collaborating on a code with the affiliate official’s students

appeared to be smoking marijuana in the Oberlin Portal. Safety and Security officials were dispatched to the portal.

When they arrived, there were no students in the portal but there was a smell resembling marijuana. The Computer Science majors have not been identified.

Friday September 21st, 2018 11:03PM: A student reported a strange banging noise coming from a quad in South Hall. When officers arrived on the scene, they discovered several small vibrators trapped in tiny cages. The sounds appeared to be produced by the rattling of the vibrators against the

cages, which were far too small to comforably house the sex toys. The student was asked to move their TIMARA project to a practice room.

Saturday September 22nd, 2018 2:42AM: Officers received a call from a student reporting that their skin had ‘turned to rubber’ and ‘all of their friends secretly hated them’. Officers arrived to find the student laying on their bed in Barrows covered in Cheeto dust. Upon further inquiry, it was revealed that the student has consumed a brownie containing a substance resembling marijuana. The student was referred to the Counseling Center.

11:30AM: Officers responded to a call reporting creaking and moaning sounds coming from a fourth floor scholar study in Mudd. When officers arrived on the scene, they discovered a set of bare buttocks pressed against the window of the door to the scholar study. It quickly became clear that two students were engaging in sexual acts in the scholar study. The students were asked to refrain from the sexual acts and referred for disciplinary action.

Freshman Caught In Protest Unaware Of What’s Being Shut Down, But Is Totally Game Regardless NIELS TRUMAN | CONTRIBUTING WRITER After buying three new books at Ben Franklin about inequality in America (perfect for sitting unread on the bookshelf in his dorm room), freshman James Jackson heard emphatic shouts and chants coming from Tappan Square.

Enthralled by the display of passion and #resistance, Jackson hurried over to what was clearly a protest and squeezed his way to the center of the action. He didn’t quite know what he was protesting (he was pretty sure something was getting shut down?) but he raised his fist to the sky and started yelling “the time is now!”

“I’m a big activist,” said Jackson. “Social justice has been a lifelong passion of mine ever since 2016. I went to the Women’s March, two years in a row, actually, and even held a sign that said ‘Dump Trump’ on it the second time. I like to think that made a difference.” When asked what else he’s done as an activist, Jackson cited his “very woke” Twitter account and his practice of eating vegan on Tuesdays. “I care about a lot of issues,” he said. “I’m a very well-read guy.”

After about ten minutes of protesting in which Jackson yelled nothing in particular, Jackson saw a student he knew across the street. He got his attention with, “Ay, bro, check out this dope protest I’m at!” The other student, John Jacobson, was enamored with what he was seeing and replied with, “No way, bro! What’s it for?” Jackson shrugged and said, “They’re shutting down a building or some shit.

Come through, dog!” Despite not having the right of way, Jacobson ran across the street, almost getting run over. He worked his way right up to Jackson and joined in with the current chant.

Throughout the protest, Jackson brought over a number of other students in a very similar fashion, including James Jensen, Joyce Johnson, and Jamie Jarvis.

At times, the protest looked more like a party than a demonstration, and at one point Jacobson brought out a marijuana cigar and passed it around. At other times the spirit of activism was more alive than ever, though some of the chants started by Jackson and his friends seemed to be off-

topic, such as “Hey, hey, ho, ho; the NRA has got to go,” and “No Trump! No KKK! No fascist USA!” None of the original protesters were still present an hour later, replaced entirely by Jackson and his cohort. They got sidetracked and eventually gave up protesting altogether. One onlooker said of

the scene, “Oh, this is a protest? I thought it was just a bunch of North Campus people partying in Tappan. Weird.”

The following day, Jackson tweeted the following: “It was inspiring to be a part of Oberlin activism at its finest yesterday, we got that thing shut down probably! #bethechange #staywoke.”

The Signs as First Year Seminars ZOE JASPER | STAFF WRITER Virgo: Form and Formula: The Interplay Between Mathematics and the Arts Libra: Justice in America?

Scorpio: Erotic City: Prince and a Purple Urban Imaginary

Aries: Character Wars: What is Virtue and (How) Can We Attain It? Taurus: It's Never Aliens — Understanding Astronomy In The News

Sagittarius: Drugs!

Gemini: Designer Babies and Other Possibilities

Capricorn: Innovation and Economic Growth

Cancer: From Creation to Apocalypse

Aquarius: So You Want to be an Intellectual? A Roadmap to the Republic of Letters

Leo: Pirates and Piracy in Times Past

Pisces: Objects and Apparitions: Poetry as Fiction and Fact

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Is it just me, or is Integrated Media professor and Bail Bloc founder Grayson Earle kinda hot?

Skunks Get Crunk, Students Get Un-Stunk LUCI WILLIAMS | CONTRIBUTING WRITER New year, same old shit in this little patch of heaven in Northeastern Ohio: cans of La Croix missing from the dorm fridge, short-lived outrage and activism over the changes to first- and second-year meal plans, the serendipitous drop in the price of weed. Perhaps you’ve even seen a surfeit of skunks patrolling the campus as you sniff your way through an aromatic breeze of dank smoke. The latter, folks, is no coincidence. The skunks work for us now.

This August, an unnamed Environmental Studies major took it upon themselves to combine their major with their favorite vice. “I was thinking about all of the times I felt self-conscious smoking a J because of the smell. Not that I cared that much about the odor itself, but, you know, cops,” they said, carefully boiling their

piece in the South Hall kitchen. “I knew there had to be someone or something in our community that could either get rid of or mask the incriminating smell. Imagine if the cops shut down a party and smelled weed. We’d be screwed! That’s when it hit me: skunks! Those would be the dudes for the job.” That’s how Oberlin’s Boys Against Blunts came to be.

Growing up in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the alliance’s creator had a knack for communicating with flora and fauna. The sophomore was able to employ the language skills gained from his rugged background and create a mutually beneficial deal. The contract drafted was simple: 24/7 coverage for cannabis consumers in exchange for 20% of the AJLC garden’s weekly yield for the skunks.

Anytime someone is about to light up, all

they need do is send an email to boysagainstblunts@oberlin.edu with a ‍ , and a skunk will be deployed to the student’s location to stand guard against the authorities. Should any arrive, the skunk on call would spray and scurry conspicuously in front of the smoking location, throwing any chances for a reasonable search out the window.

As the program is in its pilot semester, the only way to assess its effectiveness is to use it. Send the email, spark up a blunt, and let the skunks do their job. When asked about any apprehension regarding launch of the program, the program’s creator responded, “Nope. There are two things

that’ll never leave Oberlin: students with weed and skunks. I’ve devised a system that’ll allow both to coexist in a mutually beneficial way for the foreseeable future.”

Think one mammal can change the world?

So do we.

First-Year Amazed by All Decafé Has to Offer SAM SCHUMAN | STAFF WRITER First-year student Alexander Shtykov was seen starting wide-eyed in Decafé last Friday as he took in the wide variety of prepackaged and grab-andgo options available in the on-campus “deli.”

“This is amazing! I can get three hard-boiled eggs for just $3.50?! And I can still fit an off-brand cola on the same meal swipe? Man, this college has everything!” said the Minnesota native, who sources say is desperate to justify

his decision to attend Oberlin over Vanderbilt.

While most returning students bemoaned the changes to Decafé, including the end of buying groceries with meal swipes and the demise of the famed Decafé sandwich counter, Shtykov seemed ecstatic to simply have access to a personal pizza on his meal plan. He was seen enjoying such a meal alone in the Rat last Friday, where sources say he was eating dinner to avoid having to ask his intimidating roommate to go to Stevie with him.

When asked, Shtykov appeared unperturbed by the news that last year he would’ve been able to purchase name-brand snacks on his meal plan, saying, “Yeah, it’d be nice to buy some snacks on my meal plan, but hey, I can get all the apple juice I want!”

Many other students were confused and more than a bit annoyed by

Looking up at queer beers and realizing all your friends are hooking up with each other

26

Shtykov’s appreciation for the new Decafé, saying he didn’t know what he was missing.

“Personally, I think he’s got it all wrong,” said Conservatory third-year Abbey Marist, later adding, “Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to get cute lil’ fruit cups and all the fucking butterscotch pudding I want, but when you take away my made-to-order turkey on ciabatta and give me a cold PB&J, shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

Nevertheless, Shtykov was last seen walking out of Wilder on the phone with his mom, where sources reported him saying “Yeah mom, college is good, the dining service is great! I can get anything I want from Decafé, from the salad bar to premade salads!”

Proud Bois in Paradise: A Reckoning SOPHIE JONES | CO-EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Dark times in the United States of America; dark times in its heartland, Oberlin, Ohio. Nowhere is the rot more visible than in the proliferation of “alt right” hate groups in our nation since the election of Donald Trump. Lo these past 18 months, I’ve done my best as an avid student journalist to keep up by reading every sympathetic New York Times profile of “the fascist next door” I can get my grubby hands on. But no amount of Vox or Vice watched with the volume off in my queer theory seminar could have prepared me for what I found in my OCMR earlier this month.

Scrawled in spidery MUJI ink on the back of a one-page reading response to Eli Clare’s Exile and Pride dated from the first week of the semester, the note invited me to a “check in” late one Tuesday night, signed “the Proud Bois”.

Ever the intrepid reporter, I put on my best knee-length cut offs and most shapeless button down shirt in the hopes of blending in with the throngs of Milo Yiannopoulos stans I expected to meet. See, I knew the Proud Boys. The viral video of one alt right, pro-man, proto fascist Proud Boy struggling to rip up a counter protester’s sign was filmed in my own hometown, Seattle.

I’ve seen them roaming the streets like emasculated coyotes in a post apocalyptic wasteland. I knew what I was getting in to when I arrived at the address listed on the note, or at least... I thought I did.

The front porch was crowded with fixed gear bikes and littered with Black Label cans. Approaching nervously, I rapped on the door in what I hoped was a sufficiently masculine manner. Why had they invited me here? Liz Phair’s Fuck and Run filled the air as the door swung inward to reveal… the smiling face of my former group project partner from Gender, Feminist, and Sexuality Studies 100. Behind them, bowl cut and buzz-cut-fluffy heads bobbed in the warm light of a single bulb shrouded

by a red silk scarf; bleached blonde mullets glowing like scruffy halos.

Someone was smoking a lavender spliff. I was ushered in and handed a cheap beer. I tentatively joined the circle of folks, hands jauntily wrapped around Carhartt overall buckles or shoved in Dickies’ front pockets, leaned with a playfully casual standoffishness against walls and furniture, even as the rooms many chairs remained unoccupied.

I was more than halfway through my second “borrowed” Turkish Royal before I began to notice the tell-tale signs that the Proud Boys weren’t who I expected them to be; an artfully displayed pyramid of doll parts on a coffee table; a conspicuously placed and expensive-looking record collection; a screenprint of vegetables safetypinned to the back of a ragged denim jacket; a dog-eared copy of Stone Butch Blues. The person next to me, a friendly looking someone with well placed grease stains on their corduroys, one pendulous earring, and a wry smile, caught me staring at the novel. “So you’ve read SBB?” they asked, the acronym sliding off their pierced tongue with such flippant ease that I could barely muster up a nervous answer. But what kind of Proud Boy was so well versed in the work of Leslie Feinberg, a self-identified "antiracist white, working-class, secular Jewish, transgender, lesbian, female, revolutionary communist"?

Punch drunk from a night of flirtatious one-ups-man-ship comparing stories of our respective summers on sustainable farms (who showered least? Who exchanged the most heartfelt letters? Who learned how to ferment? Who spent the most time in The Desert?) I was shocked by how comfortable I had become in their midst.

I had thought of myself as a

righteous outsider in this tastefully kitschy apartment, a crusader, even.

And yet, my hosts and I had so much in common, at least aesthetically… numerous ill-conceived tattoos, crusty nalgenes, random objects repurposed into jewelry, linen. Was I a Proud Boy? I looked around; like me, the group was all white, exhibited a thinly guised disdain for women, and, strangest of all, harbored proclivities for off the grid living. Check, Check, Check. Shit, was I a Proud Boy? Then it occured to me; perhaps the spelling of “boi” on my invitation had been intentional; a innocuous slang term-- one that, ahem, originated in queer communities of color --used to uplift, banter, validate, and flirt amongst gays. I hadn’t made the connection. Was I a Proud Boi? How

was that different?

Later, I asked one of my new friends-- the one who wears a wallet chain as a wallet chain and a different wallet chain as a necklace-- if they had meant anything by the reference to the alt right organization. They responded with confusion, never having heard of the “Proud Boys”, and then anger.

“Anyway”, they pointed out, defending their right to the nickname, “cis men don’t have a monopoly on masculinity!

Don’t you follow JD Samson on Instagram?”

So I guess they… I… we? Aren’t Proud Boys, but rather Proud Bois, a scene like any other at Oberlin with its own unspoken norms and social orders, a penchant for rural, working class aesthetics, and a totally appropriate amount of hate for a non hate group.

HANNAH SANDOZ | CONTRIBUTING ARTIST 28