RKSK Initiation: you all know what I’m talking about. Some of you love it, some of you hate it, probably a lot of you don’t really think too hard about it. Many of you have concerns, and I’ll be the first to agree that they are all valid. I have gathered, though, that there are some not-uncommon misconceptions about the event—its purpose and what actually goes on—and I’d like to clear up some of those.
One of the concerns expressed at the Senate forum that struck me most was along these lines: what the purpose is of continuing to hold the event if we have to make so many changes and impose restrictions? Aren’t we deviating from the “original” purpose of the event? Aren’t we continuing just for the purpose of continuing a tradition?What are we trying to “prove” to Lewis and Clark?
For one thing, the point of trekking across the river is not, as some seem to believe, to “shock” Clarkies, or to “highlight cultural differences.” This isn’t about rivalry or about proving anything to the Clarkies. For one thing, they aren’t “shocked.” They know we’re coming, they line up waiting for us outside and inside their library to give us high-fives (or presumably leave if they’re not into it), some of them even join us in running naked through their library, and one gave us a mini-tour as we waited for our ride home to show up. We gift them with warm and fuzzy stuffed friends. We’ve had complaints from Lewis and Clark, sure, but as far as I know, they have been entirely from their administration/community safety (who offered as their reason for opposing us coming only that we were violating a Portland ordinance disallowing nudity). Their student body president (apparently) said that Initiation is not even a “thing” for their students, and that he was entirely unconcerned with the event as a whole.
In response to the idea of deviating from the spirit of the original event, all I have to say is this: our community is constantly changing and growing in response to raised concerns and to increased awareness of the possible implications of what we do, and I would argue not only that just about every facet of this institution changes to reflect that growth, but also that much of that growth is a result of changes that take place in individual facets of the community. What would be the good in having a recurring event that is completely out of date compared to the rest of the community?
People have all different kinds of reasons for caring for the tradition. I can tell you mine—solidarity, freedom of expression, uniting in what is for many people a vulnerable context and experiencing an overwhelming show of ubiquitous acceptance, plus this weird sort of kinship we have with the Clarkies that is expressed in a totally unique way—but ask any other initiate and I’m sure you will get a myriad of different answers. What I can say quite confidently is that a lot of people get super excited for this event, many have strong positive, personal feelings about it, and a lot of people have a crazy, fun time. I think that’s a more than sufficient reason to put in the effort to keep the tradition alive, even if it takes more effort than some would care to put in.
A tricky factor to take into account this year in particular has been the current troubles we’ve been having with L&C students on our campus. Is there a double standard here—we get upset with their loud presence on our campus, and then we go run a crazy event on theirs? No—I would argue that this instance of our presence in their space is a very different creature. Just as our administration tries to set an example to L&C on how to deal moderately with concerns about visitors (compare our sending them to their disciplinary system after assaulting our students to their threats to call the police if we so much as showed up), by conducting this excursion honorably, we can also set examples to the students of how visits can be conducted in a non-destructive manner, while still being a little bit crazy.
There is another aspect of this years event that I feel should be addressed. Some of you may have heard about the hiccup in the implementation of our plans; many of you probably haven’t.
A brief summary of the events of the evening: Quad-gathering (all went smoothly; hammer and sickle spray-painting and readings from the Manifesto), march to the library (fleeing as we were bombarded with water balloons, courtesy of the ©apitalist faction), library run (the library remains a silent/sacred space, of course; patrons are made aware of RKSK’s presence ahead of time), human pyramid in the Grove (no injuries! go us!), mass exodus to the U-Haul (notes to follow), a slightly harrowing ride with 71 freshmen across the river (by and large incident-free), a run around the library (no dorms), and a safe return home.
The hiccup occurred as the U-Haul was making its way to our loading point. A rogue upperclassmen took it upon himself to attempt to sabotage our trip across the river by attempting to padlock the U-Haul shut in order to prevent humans from entering, and, after failing in that attempt, by entering the cab of the U-Haul as the driver was helping people into the back, pulling the keys from the ignition, and riding off with them on his bike. Austin proceeded to call one of our dedicated organizers and deliver a message regarding the consent of the freshmen: apparently the freshmen were unable to consent to attending the voyage to Lewis & Clark. After some negotiation, he stated that if we told the freshmen exactly what we were going to do and that they were not obligated to participate—note that we had already done the latter, and that (you will have to take my word for it) the freshmen made it quite clear that they were aware of what they were getting into—he would bring back the keys. We did as we were told, but then—the consent of all of the freshmen was supposedly invalidated because the fact that no one left indicated that it was a “hostile environment.” (Note that the number of students involved with the on-campus portion of the event was much larger than the number who decided to join us at L&C, and that even after the initial boarding of the U-Haul, multiple individuals decided to leave, with full, very vocal support of many participants.)
I think that Austin’s actions were dishonorable in many ways, but there are two that especially irk me.
First: as most of you are probably not aware, similar interference was run last year. The U-Haul was padlocked by the same individual, though in that case as well, the organizers effectively worked around that inconvenience. Austin has—apparently—been concerned about this for at least a year. And he had at least a year to talk to someone—anyone involved with RKSK—about his concerns, and he neglected to do that. (Well, he initially offered to drive the U-Haul, but we turned him down in favor of another, more qualified volunteer, because let’s be real, that offer looks kinda sketch.) Austin expressed later that he “didn’t realize” that we had put in a lot of effort to run the event in an improved fashion, and that he “wish[ed] we had had a chance to talked about that”. That one’s on you, buddy. Plenty of people approached me—students and administrators—with concerns, and many discussions proceeded (in my humble opinion) honorably. I addressed people in person and in an open discussion at the Senate meeting. I have been more than happy and willing to hear and take into account the concerns of anyone who cares to voice them—as I care a lot about continuing this tradition, I care a lot as well about running the event in ways that are not harmful (either to those immediately involved or those who observe) and that are ultimately as responsible and as honorable as possible. We want everyone to be comfortable and safe and to have their concerns heard and accounted for, and have made extensive efforts to make ourselves available for those conversations. You had no contact with us about how we’re dealing with the things you’re concerned about, and you regret it? Sorry, but that one’s on you, buddy.
Second: let’s talk about consent. I think we can all agree that consent is a tricky issue. This is especially true when substances are involved, and it’s true that many of the freshmen were obviously intoxicated at the time of departure. However, that does not mean that we get to dictate what other people can or cannot consent to. Let me say that again: You. Cannot. Dictate. Anyone. Else’s. Consent. No one in their right mind would argue that someone can tell someone else that they are consenting when they claim that they are not, so why should we be able to do the opposite? I’m not saying that consent isn’t a relevant issue in a situation of this kind. It totally is. It’s important to have discussions about consent, and totally reasonable to voice concerns if you think things are happening that may cause harm—but the keyword here is discussions. Here, there was no discussion; there was an outright claim that 71+ individuals do not have the ability or the right to decide for themselves whether or not they are consenting to a thing. The correct way to deal with questioning someone’s ability to make decisions for themselves is not to remove any and all ability to decide by making the decision for them.
All right, I’m off the soap box.
A final note: I am lucky to have received a lot of support in light of the difficulties inherent in the process of organizing this event, both regarding the fairly insane amount of planning and considerations regarding how to run this event honorably, and in dealing with the U-Haul snafu. I won’t lie—it’s been rough, before and after. One thing in particular stuck with me, though: a lovely friend and signating veteran, Julia Selker, counseled later that evening, “If I’ve learned anything from all of the random shit I’ve done in 3 years here it’s that someone will always shit on what you worked really hard to make, and it’s just a matter of remembering how many people had fun.”