Dissecting Trinity’s Party Scene
February 6, 2008
Jolene Hildebrand
The day before Ash Wednesday is Mardi Gras. Coincidence? Hardly. It’s not surprising that prior to the month of religious fasting one decadent festival was the final chance to indulge in as much pleasure as possible: an indication of the fascinating relationship between religion and celebration. This is what inspired the Mars’ Hill issue on partying - the fact that people always have and always will party. What is particular at Trinity Western University, however, is that the concept of partying comes with some very distinct expectations.
I’m guessing that most people have a typical idea of what a party looks like. It’s often the same sort of concept wherever one goes - crowds, music, dancing, the presence of alcohol and maybe some of the other, more illicit, partying materials. As for Trinity, there’s no way a person can escape at least a minimal awareness that the same sort of scene goes on here. What is unique is that unlike other campuses where students can openly admit their excruciating hangovers to their RA’s, Trinity students whisper about the mug of beer they shared with their friends at the pub the other night.
So in a climate that would rather assault students with community than suggest it, the process of putting together an issue that deals with partying made it evident that moderation can be hard to come by. Even after explaining to interviewees that the definition of partying could include a variety of things, most of them considered the general idea of a party to involve alcohol, drugs, smoking or other community standard-breaking activities - not exactly your typical board-game and movie night.
Perhaps partying is a little vague because everyone has their own ideas of what they consider to be a party as opposed simply socializing. But one thing is clear: people party at Trinity just like they do in any other school.
Some students feel the need to put up a false front at school, trading one shadowy identity from weekends and evenings for an acceptable Trinity one. Sometimes they relish in the feelings of risk and rebellion as they sneak off campus for a night in the clubs, or cautiously whisper about the person who stumbled drunkenly to their dorm room last night. If we do end up severely hung over in one of our morning classes, we think the only ones to notice the truth of the situation have shared the same experience.
Any large gathering of young adults in the current perceived state of the university - one that glamourizes partying through ranking schools based on their licentious and illicit activities - is bound to contain sub-cultures that experiment in reckless behaviour. A university is perhaps the unhealthiest environment for young adults, and yet it’s one of the few places where we should expect the development of adults. So how do we expect students to deal with unhealthy partying maturely if they are not allowed to talk about it in the open? It’s as if we expect students to wear a mask of conformity as an acceptable method of covering up issues they’re not comfortable discussing.
It makes sense for a Christian university to expect a healthy campus environment, but what’s unhealthy is promoting a dichotomy of behaviour that limits and excludes discussions promoting maturity and moderation. When we consider what it means to develop healthy relationships of integrity, suspicion and secrecy should not stand in the way of dialogue.
Now you go...
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