“Classic Conn.”
Those were the words spoken to me by a friend shortly after the abrupt end of the Fall Weekend tent dance last weekend.
After a great day of celebration by parents, trustees and alumni, the school, in conjunction with Student Activities, had scheduled a party for current students. Everyone was hyped.
Scheduled to begin playing at midnight and end at 2 a.m., we went on at 12:45. We’d been kicked off by 1 a.m. Students and alumni had been slow to make their way to the tent in the beginning of the night and the band performing before us, Bear Mountain, wanted time to do a few more songs. When asked if I wouldn’t mind cutting Arizona Beach Club’s set down to an hour and a half, I said of course. Bear Mountain killed it and by the end of their set, the crowd was throbbing, eagerly anticipating our much advertised set. When we finally made it on stage, the crowd erupted in cheers. The night just seemed to be getting better and better. Everyone was having a great time.
It’s always taken a few minutes to feel out a crowd when DJing. In this case, everyone was already pumped up from Bear Mountain’s set, so we decided to scratch some of our downbeat songs in exchange for some upbeat ones. People were digging the songs we were playing and enjoying a night that seemed to be going smoothly thus far. At around 12:57 a.m., a campus safety officer came on stage and approached our tables.
“You’ve got till one.”
Chazz and I exchanged a look; maybe this guy had been misinformed.
“No, no, no, we’re scheduled to go to two” Chazz told him.
He shook his head. “This ends at one.” With that, he walked away.
Skipping past our own feelings of defeat, questions immediately surfaced. Why were we ending an hour early? Had there been a change in the schedule? Who had decided to shut the event down? Why hadn’t we been told earlier? No one volunteered any explanations.
With that crushing blow, we went back to our tables, determined to at least go out with a bang. We took out all the beach balls we’d been saving for later in the night and tossed them into the crowd. We played until the guys in the sound box cut off our volume.
When the music died, people were baffled. Like us, they thought the event was supposed to go on for at least another hour.
So, standing outside of Cro at two in the morning, trying to make sense of what had happened, those familiar words were spoken by a friend as she attempted to sum up the problem: “Classic Conn.” The expression has come to characterize those times when the Administration has failed to create an engaging and active social life on campus. One such usage might be: “This Cro dance reminds me of my middle school prom…Classic Conn.” I don’t need to run the gamut of usages…if you’re reading this, you’ve probably used the expression yourself or heard someone else use it.
Aside from this being a story of personal defeat, of winning a competition and having the reward ripped from our hands, I see a larger issue at play: how the school communicates with its student body about social life. The Tent Dance shutdown highlights the disconnect between the students and the Administration.
That disconnect was apparent that night. Google: “college party shut down” and some of the first results show examples around the country of college students turning violent. At our own event, after the sound was turned off, someone threw a glass bottle on stage. It managed not to hit anything, but having glass thrown in your general direction is enough to make anyone a little nervous. The way Campus Safety went about shutting down Tent Dance was dangerous. There are, in fact, better ways to terminate an event without causing chaos. An announcement can be made offering a clear explanation or the performers can be given the opportunity to wind things down.
One week out and still, no one has told me the reason for Tent Dance being shut down. The Administration at this school needs to show its student body that they’re willing to engage in a conversation about holding social events. If noise is a problem after a certain time, then let’s talk about that. Maybe the whole tent party could have started an hour earlier. Maybe there are ways to mitigate the noise, or to discuss with college neighbors. People routinely come up to me and ask, “What happened at Tent Dance?” “Was it because of all the transports?” “I heard you guys got shut down because of noise complaints, is that true?” I don’t have an answer for those people because the Administration has failed to communicate, not only with me, not only with the student population, but also with the alumni that came to Tent Dance to enjoy the festivities of Saturday night.
I think the school owes us all an apology; not for shutting down what seemed to be the event of the semester, but for keeping quiet in the aftermath. While the school has done a great job online of showing how great Fall Weekend was for alums and parents and some student organizations, it has failed to even acknowledge Saturday night’s early ending. If our Administration hopes to foster an active and engaging social life on campus, it must engage in a candid conversation about how social events should be conducted. No one wants a school where everyone expects the Administration to let us down when it comes to social events. At the same time, I understand their concerns for our safety. I’m not asking for keggers on the green every weekend. I’m not even asking for more parties. I just want to see my administration interact with me and everyone else on how we can make Conn a fun place to be on the weekends. I’m sick of Classic Conn – bring on the Extraordinary Conn. •
