200 years and counting.
Apr. 13th, 2002 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mangosteenSo, there's this student group at Columbia University called the Philolexian Society (Philo for short). It's the oldest student group on campus, tipping the scales at 200 years old. The best short description I could find is "a literary society, with an emphasis on debate and drinking." Before fraternal organizations existed at Columbia, there was Philo. This means that I was part of a very old student organization at an Ivy League school. in which a non-trivial amount of movers and shakers in the US were also members in years past. I feel so.... white.
In any event, there was a formal dinner honoring the bicentennial of Philo at the University on Thursday night. Black tie and everything. I actually look pretty good in a tuxedo. It was essentially a seven-year college reunion, but with a much lower chance of having to do the standard vapid Q&A that one has to do when there's no context for interaction over the past seven years. Many interesting people got up to speak, one of them mentioning the two things below:
Assertion: In order for a tradition to survive over time, it must not only be repeated, but renewed.
Assertion: People tend to disagree about pretty much everything, unless they're completely uninterested in the topic at hand.
I think the thing I remember most was the toast:
"Hold fast to the spirit of youth. Let years come and do what they may."
(There are probably extra prepositions in there, but I've seen several different sources, and it doesn't really matter. See Assertion #1.)
The feeling I got while saying that while raising my glass with ninety other people was almost magical. It made me feel like I could take on the world, do something incredible, and change the course of history. Furthermore, I could do it with one hand tied behind my back, and still be home in time for dinner. It was the feeling that I was part of an intellectual elite, and that I could make things happen by dint of being intelligent, clever, insightful, and witty enough to do what needed to be done.
In other words, the feeling I got at the University as an undergraduate, before reality slapped some sense into me. However, it isn't a false feeling; it's just Not Enough. There's also drive, motivation, ambition, persistence, focus, and so on. The things that can't easily be exhorted in a toast at an elegant formal dinner. One other thing to say about that magic though; it's the magic that the University capitalizes on for alumni donations. It's that momentary feeling of youthful optimism and pride that causes people to loosen their purse strings and give to their alma mater. It's pretty ghoulish, but not surprising. People have capitalized on the re-capturing of youth for millenia.
I guess the point of this all is that it was nice to reconnect, on several levels. Unlike most reunion events, I didn't feel like I was getting older, doing a review of generic life events with people. Rather, it felt like a renewing of vows to "Go out into the world and do something interesting." It made me very happy.
In any event, there was a formal dinner honoring the bicentennial of Philo at the University on Thursday night. Black tie and everything. I actually look pretty good in a tuxedo. It was essentially a seven-year college reunion, but with a much lower chance of having to do the standard vapid Q&A that one has to do when there's no context for interaction over the past seven years. Many interesting people got up to speak, one of them mentioning the two things below:
Assertion: In order for a tradition to survive over time, it must not only be repeated, but renewed.
Assertion: People tend to disagree about pretty much everything, unless they're completely uninterested in the topic at hand.
I think the thing I remember most was the toast:
"Hold fast to the spirit of youth. Let years come and do what they may."
(There are probably extra prepositions in there, but I've seen several different sources, and it doesn't really matter. See Assertion #1.)
The feeling I got while saying that while raising my glass with ninety other people was almost magical. It made me feel like I could take on the world, do something incredible, and change the course of history. Furthermore, I could do it with one hand tied behind my back, and still be home in time for dinner. It was the feeling that I was part of an intellectual elite, and that I could make things happen by dint of being intelligent, clever, insightful, and witty enough to do what needed to be done.
In other words, the feeling I got at the University as an undergraduate, before reality slapped some sense into me. However, it isn't a false feeling; it's just Not Enough. There's also drive, motivation, ambition, persistence, focus, and so on. The things that can't easily be exhorted in a toast at an elegant formal dinner. One other thing to say about that magic though; it's the magic that the University capitalizes on for alumni donations. It's that momentary feeling of youthful optimism and pride that causes people to loosen their purse strings and give to their alma mater. It's pretty ghoulish, but not surprising. People have capitalized on the re-capturing of youth for millenia.
I guess the point of this all is that it was nice to reconnect, on several levels. Unlike most reunion events, I didn't feel like I was getting older, doing a review of generic life events with people. Rather, it felt like a renewing of vows to "Go out into the world and do something interesting." It made me very happy.
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Philo is your family
Date: 2003-01-05 08:53 am (UTC)On university donations, it's the magic that the alumni offices usually fail to capture when asking for donations. If you are reading this and you went to a university, don't forget to give them some money, even if you have fresh memories of being vapidly mistreated by the administration. That goes double (possibly triple) if you went to Columbia. It may seem like they have a lot, but it's spread thinly.