In some ways, Duke is split into two moral opposites. I got the first clue during my orientation weekend, when I persuaded my hall-mates from Brown to accompany me to the Marketplace party. What a great idea! I mean, what could be wrong with bringing my Southern, conservative, religious friends to a hip-hop party?
Ah, I was doe-eyed indeed.
We entered the Marketplace and I immediately started my little white-boy wiggle. I was too busy getting my groove on to notice that my friends were standing on the side. Judging by the looks on their faces, you would have thought the people bumping and grinding were drowning kittens. They left the Marketplace within minutes and promptly placed me on the other end of the virgin-whore spectrum. From that night on, I was the morally loose, booty-shaking sheep that had strayed from the pure, virginal flock.
Yet, I also remember going to parties with other students from Brown and, while riding the bus to West, being asked why we were going out at all if we didn't drink.
I couldn't help but question the go-all-out or don't-go-at-all mentality. It seemed to reaffirm a dichotomy, suggesting you were to indulge in everything or completely reject it.
Although the virgin-whore extremes are common social constructs, nowhere is this stereotype more prevalent than in the popular portrayals of college. Whether you're watching a college movie (from Animal House to Old School) or reading a college book (think I am Charlotte Simmons), you're bombarded with the idea that the undergraduate experience is a Bacchanalian feast with Satan as your hedonistic, hand-holding tour guide.
While such is the case for some students-even at an upstanding institution like Duke (wrestling in baby oil, anyone?)-this moral dichotomization leaves no middle ground, pushing both sides towards the extreme ends of the spectrum.
Popular depictions of college often show the innocent freshmen succumbing to the carnal corruption, supposedly the core of the undergraduate experience. As with any dichotomy, however, the lack of a middle ground renders the two extremes the only options. Those who don't succumb can go toward the other extreme.
Such polarization makes the more "pure" crowd feel like their wholesome, uncorrupted souls could be consumed any minute by the alcohol-fueled whirlpool of sexual endeavors. Oh, they know it's a slippery slope from dancing innocently at Shooters to waking up blindfolded and handcuffed to a pair of midgets after a blurry night of calling God's name in an entirely new context.
Jokes aside, the observation is a serious one. Freshman year in Brown (the substance-free dorm), I had a front-row seat to this mentality in action. I can't speak for everyone, but, from my own personal experience, many students left that dorm more religious and more conservative than when they arrived.
While I pass no judgment on either side, I do think that both are grossly mistaken. Social scientists even have a name for such a mistake: pluralistic ignorance. It's the idea that individuals commonly overestimate how much their peers indulge in sex or alcohol. Since they perceive the communal norms to be higher then their own, they can feel an expectation to go further and do more than they normally would.
I would argue that this idea swings both ways, because the "righteous" students can fall pray to the same pressures. If the societal stereotypes to choose from are sinful, go-all-out "whores," those rejecting this role can get sucked into the other extreme-the pure, substance-free "virgins."
But aren't they both conforming to peer pressure, and therefore, aren't they both missing out? The virginal camp doesn't even call it conformity-instead, they see it as being "saved" from the sinful temptations of college life. Similarly, the faster, looser types don't see indulgence as conforming-rather, they're living it up while they're still young.
Is either side right? That's in the eye of the beholder. What is certain is the danger of having such a bipolar structure. Students-especially freshmen-can assume that they must go with one of the two crowds. There is no telling what experiences they might miss out on if they do not realize that a middle ground exists.
Where's the fun in boxing yourself into either category? You can have fun on the fence, or, dare I say, even play both sides until you make up your mind.
Emin Hadziosmanovic is Trinity senior. His column runs every other Tuesday.
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