Our campus is full of repressed people. Though your peers seem to be thriving in their lives in Morningside, they have bottled-up urges and needs that are rarely fulfilled. Every day, they struggle against desires that tell them to drop everything and get the release they need. Instead, our fellow students ignore the voices inside their heads and bury their noses even more firmly in their textbooks. They stand on the precipice of indulgence, but they are restrained by their studies in empty Hamilton classrooms and musty Butler stacks. Occasionally, though, despite efforts to the contrary, the young men and women we pass on Low Plaza simply cannot hold it in any longer. Sometimes, their pent-up frustration breaks out and finds satiation in some grand display or timid deed.
I refer, of course, to the repression of all the interests, talents, and passions that take a backseat to our academic duties. It is a brutal practice that needs to be addressed. As long as this self-induced repression continues, our student bodies will continue to suffer under the weight of all that they do not express in their academic pursuits.
Granted, we come to Columbia in order to advance our knowledge of ancient texts, integrals, and cultural relativism. However, these represent only the first of many priorities that we as students and people need to consider. Focusing only on our academic development not only creates an imbalanced sense of living in our community, but it also stifles the many other ways in which Columbians can benefit our city, community, and selves.
Luckily, there are some Columbians who do a great job of pursuing growth in all of their abilities, which benefits everyone who witnesses their development. Take Postcrypt as an example. The recently threatened cultural showcase in the basement of St. Paul’s is the proper outlet for the musical and poetic talents that members of our student body would otherwise leave inside themselves. Just a few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of hearing Kayte Grace perform there, and as I looked at the Columbians sitting in awed silence listening to her and the other students accompanying her, I knew that everyone benefitd from the performance in different ways. Kayte, a hardworking Columbia student, and her fellow bandmates were relishing the opportunity to express their artistic and musical passions in their full glory.
On the other side of the stage, the audience enjoyed another freeing experience. I would like to think that, in listening to a classmate exercise her nonacademic passions, the crowd unlocked its own creative aspirations. Perhaps the break from academic performance is something that spreads through contact. If so, I believe there is immense potential for movement at Columbia towards balancing out each of our lives by taking more time to express those interests and talents that don’t show up on our transcripts.
Admittedly, our campus does boast significant infrastructure for nonacademic pursuits through student organizations. For some reason, however, an atmosphere of concealed talent dominates. It seems that all too frequently, we are stunned to find that an old friend of ours has a captivating voice, an awe-inspiring talent at painting, or an unrecognized prowess at a sport. Why is that? Does that have to be the case? I wonder if it is possible to foster a culture at Columbia that encourages people to want to express all of their passions in many different environments.
There are a variety of ways in which students could create a community that encourages exercising all of the talents that contribute to an individual’s identity. Though it would be easy to suggest administrative changes to class requirements to encourage more time to pursue these alternate interests, I think the solution stands with us in the student body.
We are the ones who create our culture, and, as such, we have created a culture in which it is more laudable to take six classes than to take four and spend the extra time developing in ways that our future employers may never see. The culture we have built for ourselves takes more pride in double-majoring than it does in building friendships and connections to people who can reinforce passions outside of the classroom. As a result, we find our time utterly capitalized by the communal prioritizing of academics above all other parts of life. Though we may have a longer transcript to show for it by graduation, I cannot help but wonder what other faculties could have been honed and shared for the community’s benefit had we all worked towards fostering a culture of holistic development instead of settling for academic perfection.
Derek Turner is a Columbia College sophomore majoring in anthropology and political science. Opening Remarks runs alternate Thursdays.

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