Tuesday, March 20, 2007
This particular school got a lot of negative press in the local paper in the mid-80s for its aggressive fund-raising tactics. I know that I was called on a regular basis with pleas for contributions.
In my sophomore year there, I briefly dated a psycho girl who, like all the women I have been involved with (whatever that means), had a few problems. She dropped out after a few months; she didn't feel welcomed there. She was working-class, like me, and she sensed that the other students looked down on her for this.
If I was the recipient of any class-based hauteur, I was oblivious to it. But I didn't belong. I just went to classes, to chapel, and then to my various jobs about town.
And I never contributed money to them.
I had a few professors there that I remembered, and liked. One had a major influence on me, though no one would suspect it. He passed away in the late '80s from cancer. He was a curmudgeon and a misogynist and most probably a racist. But I learn even from those that I do not agree with. Another was a brilliant Hebrew scholar whose lectures I often think of even today. But the *school,* itself, I did not care for, nor do I care for it today.
There is something about organizations that give me claustrophobia. There is ever the anarchist in me. Organizations are unavoidable in our current culture, and I have been trapped in them all of my life. But I always make sure that I know where the exit sign is.