Written by 8:13 pm Opinions • 10 Comments

Nothing Happened in the Alice Johnson Room

Accessory to the crime. Photo from web.


I was expecting a judge on a high podium, or a jury of my peers, or at least some gavel banging. What I saw, as I poked my head in the door of the Alice Johnson room, was a table manned by two kids I’d seen in Harris and at parties and a woman I didn’t recognize. Across from them was a table reserved for the accused party with three places set with identical laminated Honor Code cards.

As I sat waiting for my accomplices, I thought about the crime that had landed me before three pairs of eyes, measuring me from across the table. The case report describes how the security officers found us, “creating music with guitars and a drum set…The three students were found in possession of six unopened cans of Narragansett Beer (from an opened 18 pack) and admitted that they were drinking…The three students complied with the orders given to empty the six cans of beer. The students were asked to end their music practice for the night, and the building was secured.”

In e-mailed statements submitted to the Judicial Board we explained ourselves: the box had not been full when we brought it there, one of us had not, in fact, been drinking, the other two (myself included) had consumed two to three beers over the course of two hours. As a freshman, I didn’t know what to expect in terms of repercussions. When I didn’t receive a response to my e-mail for about a month, I assumed that the ridiculousness of the charges had caused them to be dropped. Then, just before Thanksgiving break, we were summoned to an Adjudication Team hearing.

It was kind of funny up until this point. Okay, J-Board, I’ll write you guys a remorseful confession begging you to forgive me for the two beers that I consumed. I’ll take whatever slap on the wrist you deem necessary to punish me for this blatant violation of the honor code. But telling me that the names of “my witnesses,” if any, must be submitted “at least twenty-four hours in advance of the hearing” makes it pretty hard for me to take you seriously. Especially when, the night after my run-in with Campus Safety, I saw the same officers confront some considerably more intoxicated students outside of a dorm and ask them to pour out their beers without writing them up.

In preparation for the hearing, we were required to prepare “a brief statement (it must be typed, double-spaced, and preferably no longer than one page) in response to the alleged infractions” and advised to “be knowledgeable of the contents of the Student Handbook located on CamelWeb.” After my accomplices arrived in the Alice Johnson room and took their seats next to me, a tape recorder was switched on and our statements were read aloud by one of the kids across the table. Next we were asked to read the honor code cards before us out loud.

“In unison?” one of my tablemates asked.

“Sure,” said the boy across the table.

Together we pledged to uphold the honor and integrity of our school, as well as our own beliefs, and respect the community that we are so proud to be a part of. After a brief period of questioning and disapproving glares, the hearing concluded.

“Until a verdict is reached, you are not permitted to speak to anyone about this hearing,” we were warned. “You may not mention what was said or who you saw here. Nothing happened this morning in this conference room.”

As we stood to leave, one of my fellow delinquents, who was written up four days before his twenty-first birthday, couldn’t help but remark, “You know, this is straight out of Dante’s Inferno. The cards? In hell, in Dante’s Inferno, there are scenes carved into the ground so that as the sinners walk through they look down and are forced to contemplate their sins.”

The Adjudication team was not amused by this parallel.

I understand that my actions were illegal but I don’t feel that they were irresponsible. If I am going to be judged by a panel (mostly of kids about my age) instead of the law, I would expect a little more thought and understanding to go into my punishment. The card I received from the Choices workshop (which I was sanctioned to attend as punishment) tells me that consuming two drinks in two hours keeps me in “the green zone” of dangerous alcohol consumption (the blue zone corresponds to Thursday night shenanigans and the red zone is near death). My age and circumstances afford me the privilege of living in a bubble where my actions are not punished by law. However, I’m ready to start being treated like an adult. To me, that means evaluating the gravity of my infraction before churning me through a judicial system that lands me in a workshop that ends up telling me that the “choices” that put me there were exactly the kind that would be expected of a responsible adult.

I understand that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I also understand that I’m not the first person to complain about the judicial process and that it is currently being revised. I hope that the changes made will help to foster the spirit of mutual respect and integrity that our school is based upon rather than perpetuate a hypocritical, overly dramatic system that inspires more snide literary comparisons than it does respect.

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