The
term is likely as old as our University. When used, it strikes a similar
universal resonance as the Weaver Chapel bells. Frankly, it is as much a part
of the Wittenberg community as stomping the seal. However, this term doesn’t
share the same prestigious celebration as Wittenberg’s founding, and it’s not
used to make a wide-ringing call for community, as are the chapel bells. In
fact, when used, people are not stomping on a bronze plaque to symbolize
accomplishment; rather, they are stomping on other human beings — or whom they
call “townies.”
Despite
the term’s obvious derogatory nature, many come to its defense. “When I use it,
I’m referring to those ‘rough, scary’ off-campus residents who always try to
sneak into parties,” so the defense
goes. “And there is obviously the difference between ‘townies’ and the
other residents of Springfield.” In this particular context, “other” seems to signify
a higher sense of civility, class, and, as the logic follows, ethics; or, in a word, superiority.
While
the champions of this argument may feel as though they have cracked the code on
the socioeconomic dynamics of Springfield, they are merely overlooking — willfully,
I might add — that this same line of defense has been used for most other
derogatory terms. The same held — and still holds — true for the use of the “N-word:”
“I’m not racist,” so the argument goes, “for there is a difference between a ‘N-word’
and most other African-Americans.” With slurs referencing the LGBT community,
it has been: “there’s a difference between flamboyant homosexuals (i.e., fags
or queers) and other gay people.”
And
even though the experiences of those whom bear the blunt of these slurs are
magnificently different from those who have been defined — at least in our
bubble — as “townies,” the same logic applies, and the hateful sentiments are
quite similar: “we don’t like your kind.” But instead of being
accompanied by a Confederate Flag or a proverb from Leviticus, the sentiment is
expressed alongside a pair of
Sperrys and a Wittenberg t-shirt.
What
is more, this term is not only prevalent within student discourse, but the
connotations it carries are also perpetuated by the Wittenberg administration.
For instance,
the day before last year’s Witt Fest, Dean of Students Casey Gill and Chief of
Police James Hutchins sent a campus-wide email, warning, “A large event such as Witt Fest draws many members of the
Springfield and surrounding communities to our campus. Among them may be
individuals who are seeking opportunities to take advantage of our community. Please
do your best to SECURE your residences while you are away and attending Witt
Fest, as this is a prime opportunity for home invasions.”
Granted,
there are certainly Springfield residents who steal things, but why
differentiate the populations? Why were we not granted the same helpful “safety
recommendation” in regards to those within our “own community?” Are Wittenberg
students not capable of theft? It seems, for Gill and Hutchins, that there
is something inherently threatening and dangerous about the surrounding
communities, an element not prevalent in “our community.” Hence, while the email is coded in professional,
politically correct language, the message remains the same: “watch out for townies.”
Though
the intra-campus use of the word is discouraging, our use of the term has
caught-on beyond campus. Over the summer, Ruby’s, a local bar, created a flier
promoting the advent of a “Thirsty Thursday” exclusively for Wittenberg
students: “NO TOWNIES ALLOWED!!” the flier reads. One could critique and
moralize Ruby’s all one whishes, but, after all, businesses will be businesses,
and they will market what will sell. And, in the Wittenberg community, “no
townies” resonates as well as a diaper advertisement resonates in a maternity
ward. Ultimately, we have, in a very real way, made a reputation for our
haughty selves that extends beyond campus.
As a
commuter, I don’t take personal offense when I hear the word, for I know the
surly epithet doesn’t apply to me. More to the point, the term isn’t merely a
demographic title to be worn — as, for example, “Brit;” it isn’t an endearing
nickname for commuters, professors who live in Springfield, or well-to-do
locals. Rather, the term refers to surrounding residents who reside at the bottom
of the socioeconomic latter. Indeed, it is slang for people who are poor.
Thus,
the next time one is compelled to use the term “townie,” I suggest he or she
should refrain, and say what he or she really means: “person who is beneath
me.” Or, if we don’t like that particular shift in vocabulary, if we are too
partial to that socioeconomic slur, we could always change our campus motto:
“Having light, we hold it above others.”
I,
however, think we can do better than that; as a liberal arts institution, I
reserve hope for our ability to interrogate our less attractive traits: the social ills we create, the ugly norms we
perpetuate. But if I’m wrong, if we don’t have the intellectual and
ethical courage to do so, do we actually have any light at all?
Very good! Thorough, thoughtful, I love the ending, and how you point out that we are building our own rep for haughtiness. Submit this to the Torch's opinion section.
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