Disconnected. That’s what I saw when I looked out over the crowds of High Fest this weekend.
Now, before I say anything more, let me note that I indeed took part in the festivities, drinking bottles of liquor and cheap beer throughout the daytime, passing out by 9 p.m. only to wake back up and be in the bars by 11.
It was a marathon that I took part in willingly, despite the fact that I had research to do for an upcoming paper that is important to my future. How important? Let’s just say this class will decide whether I get off academic probation and will be able to continue my academic career.
Yet there I was, standing in the masses of awkwardly or — dare I say, ironically — dressed youth sloshing around the sidewalks and yards of people’s houses, who I have never met. You see, there’s an already-laid-out template for “festing” at Ohio University, and although everyone has their own version, there seems to be three simple requirements.
One: You consume as many intoxicants as possible to get you to your limit of losing all social anxiety, when telling random girls you love them seems totally OK.
Two: Dressing like you want to party, whether that is neon practice jerseys, cheap plastic glasses, or short men’s shorts with huge boots. The key here is to make it known that you don’t take anything seriously — at least at that particular time — while remaining just under the radar enough not to attract unwanted attention.
And finally, to forget about outside pressures, if just for that moment in time. To thoroughly enjoy youthfulness and the bubble that is Athens. During an OU fest, participants don’t think about their lack of job opportunities, their masses of crippling student loan debt, or looming conflicts with North Korea and global climate change that proliferate the news.
No, during these celebrations of irrationality and inhibition, many a student has very miniscule worries in comparison to the rest of the nation; avoiding undercovers and trying not to get the spins are basic, easy, and allow the mind to push out more serious concerns. “Festers” are a product of this society that is rampantly run by corrupt governments, media outlets and an economy in the dumps for most of our adult lives.
Say someone comes to America for the first time tomorrow and had to learn everything about this great nation from CNN or Fox News. Would he or she not get a sense of hopelessness and helplessness that would make drinking until he or she blacked out seem like a viable option?
I suppose the argument I am attempting to make here is the following: Those older citizens from generations before ours who are appalled and concerned with this youth’s seemingly belligerent behavior and ongoing love affair with intoxicants, put yourself in our shoes. Most of us may have been born during the boom of the 1990s, but we came of age during the bust of the late 2000s. We did not create many of the problems that make us feel that we need to shed some worries and get wasted.
The popular culture reflects this, new movies such as 21 and Over, The Hangover and Project X are exact reflections of how the newest youth will be thought of. Songs like “We are Young” reinforce the idea that the real world is desolate, decadent and full of despair, and the only way to happiness is through modes of self-medication and rash binders of irresponsibility.
I am not blaming anyone other than myself. I know it isn’t the correct way to deal with those issues, I know there were times long before me when there were problems more severe. I am just making an observation of something I don’t understand, and I feel that many others don’t either. Where the future will take us ... Who knows? I just know how I feel, and that is that on a few great weekends in spring, I and thousands like me get to forget about what we are doing and stick it to the status quo. Whether that’s a virtuous thing or not, I cannot comment on.
Rick McCorkle is a senior studying history at Ohio University.
