“The most important incoming class”

First-years explain why they decided to come in spite of it all

Ben Horlacher, First-Year, FL

I still remember my fingers trembling as I opened the envelope, I remember scanning the letter head to understand the gist of the words on the page. I remember screaming when I finally figured out the message the letter conveyed, I was necessarily excited about the next four years to be spent at Antioch.

I remember hearing the news from someone else, I remember thinking, “there is no way.” I remember reading every word on the web page, hoping that something somewhere would indicate that it wasn’t happening. I remember not wanting to talk about it.

When I first heard about Antioch, I felt myself drifting into its ephemeral attraction; I knew that somewhere out there was a place for me. I had spent a short lifetime searching for some place to embrace my weirdness in the way that Antioch already has. Having spent my high school years in the South, I was one of three openly gay men at my high school. So when I first visited Antioch I found something I had never known before, a place where I could speak my mind and people would respond not with jeers or cheers but equally informed, and passionately discussed ideas and opinions.

I was not looking for a liberal, or homosexual bastion, what I was looking for was a bastion for diversity. Where I felt my differences added to the community, not separated me from it. So when I heard it was closing, I was crestfallen. I knew that there may be other great schools, but nothing like Antioch. I felt like Adam leaving Eden, my sanctuary had been ripped out from under me like I was the glass of water on the table that had just had its table cloth ripped out so quickly it didn’t have time to fall.

Then the inevitable questions from friends and family: “Do you really want to go to a college that is closing?”, “Does it make any sense just to go there for one year?” In my mind there were no doubt; one year at Antioch was worth one-hundred years anywhere else. So it was odd when people asked me “Why Antioch?” To me Antioch was not the end of a question, but the answer to a question, “Why? Antioch.” The reason I would attend a college that was supposed to close was because it was Antioch.

Alex Borowicz, 1st Year, WI

On possibly the most beautiful day of  spring, I first stepped onto the Antioch campus. I was immediately struck by the old and wizened trees shading the campus grounds.

As I waited among the other prospective students collected within Weston Hall I tried to imagine the school covered with a fresh layer of winter snow.  The green trees overpowered the idea and I was brought back to the real world as Brad began his pep talk on the school.

Leaving the campus that evening after a dance concert, I remember talking excitedly to my sister about my day.  I told her of my time with the Order and Chaos class, the people I’d met, the campus and buildings.  The rough state of the buildings seemed nothing to me; I’d lived in places much worse in South America.  How could something like that hold me back from an education like this?

As the summer began, I first heard of the new fate of Antioch College.  I am not much of a sensationalist, and I took the hit stoically, but so many of the things I had come to Antioch to experience were slipping from my grasp!  I would never be able to go on a co-op, or participate in AEA… but I was sure there would still be something for me at Antioch.  I soon saw the outpouring of support for the college and I felt a surge of pride at the thought of attending an institution that was so loved, for it is only love that can drive students to follow a school to its death.
It is that sentiment that steadied my hand and signed the check for the tuition deposit.  How can one possibly know what this last year of Antioch will bring?  Whenever asked about my decision, all I can do is assure my friends that “it will be an interesting year.”  I have no doubt of this, and I can only hope that I take advantage of everything it offers me during the next 9 months.

“We have walked in your shoes”

Kim-Jenna Jurriaans

“We have walked in your shoes,” reads the beginning of a letter sent by twenty-seven former trustees and chairs to current members of the Board that oversees Antioch College and sealed its fate during a meeting in June. The group of various vintages joined hands in an attempt to reach out to the current board offering their institutional knowledge and professional perspective to assure the future existence of the 155 year-old Ohio College.

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Letter – Paige Clifton-Steele, 2nd year, responds to LA Times article “Who killed Antioch? Womyn”

Paige Clifton-Steele, 2nd year, responds to LA Times article “Who killed Antioch? Womyn”

Hi Ms. Daum,

I’m an Antioch student who just finished her first year. I’m writing because I read your column “Who Killed Antioch? Womyn” in the LA Times, and I’m concerned about your comment on our SOPP, and the trend it (your comment, not our policy) represents. SOPP-era Antiochians are used to the assortment of media misperceptions that have, since 1993, asserted themselves in the face of all evidence and good sense. But in the wake of the announcement of our college’s closing, what used to be a puzzling phenomenon has become salt in the wound. You rightly note that the SOPP and public relations have had a shaky relationship. But you are incorrect to suggest that the policy is infantilizing, and offensive, if not strictly wrong, to characterize its historical context as “hysteria”. I’ll say groundswell, you can say hysteria, and we’ll still be talking about the same 200,000 some sexual assaults reported in ‘04-’05. Which, interestingly, is down 69% since 1993. (Bureau of Justice Statistics)

Continue reading Letter – Paige Clifton-Steele, 2nd year, responds to LA Times article “Who killed Antioch? Womyn”

Letters From The Editors

Dear Community,

In writing this I am finishing up the first Record of a year that is said to be the last of Antioch College. The summer was branded by the news of Antioch’s imminent closing; the mere existence of this early issue is the hard copy proof Watching out of a window into a waking New York street, I hear my exhausted coeditor talk in French to my 12 inch Mac while laying the last hand on the layout for the back page. Both the co-editor and the Mac have maneged to amaze me this week in more ways than can be mentioned here. The latter for not melting under the weight of a hastily installed version of Indesign CS3, the former for flushing her acceptance letter to Bard College down a French toilet and deferring her transfer to run a newpaper with me for the next four months. Her learning lay out in one sunny afternoon on a back garden terras in Williamsburg from me of all people was a stellar example of the deaf leading the blind and she pulled off what I could never have managed on my own. Complete chaos, and Antioch at its best.

KJ

editors.jpg

Dear Antiochians,

As I write these words to you, I am entering my 43rd sleepless hour. Co-Editing this fi rst edition of the Record from off campus and before the beginning of the term has been a hectic yet exhilarating experience.

It has involved flying from Paris to New York City, squatting generous Antiochians’ homes, walking the streets of Brooklyn late at night desperately searching for open cafes with wireless Internet, writing articles at 3AM in noisy bars, and extensively getting lost in the subway. It has involved getting mad at the printer, pulling all nighters, and (last but not least), crash courses in Indesign layout. Despite all these adventures–which have made me feel as if the last fi ve days had lasted three months– I am extremely excited to present you with this fi rst issue of the Record. Many of us have the spent summer between antiochians.org and Pulse, reading every little piece of writing that was published about Antioch. Many of us also became frustrated– if not infuriated– to see our community under public attack, often by commentators who knew very little about what the realities of Antioch life are.

The Record this term will strive to provide a window of fresh air for Antiochians seeking for an alternative community forum. Not one that will blindly defend our interests or fl aunt our identity. But a space of enquiry and debate where the community can virtually meet, exchange, and–most of all– recognize ourselves.

I would like to invite every Antiochian to participate to the Record. React to the articles, send us angry Op/Eds or (de?)-constructive suggestions, step by the office… Help us make the Record a crossroads contributing to bringing together our vibrant community.

I hope this first issue will set the first stone. If so, it was well worth the past few days’ strain and fury .

-JK

ComCil approves Editorial Policy Record awaiting re-installation of online edition

By Kim-Jenna Jurriaans

In a unanimous vote, ComCil on Thursday march 8th approved a new editorial policy for The Record. The two page long document is the result of five months of deliberation and revision and will open the way for the community paper to resume its operations online. Hugs, cheers and congratulations went around the room at the last ComCil meeting before the break, celebrating the approval of a new editorial policy for The Record. Only days before, the Antioch College alumni board, which gathered on campus the previous weekend for its three day spring meeting, made a symbolic statement by adopting a resolution in favor of putting The Record back online as soon as possible. The newly approved editorial policy is key in this effort of once again making the paper available outside of the Yellow Springs community.

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