Before we all say goodbye to our shallow acquaintances, suffer to get our dysfunctional families out of sight and say farewell to the Hilltop tomorrow, I thought it would be appropriate to clear up common misconceptions about some events at Georgetown over the past four years.
1. I am president of the Stewards.
For all those unfamiliar with the group, it is the main secret society at Georgetown. Others include Cloak and Dagger, Cross and Circle and Mask and Bauble. Merriam-Webster defines “steward” as “one employed in a large household or estate to manage domestic concerns as the supervision of servants, collection of rents, and keeping of accounts.” But the Stewards — with a capital S — mainly hand out candy during finals in Lauinger, meet secretly to discuss important university matters and hand out candy during finals in Lauinger. Here’s some trivia: I actually became the youngest member ever when I was first tapped in 2003 at the height of the Iraq War. The Steward experience has been critical in my professional development and my candy-eating during finals.
2. All of the laptops that I stole throughout our four years can be picked up on Copley Lawn following commencement exercises.
My friends and I — the Stewards — are generous enough to provide laptops as commencement presents to all members of the senior class. We figured we would be the indie Robin Hoods of Georgetown, stealing computers from professors, nerds in Lauinger and residents of Village A and giving them back to unemployed members of the senior class. It was going to be a complete surprise, but unfortunately, all of those annoying DPS emails through the years blew our cover. Whatever. Enjoy the laptops. I’m sure you’ll be happy to have yours back. And since most of them haven’t been used since their burglary, as a “you’re welcome” present, I would recommend running your anti-virus updater.
3. Norovirus was really a science experiment that got out of hand.
In the fall of our freshman year, a few hundred students sought medical treatment for norovirus, a virus that usually spreads in prisons or prison-like cafeterias at Georgetown. After doing some research at the Leo O’Donovan Hall Research Library, which is located behind the stir-fry counter, I’ve found that norovirus was actually designed and produced in a lab here as part of a competition in a public policy class. The goal was to see how quickly one could force the school to change Grab ‘n’ Go companies. I know from personal experience that many of my fellow residents of Darnall ached in constant nausea, vomit and general pain. And then norovirus made things much worse. Anyway, the library in Leo’s is amazing and has a lot of outlets.
4. I didn’t really mail the Healy clock hands to the Vatican.
Mailing the hands to the Pope for his blessing has been a tradition here since the 1960s and frequently mentioned on Georgetown tours. Firstly, yes, I and I alone stole the hands. Or at least that’s what I’m going to say until the real culprit — me — claims responsibility.
Anyway, the day after, I wasn’t really feeling the whole UPS thing. In actuality, after landing on Healy with my hippogriff and taking a look at the hands themselves, I discovered something very interesting. Like Hanukkah gelt, the Healy clock hands are made of chocolate wrapped in foil.
After flying home to Burleith and posting some angry comments online about Kathleen Sebelius, I removed the hands’ wrapping and have been eating them ever since. However, you have no need to be jealous. The hands have been exposed to the elements for decades and taste pretty mediocre, a mix between the pizza at Epicurean and the Corp’s coffee.
5. Commencement is just as weird as we think it’ll be.
It is bizarre. We’ve been students and friends for four years, together suffering through New Student Orientation, rejoicing outside the White House over Obama’s election, the capture of Osama bin Laden and Jeremy Lin and generally enjoying each other’s company. We’ve made it through good house parties and bad, disciplinary meetings, work sanction hours, lines at Leo’s, uninspired common room discussions at early hours, girlfriends, boyfriends, multiple Philly P shutdowns and a few amazing classes. But judging by the $78 black body condom and cap I purchased at the bookstore this week, college is over.
Despite what many smarter people may tell you, some or much of this strange world will indeed evaporate at or after commencement. There won’t be too much closure, and after a while Facebook birthday posts won’t be able to substitute for real friendship. Saying goodbye is tough, and the chance to say farewell in person to some friends, professors and others who have meant a good deal to you may have already passed. It sucks.
But on the bright side, we walk away from Georgetown with amazing memories, an expanded cache of knowledge and a job at Deloitte. Hoya Saxa. It’s been an unforgettable four years, and hopefully it won’t be too long since next we meet.
JED FEIMAN is a senior in the College and winner of the 2011 Mr. Georgetown pageant. He ran unsuccessfully for GUSA president last year.
