By Bex Schwartz

Dear Martin,

Thank you for your recent Wespeak. I’m thrilled to learn that someone who passed through these hallowed halls over forty years ago still takes the time to peruse our campus publications. Furthermore, your letter made me very, very angry; a good rage now and then fuels the creative drive. Thanks.

I don’t want to discuss COL 289 with you any longer. We obviously do not see eye to eye and no one wants to watch us go head-to-head (or perhaps tooth-to-claw) on page three of the Argus. However, Martin, I want to take this opportunity to thank you for publicly questioning my identity. It takes a brave man to attempt to smother a woman’s sense of self with condescension and patronage. I applaud you for your efforts.

You write: "You never met a frontier you didn’t feel the need to explore in hopes that there you‚ll find yourself. I enter the scene and have the nerve, as you put it, to question the presence in the curriculum of one of those frontiers, and you come at me with a broken bourbon bottle." Well, golly, Martin. I’m sorry about that little bourbon bottle incident. Sometimes the Wild Turkey and I get a wee bit carried away. It’s just that in the process of "finding myself" I realized that I stand up for that in which I believe. That broken bottle brandishing was just my way of fighting back. You’re such a big, wise man and I’m just a little naïve twenty-one year old. And we all know that young people never have the right idea. No one under thirty has ever done anything of merit or integrity. Gee, whiz. It seems that us kids are damn near useless. We’d better wait until we’re older before we try to defend our beliefs.

You continue: "Because it’s a desperate tooth-and-claw usiness, digging for one’s ID. But Wesleyan‚s job is to teach, not validate your ID." Oh, Martin, shame on your for your hasty condemnations. You have no idea who I am, what I do, or what I‚ve done, and yet you feel legitimized to judge my character. I’ve done my fair share of digging, Martin. I’ve been lost and depressed and confused. I’ve done things that I regret and I’ve done things of which I’m very proud. I may only be twenty-one, but I’ve done a lot of thinking. I am grateful to Wesleyan for things my professors have taught me, but even you must realize that most personal growth is done outside of the classroom. I never asked Wesleyan to validate my identity; I only ask that it continues to provoke thought and discussion, to provide a forum for new frontiers, and to produce students who will challenge and question the world around them. And the presence of such courses as COL 289 assures me that this is the school where I want to be.

You warn: "Wes validates ID cards, you see. (I think you formed the unconscious equation: validated ID card = validated ID.)" I was in a café in London when someone stole my wallet, and with it my ID card. On my return to Wesleyan after eight months in England, the first thing I had to do was get a new card. I had to have a new picture taken because I no longer look like the girl in that photo from my frosh year. The woman taking photos didn’t recognise me as the same person in the old photo. Not to get too English-major metaphorical for you, Martin, but I‚ve changed a lot since then. In the process of finding my identity, I‚ve shed several skins and realised who I am and what I do. It’s taken me a long time, Martin, and I’m not claiming that I’m done growing. But I know who I am now. And I’ll never need an ID card to tell me that.

Finally, Martin, you state: "Maybe, Bex, you could find it within yourself to re-explore the classic masterworks… who knows what a grown-up, open mind is apt to find?" Me and my young, little brain may have a lot more to learn, but how dare you imply anything about my state of mind? I am open-minded. I want to be challenged and tried, and I want to be exposed to new ideas. I read the classics with the same gusto with which I approach newer works but I won’t bother you with my preferences. Taste is a personal affair. I commend Hope Weissman for opening new intellectual doors and I support Wesleyan’s previous policy of allowing innovative and controversial topics to be taught. That‚s much more "open" than I can say about you.

Thank you for giving me the chance to validate my identity in print, Marty. May I call you Marty, by the way? For some reason you choose to respect my male peers with the honorific "Mr." Yet you refer to me by my first name. Sexism doesn’t fade with age and wisdom, does it, Martin?

Hear that marching, Martin? It’s a troop of postmodern robots, armed with bourbon bottles, Richard Feynman, David Foster Wallace, and Barbara Krueger. We’re angry, Martin, and we‚re strong. We’re heading out to some new frontiers. We’re making discoveries and solving problems. I’d invite you to join us, Martin, but the road is long and path is difficult. Maybe you’re too old to come along. Besides, we robots are young and full of confidence in our abilities. Those frontiers sure are exciting, Martin, but I think you’d probably feel threatened.

Schwartz is a member of the class of 2000.