When I meet someone new at Gustavus, I am usually asked a rather unconventional question: “Why Gustavus?”
This question is asked in a very similar way to: “Where are you from?”
It’s asked with intrigue, with shiny eyes, hungry for information.
At times, the air of the person on campus asking this Gustavus question, is aligned with the emotive response to my answer to where are you from: “No, where are you really from?”
So with this context, the question: “Why Gustavus?” becomes “no, why did you choose Gustavus?”
I truly do not know the true reason behind the “why Gustavus,” or its origin here on campus.
It happens often, and has been asked periodically since my first arrival on the hill two years ago.
I could be asked this question because I am an out of state student from Florida.
Perhaps the question is more similar to: “Why Minnesota?”
It may stem from the thought of, “it snows here and you chose the cold over beaches and warm weather.”
I cannot deny this to be true from many seeking an answer to what I call the Gustavus question.
Yet more often than not, it is not the case.
Context is what proves validity to statements.
Our student culture, and the college itself, should push for a more “academic” liberal arts college in its image.
I say “academic” in the way certain New England Colleges are perceived to be “academic.”
Sometimes the Gustavus question is asked after judging my competitive intellectual abilities.
I thank those students for the positive encouragement, but since being at Gustavus, I have met equally brilliant, innovative, and intelligent students who competitively rival the preconceived intelligence of students from certain New England colleges.
Yet more often than not, we hide our excellence, choosing to embrace an “underdog” mentality.
In the context of academia, the Gustavus question is out of place.
A liberal arts college should be competitive enough to have students from all states across the country, and from countries of the world; because it offers superior opportunities of career and intellectual growth.
If one takes the Gustavus question to be a reflection of “why Gustavus” and not why another institution of higher learning, then Gustavus must quickly change this false perception before it’s too late.
As I quickly wind down the tunnel toward graduation, I want to address the ugly head of the Gustavus question.
Similarly to the question (Where are you really from?) that is asked to Americans who do not fit the traditionally physical characteristics of the defined concept of “white,” the Gustavus question becomes a reflection of this question in our campus culture.
As a Latina, I find this question, more often than not, to be nerving.
The Gustavus question and its origins are unknown, but when asked, it leaves behind a bitter feeling.
The sentiments left from the sting of the nature of the Gustavus question, creates a designation of “other” on one’s forehead, a sentiment of not belonging to whom it is asked of.
Gustavus makes efforts to be “inclusive.”
Yet in attempt to do so, the college creates separatism and tribes of guilt and bias by targeting people of color, in its academic oversimplification, as oppressed entities, as exotic, as problematic, as different, as the other.
Philosophers such as Georg Hegel apply Otherness, simply put, as the concept of the Self which requires a counterpart entity, that defines the Self, and as the state of being alien to the identity given by society to a person and to the identity of the Self. Otherness is a tool of societal oppression.
The Gustavus question, in its very nature, is a reflection and tool of applying Otherness to many first year students on the hill.
With Commencement around the corner, I’ve often thought about what the most important part of my Gustavus experience was.
My professors approachable, helpful.
The studies I have endeavored, facilitated by them, have been at times intensive and even life changing.
I enjoyed the walks in the arb, the beauty of the campus, attending Model United Nations Conferences.
I am thankful for my friends who I debate politics, economics, or simply lay out in the grass with a book in our hands.
I will miss golf and badminton after classes, and conveniently having food from the buffet.
I will miss being surrounded by individuals of my age group.
Yet, when I think of what the most important part of my Gustavus experience was, I think of my story, of academic challenges, of navigating otherness, of overcoming.
So instead of asking someone “Why Gustavus?” instead of perhaps indirectly perpetuating this feeling of being an other, why not ask your fellow Gustie, “What’s your story?”
You might hear something new and meaningful.
You might find more commonalities then not, and you might find a story that can have the power to influence your life.