Fordham University

Date: Dec 07 2008
Major: Other (This Major's Salary over time)
I pass by tour groups on campus almost daily, and I am still working up the courage to shout:

Turn back! Before It's too late!

Maybe my outburst will encourage one student to think twice before choosing Fordham, and I will have done some good in the world. Maybe my heart just wants to warn my younger self. And erase this place from my life.

In the beginning, I attributed uneasy/unhappy feelings about Fordham to the difficulties inherent in transitioning to college life, making friends from scratch, and dealing with the unexpected. As the semester went on, and things only got worse, I gained courage of conviction. Finding like-minded, worthwhile friends makes the general population seem all the more mediocre. Admittedly friendly and at least somewhat intelligent, they are faceless(faceless because they all have the same face) ugg/northface/"ram fan"-shirt wearing blobs of people. Their hobbies include going to tri-bar (a corner in the fordham tainted section of arthur avenue comprised of 3 dive bars, a bodega, and a deli) or tinkers, partying with faux frats(i.e. the rugby team or the lax team), and imbibing the shittiest, most classless of beers: natti light. If you do not know what a Bro is, come to Fordham and look in any direction. If you still can't pick them out of the population(of which they comprise a large demographic) you probably are one.

As a side note, a disturbing number of Fordham students are young republicans, a creature I once believed to be oxymoron, or urban myth.

By day, the Fordham/Belmont area is culturally dynamic: the primary language is Spanish, rap, hip-hop, and latino beats color the air on Fordham road and even the local grocery stores, Italian American culture thrives on Arthur Avenue, and religiously/ethnically/fasionably diverse locals interact with students, often wondering "Where da pahty at?" But by moonlight, the neighborhood changes, becoming the soulless playground of drunken, defeated Fordham students hoping to escape the ennui of campus for the relative fun of nearby bars. Between cover charges, stifling crowds, and the awful music that blasts from the jukeboxes, night life has little potential. Between you and me, you might as well drink in your room. I am sad to see the magical Bronx of my childhood, where I came to visit my brother (also a Fordham student), buy liquor, or make a pilgrimage to White Castle, become a place I don't like anymore.

If you are from Westchester, you know, probably better than most in the New York area, that the Bronx is not the city. What you probably don't realize (and maybe this was just me) is how far it is from the rest of the world. For those weary of the Metro North, the D train station is a bitch of an uphill walk from campus. Once you finally make it there, it is a 30 minute ride to 59th street, and with the exception of Columbus Circle and the Park, who really wants to be in midtown anyway? If you're trying to get down to the Village the ride takes more than 45 minutes. I was personally shattered when I learned the hard way that the D does NOT stop at Union. Thus, to get to most places in Brooklyn you have to do some creative transferring. That is unless you are going to Coney Island, in which case be prepared to enter the twilight zone, because after an hour on the D time becomes meaningless. There and back again, you will feel like you have been to the end of the world. If you want to be on the east side, you have to transfer to the 4 at Yankee stadium. Above 42nd street, the 4 is not the familiar, convenient green train Westchester kids know and love. After any length of time, the usual crowds of this line become unbearable, and all the little sardines lose hope. Inconvenience congeals with depression and eventually one becomes resigned to existence within Fordham's imaginary little world. As one who once split her time between the Bronx and Manhattan/Brooklyn, I find it troubling that it has now been over a month since I have been to the city.

Any remotely free-spirited person will surely find the bureaucratic power of Fordham administration equally troubling. The Powers That Be, comprised of Father McShane and his Jesuits, ass-hole deans, and an invisible army of soldiers with sticks up their butt, rule this school with and iron fist. Their presence is ambiguous, but pervasive. One concrete manifestation of this rigidity is the Core curriculum. While most schools, striving to provide a well rounded education, require students take classes in multiple academic fields, Fordham takes it too far. Freshman classes, chosen entirely by the administration for first semester, are a waste of money and brain cells. Forcing students to take the same b.s. english, math, history, etc courses does not foster a love of learning in anyone. Eerily reminiscent of high school, the Core has a (barely) subliminal message:

I'm sorry. You have to do this. Its good for you I swear. Just do your best, and in a few semesters you can start learning about things that actually interested in. If we don't break you.

The teachers do the best with this system, most are friendly and knowledgeable, but eventually everyone seems to submit to this shadowy feeling of futility.

Outside of the classroom, Fordham Security and Res Life act as minions of the the Imperial Stickler. All posters must be approved by some office, or else be immediately removed by ninjas in maroon vans. Smokers must stand 25 feet from all buildings. RAs admit to listening at every door once a night for the "clink" sound of liquor in freshman dorms. Guests of the opposite gender are forbidden to stay the night and the gestapo retains the right, on certain weekends, to search bags for contraband. Expect to be treated as a child or criminal in every aspect of your life at Fordham.

Eventually, students are able to move off campus, choose their own classes, even pursue their intended major (novel idea). As most upperclassmen will attest, it does get better. "Better, but not great," one once said to me. While every freshman I have bonded with here shares my unbridled hatred, most of the seniors I look up to seem to share a unique indifference. The love/hate relationship that is the best case scenario here is best expressed by an ironic exclamation of "Ohh Fordham." Once you find your niche and settle into your rut, it seems, you learn to laugh it all off. But its a bitter laugh. Those who chose to stay are left always wondering, half-wishing. The words of one upperclassman say everything I'm trying to. In the end, it all comes down to this: "If you are not mediocre, you will never be truly happy at Fordham."

Turn back. Before its too late.