by Clara R. Riggio
I’ve been spending a lot of time walking around campus lately, probably making up for the time I lost to the virus. I’ve also been reading a healthy serving of Joan Didion and her style of writing has influenced my own voice and the ways that I’ve been viewing the world. Slouching Towards Bethlehem has been reminding me so much of Evergreen and what it was meant to be (and often still is). I decided to tackle Didion’s style to paint you a picture of Evergreen, the way it’s meant to be.
It’s easy to judge The Evergreen State College from the outside. Though small and hidden by a forest of trees, it has a reputation across the country as one of the blueprints for experimental college education. It has a reputation for quite a few other things: marijuana use, “environmental terrorism & homos”, and the infamous 2017 incident that left the nation accusing Evergreen students of “reverse racism”, whatever that means. Hanging around campus, it may not always seem like the place of hippie dreams and acid trips, but those who wander through the woods or into the off-campus residences of students and alumni may find the rumors to be true.
Red Square marks the center of campus and is typically a place of gathering. The birthplace of slacklining and the site of many a protest, the Square is welcoming despite its ever-broken clock tower that no longer provides the same appeal it used to. Olympia time is said to be a few minutes slower, but Evergreen is decades slower in its areas of advancement. What was once a staunch competitor, despite its unique differences, has become an outdated relic of college as it was. Though its community attempts to keep it alive, the school (and its students) are in desperate need of some TLC.
Parties are not a common occurrence on campus. Thanks to the patrolling police services and the strictness of housing rules, students are left to their own devices and forced to seek solace elsewhere. Some parties take place in woodland clearings and consist of fires and a slowness that is distinctively Olympian. Many “show houses” off-campus combine the Evergreen nightlife with that of Olympia proper. College students are seen mingling with much older Evergreen alumni, still in Olympia and still soaking up the richness and individuality this place holds. These often occur in the basements of houses and consist of live music and a licensed mixologist who runs a bar out of one of the side rooms. Regardless of where it is located, there is lots of smoking, dancing, and an overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation for this place.
Being at Evergreen is understanding this place’s relationship to identity. Though most college students seem to embark on the “finding myself” rite of passage, Evergreen does so in a way that pushes the usual boundaries. Many of my conversations during my time here have been about (even if not explicitly) vulnerability. Asking for help, disclosing personal histories that inform our modern experiences, and expressing confusion are almost everyday occurrences in and out of class.
An anecdote about Evergreen’s eccentricity that often comes to mind is an alumni’s account about an event she organized on campus (this particular alumni happens to be a current faculty member and fellow lover of Evergreen history). Ominous signs began popping up on campus. “Spring is coming, men take heed”. According to more than a few women on campus, the Evergreen men weren’t up to their standards. Nobody had asked them on dates and the men on campus can’t be described as particularly charming. The ladies then set up a kissing booth and profited off of the untapped market of the sexually stunted.
Once, while in the library doing research, I was approached by a student who had made it his project to run around and talk to people about ways Evergreen could be improved. His optimism shocked me and the way he could approach a staff member and casually strike up conversation was refreshing. He was also the person who introduced me to the previously annual tradition of Super Saturday. The one-day festival was the largest of its kind in Washington state and occurred every June on Evergreen’s campus for about 30 years. This shindig created an environment of appreciation and celebration for everything that Evergreen was. It was also a bridge to fill the gap between Evergreen and the rest of Olympia. It’s another thing that the school has unfortunately lost and might be an important relic to unearth.
These examples of radical enjoyment is what I believe Evergreen was founded on. This is the type of thing the school is best at. Though many of our expressions of radical enjoyment have been hindered by the ongoing pandemic and the challenges we have experienced because of it, they still exist. When students gather in the woods to engage in a makeshift haunted house or play movies on the TV in the HCC or run around the field on a cold foggy night, they are experiencing those inklings of appreciation that this place encourages us to act on.
Evergreen the Place is very different from Evergreen the Establishment. They are not two sides of the same coin, they are entirely different forms of currency. The Place has existed long before the individuals on it were put into deciding power for the College. The Place has continued to be the drawing force behind student enrollment, not the Establishment or the people who uphold it. Once we can separate the two, radical enjoyment may feel more possible. Administration is merely a cohabitant in this place, albeit a daunting and controlling one that does, indeed, affect our lives, but not as all-encompassing and life-ruining as we sometimes make it out to be.
I encourage you Greeners who seek the solace of this place to surround yourself with those who also seek to harness the love this place provides us. Whether it is on-campus, off-campus in a dingy basement, or in an Olympia coffee shop, it is still Evergreen. It is still the Evergreen experience and the thing that makes this place so magical. Enjoy it while it’s still here and try not to dwell on the fact that it might not always be. All good things come to an end.
