Allow me to begin with a quote from a piece in the Feb. 7 issue: “It seems that ‘ghetto’ Safeway finally realized that it wasn’t really in much of a ghetto, but actually only a few blocks away from an expensive liberal arts college.”

First, there’s the fact that the label of “ghetto” on the Rose St. Safeway was purely constructed by the wealthy students of Whitman itself. Also, one should not ignore the fact that the store is surrounded by lower-income housing and working-class families. I commend Alice, however, on at least alluding to this in her article, and her last point, quoted above, is probably right: Safeway realized it has a bunch of rich kids close by now, so it should make things more flashy (to incite said kids to spend the excess money they have) and more expensive (since they won’t care where the money goes), thus ignoring the housing it is situated in. I am not saying every Whitman student is like this, but there is a certain mentality that comes with being affluent that enables this sort of occurrence in a store.

But I still feel that something more needs to be said for the working class of Whitman and Walla Walla. Coming from a lower-income family than the bulk of my peers here, I didn’t understand what the big deal was. At first I thought our Safeway was “ghetto” just because it didn’t have a bakery; I eventually came to realize that what I personally felt was a very nice (and more expensive than I was accustomed to) grocery store was, to put it shortly, “icky,” to other Whitties. They would complain about it being “cheap” or “dirty” and their favorite adjective to describe it completely misconstrued the word itself.

The misuse of that word based on its historical genealogy is mind-boggling, and for a school filled with “enlightened” students, it’s surprising to me that it would be thrown around so casually. We don’t use the “n” word. We don’t use the “c” word. But calling the Rose St. Safeway “ghetto” is ok? If they thought it was “ghetto” before, then they really, really need to see the real world in which we all live: see some real ghettos: and come out of their silver-platter-filled, alternate dimensions.

Which brings me to another issue. This ad went out over the student listserv, its subject heading “feeling classy?” a while ago: “or just HOPING to feel classy? then come to the FAH gallery opening tomorrow night! Gaze upon the brilliant artistic genius of your fellow students, listen to some folksy girls harmonize and strum their way into your hearts, eat cheese and crackers off of silver platters, and generally raise your classy-factor at least 7 points. FAH GALLERY TUESDAY (tomorrow) 8-9 pm FINE ARTS HOUSE, corner of OTIS and BOYER BE THERE”

This ad got under my skin (and not just because of the technical errors in it). It completely perpetuates the good taste=style=money mindset that makes working-class students at Whitman so uncomfortable. Just because someone can’t afford to “eat cheese and crackers off silver platters” doesn’t make them any less of a person, nor does it mean they have no sense of style, grace, or any of the other attributes generally associated with class. And being able to “eat cheese and crackers off silver platters” doesn’t make you more of a person, either. You don’t have to be wealthy to be classy. In fact, I think some of the poorer students on campus have more “class” than the rich ones.

For why should it ever be ok to wear pajamas to (academic) class? Why is it cool to have rips and tears in your jeans? When is it ever ok to chew gum in the middle of an interview or meeting? Why is it cool not to wash your hair? One thing I can say about the students I meet in First-Generation/Working Class Students of Whitman College is that they are the most presentable and professional, the most conscious of what their first impression will have upon others. They change clothes before class; they replace torn clothes, or at least patch them neatly; they don’t chomp on gum when talking to administration; they shower. They look like the ones with the money, and the ones with the money don’t. Patricia Williams mentions this in “Alchemy”: it’s cool to dress down. Isn’t that self-defeating?

This paradox is everywhere. Crocs, I hate Crocs. I never thought they were very attractive, but now they have changed from shoes for people to use outside to a status symbol for the wealthy. They’re expensive (the cheapest thing on their Web site is $29.99, which, to me, is crazy: 30 bucks for plastic shoes?), so now it’s cool to have them. Excuse me, but what? I doubt even 50 percent of the people wearing Crocs or knock-off Crocks today even realize where they originated, and I bet even less than that will ever attempt to do any sort of manual labor in them.

For the people that wear Crocs to SBux, it’s just a token that will be changed for another pair within a month (because, you know, this new color is so adorable, I just had to get them). Never mind how the people that actually need them probably can’t afford them half the time, so when and if they do get a pair, those shoes are treasured and intended to last for as long as possible, and who cares about color? And of course, Crocs, just like Safeway, caters to the wealthy and ignores its original crowd: now you can customize your Crocs! And you can get Disney themed ones for the kiddies, huzzah! (Ok, admittedly, I heart Disney; but what kid young and wealthy enough for Disney Crocs is going to do the work they were intended for?)

Yeah, I feel “classy.” But this “classy” is that of integrity. Of common sense. Of self-respect. Of respect for others. I’m classy because I’m a good person. I’m classy because I conduct myself professionally. I’m classy because I help others. I don’t need cheese and crackers to impress anyone; and, frankly, I don’t feel the need to impress anyone. My merits speak for themselves.

-Gabrielle Arrowood
Whitman ’08