On May 15, I will graduate from Wofford College. In cliche-senior-nostalgia manner, I must say that words cannot do proper justice to the friends and memories I have made over the past four years. I consider myself lucky to find my niche at Wofford, given how little consideration I gave to my college decision. Wofford was my first choice, and though I applied to other places, I only visited Wofford and wanted to come here. My dad graduated with the Class of 1985 and this place had always been a second home, perhaps even being the most consistent location of my life. Both of my parents are United Methodist Clergy and with that occupation comes frequent moves around the state. Though my family relocated no less than five times before I left for college, Gibbs Stadium, Benjamin Johnson Arena, and Old Main were familiar sites due to my dad's season tickets and our mutual appreciation for Wofford athletics.
When I first stepped foot on campus as a student, like many first-year students I didn't know a thing about Greek Life, anything about the college's traditions, or the student body's taboo against cargo shorts, among other things. Like many first-year students at Wofford (and for what it's worth, many small colleges around the country), my new college was a different and at times overwhelming experience. Fortunately, I was able to find friends to last a lifetime and to have experiences I wouldn't trade for anything. I can't emphasize that enough. With that said, I would be lying if I said that my experience at Wofford was a walk in the park. Like every school in America, Wofford has its difficulties, many of which have nothing to do with academics.
In spite of these difficulties, I cannot help but feel that Wofford has the potential to be a better institution of higher education. In this sense, I don't mean to say that Wofford isn't one of the best schools in the southeast or the country. It's already at that point and one could find the rankings of each program with the convenience of a Google search.
Instead, I mean to say that Wofford has the potential to better prepare the members of its community to not only be a scholar of the academy, an innovator of technology, or a captain of industry, but also to be community leaders and role models of citizenship.
Though some may assert that molding individuals of high character, virtue, and honor has always been what the college has stood for, this is revisionist history. Old Main was built by slave labor. The college was officially a place of white men's learning for much longer than the alternative. The Village stands where the North Side once stood, and the means of that transformation are perhaps somewhat questionable. Intaminatis fulget honoribus.
I say these things not to profane a place many (myself included) hold sacred, but to make a point lost upon many, not just at Wofford but around the country: we can't fix problems we refuse to talk about. We can't ignore the consequences of the past. Pretending the world remains perfect as it currently exists is in some ways more utopian and unrealistic than any proposed solution to fix it. In many ways the story of Wofford is the story of America, and Wofford's problems are a microcosm of the country's problems.
Unlike the rest of the country, or even other larger institutions of higher education, Wofford is in a unique position due to its identity. We are, after all, not just the Wofford community, but the Wofford family as well.
When we claim to have this familial bond as a community, it's not just a sentiment but a social reality. In the age of the Internet and social media, anonymity is abundant while accountability is rare. So often we hear arguments and rude comments from faceless people, but for the most part Wofford isn't like that. Every argument has a face, every commentator has a name, every perspective has a story.
Indeed, the often-ignored potential of Wofford in this age of static and simulated-outrage is its ability to humanize those "not like us" in the context of a tight-knit community. Unfortunately, like the rest of the world, everyone in the community has overwhelming confidence in their own moral voice to the point at which they overuse it. Consequently, the Wofford "family" more closely resembles the tensions of a Thanksgiving dinner on the verge of madness with the smallest slight, leading to outrage. "They're just a bunch of racists," They're just a bunch of SJWs," "The Administration is out to get us," and so on. Only rarely do these sentiments accomplish anything more than a figuratively torn rotator cuff from patting ourselves on the back so much. It's easier to be outraged than consequential.
I don't say this as a saint among sinners. Arguably, I've been one of the worst. My sophomore year I published a blog post complaining about something I know is trivial in retrospect. It got a lot of traction at the time, but I've since deleted it because it was by all standards a terrible post. Granted, that didn't stop many people from liking, sharing and overall agreeing with its incoherence and outrage.
In this way, one could say that Wofford falls short not because of anything the institution itself does, so much as The Family fails to be a Family. It's easy to assume that one person is one way because of the letters they wear or another person is another way because of their lack of letters. It's easy to assume that a professor hates you just because you're wearing letters. It's easy to assume that a person of a certain race thinks one way about you or your own race. It's easy to assume that administrators hate Greek Life. Often these ideas aren't really substantiated so much as they are assumed, and with that come unsubstantiated conclusions that have a life of their own, void of facts. From here, The Family ceases to be, and replacing it comes an unnecessary tension.
If I could say one thing to myself or anyone entering into their first semester at Wofford, it would be that Wofford is the best place on Earth...but it can be so much better. Wofford is full of faculty, staff, students, and administrators who care intimately about the well-being and future of the college and all of the people within. Whether it be President Samhat, Dean Bigger, the head of your Major department, Jennifer Gutierrez-Caldwell, the president of that one Greek organization you don't like too much, we all want the same thing, or at the very least those interests don't contradict. The Family is there, but only if you look for it. What makes it less than ideal is that so many people fail to do that.
So with all of that in mind, don't write that bad post. Ask a question. Call for a meeting. Let others speak for themselves before assuming their motive. A liberal arts education, at base, is a conversation that cannot exist without the will to use one's voice. As long as that will is absent, the Family's going to fall short.
Above all then, you have a voice. Use it.
Joe James
Class of 2016
