This is a first. Will Grannan sent me his observations via Facebook message. He brings up some very good points about the current state of Wabash. Please read and discuss…
Hi, Hugh!
I always enjoy your missives, and you are certainly a locus of information about all things Wabash, so I wanted to bounce some observations and impressions off you.
I went to the College for the first time in eight years yesterday. My first impression was of all the recent capital improvement that has transpired. While there’s a little less architectural uniformity, I know in 20 years there’s going to be a patina of familiarity and consistency that eases that jolt. I wish I’d had time for a full and thorough exploration particularly of the MXI and Lilly Religion Teaching buildings.
On the walk to the stadium I overheard a conversation that I found very instructive. A couple of DePauw girls (in “cute” outfits, young enough that I could have fathered them–Egad!) were saying: “What I think is funny is how much energy they put into hating us.” “Yeah, and we just don’t even care about hating them.” So exactly why had you bothered to make the drive, sister? I wonder what it is like to have no attachment to a thing bigger than your own little belly button. Would we be happier if we just didn’t care? Would we have more fun? It’s exactly what I dislike about Dannies: they aren’t engaged.
The game: boy, the Little Giants stunk it up. Couldn’t get a thing going; couldn’t buy a piece of luck; couldn’t stiffen up fast enough. They just sliced up the backfield on offense, while we couldn’t get a ball to go where it needed to be. The team gave a respectable performance, but they sure didn’t look like champions on November 15th. Which leads me to my central point…
It seems to me that the Monon Bell Classic is a ceremony outside the regular football campaign. We’ve all experienced seasons vindicated by a Bell win, and successful years without that trophy seem hollow. I think the game has spiritual overtones, and Wabash’s execution depends upon our spiritual fitness. I didn’t see much evidence of the ol’ Little Giant Caveman attitude. Our stands were muted (no cacophonous pep band, no packs of rhynes trying to out-cheer the next bunch), just a lot of cold dudes squinting into the wind [I forgot how the wind feels blowing from across the Great Plains without geographic interruption]. The team was tense, not like a bowstring, but like an accountant in need of a footrub. I saw a lot of purple armbands and Delta Tau Delta paraphernalia. Three separate students told me that the campus was angry and alienated; I had a chat with a senior at the TKE house where he expressed mistrust of the administration, a sense that that the college had his money and no longer cared what he thought of them.
Steve Webb wrote an eloquent letter to the Bachelor about virtue, trust, and the Gentleman’s Rule. I think that trust has broken down at Wabash because there is no transparency, no communication of shared mission, no assumption of mutual respect. In such an environment, the Gentleman’s Rule can’t exist. The sole arbiter of gentlemanly behavior is acting without explaining.
It may be that we are seeing this first stirrings of the end of Greek letter organizations at Wabash. When we were in school, we settled the issue of admitting women. We did it while giving all sides a voice, and even those who were unhappy with the choice knew they had been heard, and could weigh their values and judgment against their love of Wabash College. Now fraternities know they can be summarily closed by a star-chamber court, privacy concerns cited as a reason for silence, and a claim that the action is in the best interests of the College.
It’s happened, and can happen again, and you are not safe.In that sense, now we’re all Delts.
