Second Semester classes resumed April 2nd. The Eph's Log remains on hiatus.
Nodes in Preface Bottom
William's Club: "Not there, yet..."
The following is adopted from '10-11 College Council co-President Emanuel Yekutiel's closing editorial in the Record:
This past weekend there was a serious homophobic incident on campus[.]
Three of my friends were walking past Mission last Friday night... when one or more first-year males stuck their heads out of a dorm room window and called over to them. They screamed, “Hey you! Faggot!” When my friends did not respond, the freshmen kept badgering them, continuing to call them “faggots” until they finally walked away.
When I first got to Williams I felt out of place, like I had landed here by accident from some other universe. I felt lonely in a place where there were so few people who dressed like me, talked like me and understood where I came from. Instead of choosing to leave, though, I decided to stay and devote my time here to improving Williams as best I could. I experienced multiple student uprisings, from Stand With Us to the Hardy House sit-in, and I was inspired by my peers’ refusal to let the problems that affect our community go unnoticed. Those movements made me feel like there was, in fact, a place for me at this school.
Their fervor inspired me to work harder, to engage people in the important conversations about racism, sexism and homophobia on this campus. Their fervor inspired me to speak on behalf of the students whose voices aren’t always heard at this College: Those who feel removed by what feels like a dominant culture at Williams.
By the end of my four-year stint at Williams I was beginning to think we had done something, that something had changed. After months of protests, sit-in after sit-in, thousands of meetings, meals, conversations and strategy sessions, I actually believed that some of the close-mindedness and ignorance that seeps into this campus and rears its ugly head often on the weekends had begun to dissipate.
Then, just a few weeks before my graduation, this happens, and I wonder how long we will have to keep fighting to get Williams to realize that there are serious problems here that need to be addressed. The fact that some students, especially first-years, think it is okay to stick their heads out of a window and scream the word “faggot” into the night is okay, is so terribly wrong. What kind of school are we?
What it shows is that we are not educating ourselves enough. We come to College to learn and grow and part of that learning and growing is being pushed to re-evaluate one’s beliefs and identity. [...]
Williams, we need to start standing up against homophobic language. Captains of teams need to call people out when they hear this stuff come out of their peers’ mouths. Why? Because unlike other slurs and hateful language, you don’t always know who in the room is being hurt. JAs need to teach their freshmen that saying “faggot” is wrong, no matter what the context, the company or the alcohol content in one’s body. Being drunk is not an excuse. It is wrong now and always.
No one, not one student, should graduate from this college without knowing which words are inappropriate and what kind of behavior is disparaging to certain groups of people. If they don’t know this, we have all failed in some way. And maybe, sometime in the future, we can hope that graduates of this college won’t just watch their language but stand up for others when they hear someone else calling someone a “faggot.” What kind of college would that make us? The kind that trains its students not just to be balanced, organized and critical thinkers, but good citizens, enlightened, educated, open-minded advocates that fight hatred and ignorance. Now, that is a Williams that deserves a ranking of number one. But obviously we’re not there yet.
Emanuel Yekutiel ’11 is a political science major from Los Angeles, Calif. He lived in Perry. He could also occasionally be found in the snack bar chatting in Hebrew, when I was last in Williamstown.


Comments
I can't seem to comment on this post: William's Club: "Not there, yet...".
That is, I don't see the create a comment link. Is that intentional? My comment was: "Is the photo actually from Williams? If so, what is the date/location?"
The photos in Blast are credited to Casey Vitchers '10, Ms Vitchers will be the subject of a story this am 9/12.
[a turd from Turgidly]
Young Man,
Enough.
You posted anonymously. You have in the past posted 8-10 spam comments on multiple nights using multiple aliases. You've already been told this is inappropriate, and you are currently in the category of "spammer" as far as we are concerned.
You've also been told that, at our discretion, we will not allow you to pimp your half-arse knock-off of EphBlog (which is stealing our trademark, and which I could have Blogspot take offline in, say, 48 hours) here. If you're going to go off on your own and call yourself EphBlog, we're certainly not going to support you.
This is our private facility and you *may not* post whatever you want around here. You've been informed that your postings are unwanted, in writing, on multiple occasions.
While I've tried to keep this petty tit-for-tat mostly offline, you insist on bringing her back here and out in public.
You have no idea how much this disappoints your mother and I. We can barely go out in public without people talking.
What about this don't you understand? Or is the fact that we chose to post the above in response to your bad behavior, exactly the point?
We raised you for better than this. Better than being a renegade reporter, on some fantasy blog that's too big for its britches. And out after midnight spamming sites to boot!
David,
Sorry, I accidently left comments off for this article. They're back on and I've moved your comment.
The images were published in Blast Magazine's coverage of the incident. (See the advantage of having bots which monitor every mention of Williams College on the internet?)
Who is William? Did he go to Williams? What are the requirements for inclusion in his club (excessive use of apostrophes)?
When Ephwillam de Apostrope Jr. was a young boy growing up on the edge of the English Colonies, early each morning his parentals would send him to draw milk from the spotted cow they had traded with the native peoples to acquire.
It was on such a Tuesday morning in mid-November of the year seventeenth hundred and twenty-seven that William, having discovered a thick clay in the Connecticut River that turned his hands a deep purple when he touched it, contrived to play a sort of joke on his grandmother, Elizabeth. Arising before the sun, he grabbed the milk bucket but proceeded not to the barn but to the river, where he filled the bucket with the dark clay.
Thence to the barn, he proceeded to soak the hairs and hide of the spotted cow with the thick clay, until she and he were a matted sight of mud. Then, having covered her and most of him, he wiped his hands as he could in the grass, ran to the well to fill the bucket with water, dipping his hands in and then cleaning them and the bucket as he could, and finally, began to milk the cow as he might, in a hurry, before his parentals might miss the milk for the break of fast.
As he left the barn, a gentle but strong rain beyan to fall upon the valley, William and the spotted cow included. He arrived at the door of his house drenched, and Ephwillam Senior opened the door to stare upon his eldest son with a bit of fright. For this morning his son's face and arms were unmistakably, undoubtably, seemingly unexplicably, purple.
Ephwilliam Senior looked down at the bucket of milk to find that it, too, had the unquestionable odd tint of this most peculiar color, which, he suddenly recalled, was a favorite of his mother to order for lace and fringes and family wares. Just as soon as he thought this he left for the barn, to examine the family cow.
By this time, the once-spotted cow had meandered in the rain out to the corral, rubbing herself against a thick oak to remove the irritation of the mud and clay which young Ephwilliam had doused her with, and become equally soaked as he. Thus by the time that Ephwilliam senior arrived to her, he was confronted by an experience unique to his life until that date, that, of a Purple Cow.
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