Student Culture in the Amherst Area

By Doug Capozzoli, Annette Gildstein, Kerry McDonough, Lauren O’Brien, and Shoki Yashiro.

A strange thing happens to this town at night: Police officers accompany buses, ambulances race up and down the streets, and for hours the sidewalks become consumed with stumbling students. Mass crowds float from place to place: laughing, yelling, careless; bumping into one another, merging with each other, wandering from bar to bar. A line stretches up the road. In it, young women, yelling at young men, young men yelling at one another, young women crying, and young men fighting. Their voices ring through the alleyways in between the small shops that line the streets, sweep over the parking lots, and reside at the door of my work, everyone there with a common enemy: I represent authority. I am the staunch reminder that people are responsible for their actions; I am the relic of society. As the bouncer, I am the enemy.

I see the same people throughout the day that I see at night: The familiar faces of people in my classes, people who frequent the same places as me, the people who serve my food, my peers, my neighbors. Day in and day out, I see these faces, and night after night I see these faces change. The boy that I sit next to in history is now fighting the boy that I sit next to in math, the shy girl who serves me my coffee in the morning is now vomiting in the alley. The “excuse me’s” and “I’m sorry’s” of the day slowly become “You suck” and “Fuck you” as the sun sets.

I watch people drink as much as they can, as fast as they can. I watch kids stumble about the dark bar room floor with a glass in each hand, and kids sit on a stool, shooting liquor until they vomit on the bar. At any point walking into the bathroom could reveal anything from young men snorting drugs off of the sinks, to a couple having sex in the stalls. I watch these kids behave like animals. I watch them suspend their sense of responsibility and shame as if the world was going to end the next day.

Stackers Pub sits neatly in the middle of a strip of bars in the center of Amherst, MA. It lies directly between Amherst college, and the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Though, these sights have nothing to do with the placement of where I work. These scenes are not unique to me. They are things that anyone in my line of work would see every night. Its easy to note that the root of these problems seems to be drugs and alcohol, though, this wouldn’t truly hit the heart of the problem, it runs deeper than that. It’s this notion that we are not responsible for our actions, it’s the idea that acting like animals is expected from college students, so it should be accepted by others. This suspension of shame is at the heart. This thought that expectance is the same as acceptance. But then again this is not everybody. In all reality, take a group of 25,000 people from anywhere and your bound to get at least a handful of jerks that will ruin it for everybody else.

UMass Amherst tends to act as the scapegoat for all of the misdeeds of the town’s nightlife. Kids from Smith, Amherst, Holyoke, and Hampshire all come to my work. The majority come from UMass, but this does not mean that they cause the majority of the problems, or at least a disproportional amount of the problems. Whenever there’s a fight, a shouting match, or someone who’s had too much to drink, the finger is pointed at “Zoo-Mass” simply because of the school’s reputation.

This quick judge of character of UMass might very well be outdated. As my boss put it, the current student body of the university is the tamest that it has been in years. A hard notion to believe, but he went on to explain that “It’s all of the photos, and videos, and social networking. It’s not like this stuff went on less back in the day, it was actually much worse, people just saw it less. Now, everybody has a camera right in their pockets and are more than willing to let anyone who cares to listen know what they’re up to at any given time.” Many misdeeds are now caught on tape and held up as a representation of the university.

Traces of wild behavior from the past can still be found in the valley though. Events like Alumni weekend can bring back the excited personalities and reckless mentalities of previous years. As a bouncer, working on an alumni weekend one might assume that the night would be much calmer, but this is far from the case. It may be because these individuals are attempting to relive their glory days, or it might just support the thought that these past students are truly party animals at heart, but some of the most reckless and violent nights have come from this older generation.

Though this is not to excuse the current students. While they may not be the majority, there is certainly many individuals who feed into the “Zoo- mass life style. I frequently witness it, and unfortunately, so does the rest of the town. Generally the students who behave like this are the worst the university has to offer, and sadly the loudest representation of it.

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While the reputed “party scene” in Amherst is immediately affiliated with the town and the flagship University, there is a lack of research to support this association. This paper will explore the history of the purported party culture at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and the Amherst town, the perspectives of longtime residents, the effects of such a culture, how the local community and social media handle the issue and the University’s response. This compilation of research will ideally leave the reader educated on the issues and prepared to formulate their own conclusions.

The party scene in Amherst hasn’t always been consistent. Based on an interview with longtime resident of Amherst, Amity Lee-Bradley, whose home is only five minutes away from the center of town, the amount of incidents involving belligerent students has reduced over the years. Amity states, “Town has cracked down on parties, I see fewer of them than I used to. I assume either landlords threaten their tenants if they get written up, and/or police use threat of alcohol violations and noise violations to limit the scope of the parties. In my area, kids are most anxious not to offend. Much more than they used to be.” The only bad months, Amity mentions, are September and May, stating that students tend to have less studying at the beginning of the school year which equates with more time to party. With May being the time of graduation, it’s celebratory. Knowing this, it’s possible that the town’s police force is more lax at these times of the year, knowing that the intensive partying will dwindle out over time.

The threat of alcohol and noise violations isn’t just limited to the town of Amherst as the UMass Amherst campus has updated their code of conduct to include more severe reactions to such issues. It’s possible that the two have a sort of symbiotic relationship. Students move off campus in order to avoid the harsher code of conduct, and the Amherst police take care of the incidents in town.

The way it seems based on this interview with Amity is that before the school worked diligently on changing their party school image, the incidents were a lot worse. Amity recalled ten years ago a party near Puffton Village where she used to hold residence. Amity stated, “Mind you, there was a time when I lived in Puffton, and I was there when they lit a tree on fire and had the riot squad called — I came back from a weekend away Sunday morning to find it looking like a war zone near Hobart Lane, and friends from other parts of the country heard about the party that got out of control (not sure when this was, 10+ years ago I think). Hobart Lane usually has one out of control party a year, in the Spring. I think they’ll get 500-1000 kids.” Looking through news websites now, the majority of recent stories involving Puffton Village include individuals rather than large parties (two men loitering, one man breaking into cars, etc).

It isn’t difficult for illicit, rowdy activities to spill over to the surrounding area of Amherst, while the student body is about 22,000 strong. The campus itself of academic buildings, student housing, and recreational areas, spreads through 1,450 acres of land. When visiting the campus by day one might be deceived by its serene rural setting of grassy hills and trees. At night however, students transform and act in animal like behavior. This of course isn’t true for everyone attending the school, a majority of the party scene is actually known to be curated in the South West residential area. Comprised of five twenty-two story towers, twelve low rise dormitories, and two dining commons. Hugh Stubbins was the artful mastermind behind this tasteful architecture design (and also Frank DC). It essentially is like a mini-village, accommodating about 6,000 students. Since the area is more industrial than the rest of campus, Stubbins tried to incorporate the beautiful natural scenery with lots of open space and added plant sections to ease the roughness of all the concrete. That is also why there are wooden sitting areas wrapping throughout South West in order to refrain from being overpowered by bricks. Unfortunately though, not much has been renovated in these buildings since the 60’s and especially compared to the other, more rural side of campus. This I’d assume is most likely due to the fact that kids here are just known to be reckless.

South West residential area also happens to be parallel to the streets of locals that are simply living here with their families. Since many students also happen to live in off-campus apartments/houses near by, people pour out from SW onto the streets of Amherst. This migration period is only the beginning of the loud, obnoxious, yelling and cheering of peoples nights. Binge drinking is also another problem the school tries to address. When a person drinks about five drinks within an hour of leaving and then even more at the party, their liver doesn’t have nearly enough time to process all of that alcohol. Nights like this are what often involve the police and ambulances because of how reckless people can get.

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A new phenomenon has recently emerged in the Amherst area, as well as the entire nation– a phenomenon which has young people half-naked, drugged out and groping each other shamelessly in public. At the Mullins center, where only three years ago hip-hop stars and aging rock stars had almost undisputed venue space, now we see the arrival of names like “BassNectar,” “Tiesto,” and “DeadMau5”– the rave culture has (finally) arrived in America.

The “rave” scene started in Ibiza, Spain in the late 1980s, spawning from the active party atmosphere of the Mediterranean island, often frequented by German, Italian and British youth on vacation (Hunt 607). In the early 90s, with the advent of “house” music into the realm of pop culture, the rave scene became more and more popular, most prominently in Europe. However, at the same time much stigma was raised as to the effect this subculture was having on youths— most specifically, the recreational drug use that is commonly associated with the rave culture. These drugs include, but are not limited to, ecstasy, “molly”, ketamine, LSD, Rohypnol and GHB (Scott 6). Because of a widespread fear of this nocturnal, drug-filled subculture, the rave scene was effectively stifled by everything from mandatory age limits to anonymous drug testing and outright banishment in certain jurisdictions (Scott 21-7).

While the rave scene flourished and was the subject of much contention in the European nations, it never quite took off in America—at least, not until recently. College campuses across the nation are finding themselves prime location for concerts of high-profile rave DJs like DeadMau5, Tiesto, BassNectar, and Skrillex, to name a few. At these college raves, like their European counterparts, the use of drugs is abundant and unabashed. However, unlike the European ravers, this new generation of American ravers has little connection to the cultural and ideological scene perpetuated by its original creators.

The rave scene of Europe and the 90s was very centered around the concept of PLUR: peace, love, unity and respect. Sociologist Tammy Anderson studied the early rave scene in her essay, “Understanding the Alteration and Decline of a Music Scene: Observations from Rave Culture”:

The first component of a rave is its ethos or beliefs and attitudes that give raves their unique culture and group or collective identity. Raves had a distinct ethos called “PLUR”; an acronym for peace, love, unity, and respect. Generation X ravers viewed this ethos as a closer approximation of a society in which they desired to live. Second, raves were organized in grass-roots fashion. Website postings, mobile phone messaging and secret flyers informed people about parties and protected raves from police interference. (Anderson 310)

According to Anderson, the Generation X rave scene had an ideological basis—one which emphasized, not unlike the hippies of the 60s, the ideals of peace, love, unity and respect. There was also a certain tone of secrecy and exclusivity, as these original raves were held in discreet locations. Anderson: “Typically, raves were held at unlicensed venues, like old warehouses, fields, or abandoned buildings” (310). In fact, the whole idea of the rave culture seemed to be intended as a subculture—like the British mod scene of the 60s, and punk rock of the 70s, this scene seems to be geared toward a cult following, rather than any mass audience.

Which is why it seems so strange, to see a girl who, yesterday, was wearing Uggs and yoga pants with a North Face jacket, and is now traipsing her way, half-naked, toward a drugfilled music fest with neon glow sticks in her hands and a pink pacifier in her mouth. The rave scene has hit the mainstream, and it has been simplified, stripped of any ideological foundations, and commercialized.

However, while the new rave scene promotes recreational drug use and shameless sexual openness, its very nature prevents it from causing major problems within the community. According to the U.S. Department of Justice’s “Problem-Oriented Guides for Police Series No. 14; Rave Parties”, “The principal rave-related concerns for police are: drug overdose and associated medical hazards, drug trafficking, noise, driving under the influence, traffic control” (Scott 2). However, as the guide continues it becomes clear that these concerns are not particularly dangerous when compared with any event of similar size.

In terms of the often excessive amounts of drug use that occurs at these rave events, Scott says:

As a whole, those ravers who use rave-related drugs seem to manage their drug use, not letting it seriously disrupt other facets of their lives–work, school and personal relationships–although this is clearly not the case for all ravers. Few rave- related drug users get seriously addicted to the drugs, and few turn to crime to finance their drug use. (9)

In other words, the drugs that are often used during rave events (ecstasy, ketamine, LSD, rohypnol, GHB, etc.) typically do not develop into life-altering addiction for most ravers. In addition, “While rave-related drug deaths are, of course, tragic, and taking rave-related drugs increases the risk of death or serious illness, deaths and medical emergencies remain relatively rare” (10). However, it is also important to note that evidence shows that chronic ecstasy use may cause permanent brain damage (9).

While there have also been cases of violence, usually related to drug trafficking, at raves, Scott says that these cases are again no more frequent than they are at comparable events—in fact, they are less frequent:

The use of rave-related drugs has not been strongly linked to other crimes, as has been the case with other drugs such as cocaine and heroin. And unlike other youth events or other types of concerts, raves do not typically involve much assault. The few reports of rave-related violence are usually attributable to clashes between ravers and police when police try to shut raves down. (9)

In other words, according to the Department of Justice, most violence at raves has been due to police interference, rather than in spite of it.

Also, while many believe that raves and rave drugs lead to vulnerability to sexual assaults, “there is little published literature indicating that rave-related sexual assaults are prevalent. In fact, the evidence of rave-related drugs’ effect on sexual activity is mixed: rave culture discourages sexual aggressiveness, and while some drugs do lower sexual inhibitions, they also can inhibit sexual performance. So, in some respects, raves are safer places for young people, especially women, than conventional bars and clubs” (9).

While it appears that the rave scene is not all that harmful to communities as a whole, a major reason for the lack of confrontation at these events is the ideological foundations of rave culture—that is the ideas entailed in the PLUR philosophy. As the rave culture finds its way to UMass Amherst, it appears to have lost its ties to the ideological aspects of peace, love, unity and respect. UMass ravers are not the subculture hipsters of the 90’s European ravers—these are largely the same students who riot in the Southwest Residential district every time a Boston-based team loses a post-season game, the same kids who throw bottles from trees at crowds of drunken students every time “Hobart Hoedown” passes by. However, as the rave culture is so young in the Amherst community, it remains to be seen whether the lack of an ideological foundation will cause any trouble down the line.

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Traditionally, community issues are gossiped over and occasionally resolved during meetings and local events, from moms gossiping over the newest substitute teacher at PTA meetings to couples discussing nearby housing developments over burgers and beer. However, new technology – social media – has made it possible to connect with others on a variety of topics from the comfort of one’s own home. Instead of talking behind someone’s back or bouncing ideas off others face to face, social networking sites make it possible to stay up to date on the latest events as they are occurring and immediately respond without having to look anyone else in the eye. Amherst has been no exception to the social networking trend – in fact; it may have been hit even sooner than other communities because of local institutes of higher education replete with young tech-savvy students. Students have taken advantage of these sites to create status updates of song lyrics or latest adventures, plan parties, and post new pictures often to showcase their exciting and important lives to their hundreds of “friends.” The permanent residents of Amherst also occasionally use these sites for the same reason; however, their connection to social media provides an outlet for their opinions on the student culture in the community.

One prominent example of Amherst permanent residents responding to what many view as the party culture of local college students is Larry Kelley and his blog, “Only in the Republic of Amherst.” Kelley uses his blog to report on the latest news in the town, from local construction to his take on how Emily Dickinson would have voted in the November presidential election. However, the primary focus of the blog is on the party culture in Amherst, which Kelley follows using his police radio on evenings, driving out to scenes where police are breaking up parties and taking pictures of the homes and incidents. Kelley’s blog reflects his travels, and in his reports his own opinion is made quite clear as he lists the personal information – names, ages, and hometowns – of all arrested individuals and homeowners. Titles such as “Party House of the Long Weekend,” “Barn Blast,” and “Bye Bye Bad Boys” exhibit Kelley’s sense of humor as he takes pictures of students and homes that he posts without permission.

One of the pitfalls of social networking is the lack of human interaction and the opportunity to lash out at others, often anonymously, without ever addressing them face-to-face. A prime example of this comes from one of Kelley’s blog posts, where he wanted to bring a new comment on an old blog post that clearly vexed him forward to his readers for support:

– Take this Cowardly Anon Nitwit for instance. He made a Comment at 3:41 AM this morning on a post from 6 months ago that would normally only get a couple dozen views — mainly from folks doing a Google search for any of the numerous names that appear.

– And obviously he is friends with one or two because how else would he know that some of the kids I mention are “recent graduates” (sic).

– Anonymous has left a new comment on your post “Last Hurrah Party House Blowout”:

I am appalled that you think it is okay to post the names and addresses of these young students and recent graduates. As I read this, and the string of comments attached, I wonder if you have ever attended college? Have you ever pursued a higher education? There may be flaws with the education system, and higher education is certainly not without its share of flaws. However, it is a community in which young adults can grow and learn from their accomplishments as well mistakes. I am biased, I suppose, as I am a doctoral student studying education. What is rather amusing, however, is the fact that you are still in the town in which you were raised, posting personal information about people you do not know. Why don’t you post some of your flaws and your street address? I am sure that you have rolled through a stop sign, crossed a street without using the crosswalk, or perhaps upset a few people in your day. You harp on people who disturbed the public, and yet here you are, disturbing the public.

-Larry Kelley has left a new comment on your post “Last Hurrah Party House Blowout”: Seems to me the only ones I’m ‘disturbing’ are the a-holes who party too much.

But thanks for stopping by. Now go work on your dissertation. – Larry Kelley, 11/14/12

Instead of discussing issues in a public forum or through respectful debate, blogs offer the opportunity to stir the pot, where even this blog creator cannot refrain from name calling. The same goes for Kelley’s response to two students whose Facebook pages he linked to and who he mentioned in multiple posts, finally ending with a celebratory post:

-So it looks like UMass finally took the hint and took out rowdy ringleader Party Boys [Names have been removed in this paper]. No, not with a predator drone strike, as our military does with terrorist hierarchy in Pakistan. But whatever means they used, the less than dynamic duo no longer show up in the official UMass People Finder database. – Larry Kelley, 11/05/12

Immediately after the blog post is a screen capture image of a UMass student’s Twitter status about a discussion of Kelley’s blog in her class. Since Kelley was not tagged in any way in this status, it would appear that he conducts his work by listening to police logs, constantly checking the Facebook pages and availability of students on the UMass People Finder database, and searching for his own name for new stories on Twitter and other sites. Kelley’s public Facebook page comes equipped with links to his blog as well as pictures of homeless men sleeping in town and recommendations of his favorite cameras, for one of which he commented, “I usually get fairly close to my subjects, but I’m still looking for the right unit (want to have it for Halloween of course).” While the phrasing suggests Kelley sees the students he follows as targets for sport or units to study instead of humans or young adults, it should be noted that Kelley presents himself on facebook as a fourth generation and lifelong resident of Amherst with two young daughters (although he also lists his high school education in Los Angeles, California – a potential complication to his story). While Kelley’s social networking exemplifies the reasons many locals do not leave Amherst and are so invested in a change in the student culture, it also represents an extreme response to the behavior in the community.

Kelley’s work may be ethically or morally questionable, but his tactics are on the brink of illegal, for example his blog posting of pictures of homeowners or renters on their own property. Typically if a property owner requests that pictures are not the photographer is legally bound to comply, although in many cases it appears that Kelley takes pictures without alerting, never mind asking, the property owners. However, Massachusetts Publicity Law Section 3A notes that through the use of a “name, portrait or picture in such manner as is prohibited or unlawful, the court, in its discretion, may award the plaintiff treble the amount of damages sustained,” advising that the use of another’s identity is unlawful and that use of an identity that causes harm leaves the photographer susceptible to an injunction or an attempt at monetary damages. This opens the possibility that any of Kelley’s “subjects” who felt specifically wronged – perhaps because their names, residences, and personal information could be found on his blog and from that appear at the top of a Google search, affecting future jobs opportunities or public opinion – could attempt to sue him in court. Social media also here becomes the longest lasting and arguably strongest deterrent for party behavior of all time, allowing community members to leave messages for other and students that last beyond the four years a student is in college and into their adult careers, a name forever cemented on a blog post and on the internet accessible even when the former student is middle-aged with a family of their own.

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In the article “Amherst Needs to Protect its Neighborhoods” by Patricia Stacey, a staff writer for the Amherst Bulletin, we see a resident’s stance on the issues at hand. She states, ‘This problem is not going away unless we as a community respond to it responsibly and with definitive action. Students living off-campus in neighborhoods need supervision; they’re crying out for it.” Stacey does not say ‘students need to stop this behavior’, nor does she say that it’s all in the cops’ hands. She views the problem only improving once the community responds to it. Stacey’s plan for the community is to have them participate in town meetings and speak in favor of new zoning laws. Once these are established, she thinks, “we can keep our neighborhoods safe, we can keep our neighborhoods affordable for all, and we can fulfill our true moral obligations to the students.” This article does not paint students as villainous, rather that the circumstances which lead students to behave in such a way need to be altered. One such circumstance is the lack of on campus accommodations for students.

It can be argued that the lack of on campus housing and the rising numbers of students at UMass has a lot to do with the increasing student presence in residential Amherst neighborhoods. The campus only guarantees housing to incoming freshman, and with the number of applications to the university steadily increasing, accommodating all of the upperclassmen isn’t possible. With the addition of the Commonwealth College housing, more spots will open for students to live on the campus, leaving the campus police to enforce the campus code and keep the number of partiers down. However, this complex isn’t opening until Fall 2013 at the earliest. In an effort to remedy this situation in the meantime, the campus has been renovating buildings to meet needs by opening basement rooms, turning lounges into quads, and turning doubles into triples. This scramble for housing demonstrates that lack of rooms on campus is a problem acknowledged by the university, especially as it starts to impact the neighboring areas of Amherst.

In efforts to rekindle relationships between the campus and surrounding towns, Amherst seems to be also trying to make some adjustments on their side of the bridge. The residents are want to put more pressure and responsibility on the landlords. Since many students live in apartments or multi-family homes, the neighbors petitioned for it to be a requirement to have the landlords live in that area too. This way all complaints will be mediated through them, before police are called to the scene. When interviewed by WGGB about the issue, a UMass student, Michael Mobley-Smith said:

It’s a safer alternative than just busting in, giving out fines, arresting kids. It teaches kids how to interact better with the community. You might be able to call or tell neighbors, alert them the party’s going on. And the neighbors might be able to say, all right, if you shut it off by this time, it might be suitable for both parties involved.

That’s not the only attempts the school has made in reconciliation. The spring academic year of 2010 was slightly shortened in hopes to limit some of the partying. This of course with the assumption students will put their studying for exams prior to drinking. Its almost like freedoms in the air as students inch closer to the end of the academic year. With the sun starting to come out and Spring Break, larger outings start to pick up again. After kids came back from break, UMPD and Amherst PD made sure to be fully staffed for the remainder of the year. Amherst PD Chief Scott Livingstone made it clear that they don’t want to make the arrests as much as students don’t want to be arrested. He has found that many students who have gotten warnings about noise complaints actually maintain a low radar.

With the code of conduct at the university being updated to include harsher punishments as well as space being minimal in residence halls, the pull for students to move off campus is stronger than ever. In the interview with Amity, she mentioned this issue. Amity stated, “Amherst has always had a dichotomy between rental houses (or buildings, they’re often large) and small houses that have families. It’s more profitable to cram students in, so it’s very hard for small families (especially families with children) to live in Amherst. There has been a steady pressure for them to move further and further out.” The issue here isn’t only that families are losing housing due to the lack of on campus housing for students, but also that students are being concentrated in large areas in the center of town. Having this volume of students in one area, outside of the university’s conduct code, lends itself to disruptive behavior.

Having to deal with the same problems over and over again throughout its long history, UMass has been trying to spread awareness of these issues to students. Since it’s almost impossible to prevent every mishap from happening, the school is conscious about sending messages out about safer habits and being responsible. In all of the residents halls, many RAs have been putting up posters with alcohol, drug, and sex related facts in order to help spread the knowledge about how your actions can affect you or others around you. And even though the offcampus students are on their own and not associated with school, other than academics, when they get busted it reflects poorly on the school. So the school came up with some party tips in order to “encourage responsibility”. Some of these party tips for off-campus events include: checking IDs, keeping people indoors, eating before going out, and sticking with your friends.

The school also has tried to take another approach to show they care about the community by volunteer work. Despite the select students that project a poor image of the school, there are many student-run outreach programs to show their respect and care. The most recent was “UMass, UMake a Difference!” In hopes of gaining some more positive publicity for the University. The group of 125 students and other community volunteers, dedicated a day to contribute to complete projects mostly involving outdoor work. This helps rekindle relationships between the campus and surrounding towns. The town of Amherst seems to be also trying to make some adjustments on their side of the bridge. It seems as though the residents are trying to put a lot of responsibility on the landlords. Since many students live in apartments or multifamily homes, the neighbors petitioned for it to be a requirement to have the landlords live in that area too. This way all complaints will be mediated through them first.

The President’s Higher Education Community Service Honor Roll was first founded in 2006, for the six years this organization has been running UMass has been fortunate to receive an award. Out of the hundreds of schools that apply, only three get gain recognition. Not only does this show how much of an impact the students have made with current societal and environmental issues, it makes them a role model for other universities. With this honor under your belt, the institution is recognized by the President of the United States. This helps recruit students, gain media attention for achievement, and everything else positive in between that shines a brighter light on UMass’ title.

With such a large student body, reckless behavior is bound to happen, even with the brightest of students. It seems as though UMass over the past few years has earned its right to claim the “work hard” in “work hard, play hard”. (corny I know) The class of 2015 represents an increase of more than 200 students compared to 2010. This group also has higher academic rankings. Compared to just last year, SAT scores increased 20 points to 1187, the high school GPA average increased 3.61 to 3.62, and many students ranked top 20 percentile of their graduating class. The admissions process has become increasingly selective, with the amount of applications doubling since fall 2003. The school acceptance rate dropped from 82 percent to 75 percent in those years as well.

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While the University of Massachusetts, Amherst is continually improving in statistical terms, the fate of the school’s reputation remains unsettled to many. The most fitting conclusion to the evolution of a University with over 29,000 students involves a number of questions to allow individuals to formulate opinions. The issues to be considered then may be: Is the community opinion of a large University the final and true indicator of its reputation? Are the rights to protect community and town stronger than the right to experience college and maintain privacy? Is a party reputation acceptable for college students as long as they become successful graduates? Will the emergence of “rave culture”, as well as other party-based cultural notions, create any problems with the University’s interaction with its community?

Works Cited

Anderson, Tammy L. “Understanding the Alteration and Decline of a Music Scene: Observations from Rave Culture.” Sociological Forum. 24.2 (2009): 307-336. Web. 19 Nov. 2012. Citizen Media Law Project, Massachusetts Right of Publicity Law. http://www.citmedialaw.org/legal-guide/massachusetts-right-publicity-law .

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts General Laws, Part III, Title I, Chapter 214, Section 3A, “Unauthorized use of name, portrait or picture of a person; injunctive relief; damages; exceptions.” http://www.malegislature.gov/Laws/GeneralLaws/PartIII/TitleI/Chapter214/Section3A .

Hunt, Geoffrey, Molly Moloney, and Kristin Evans . “Epidemiology meets cultural studies: Studying and understanding youth cultures, clubs and drugs.” Addiction Research and Theory. 17.6 (2009): 601-621. Web. 19 Nov. 2012.

Kelley, Larry. “Only in The Republic of Amherst” blog. http://onlyintherepublicofamherst.blogspot.com/2011/03/site-visit-to-behold.html .

Kelley, Larry. Personal Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/larry.kelley.9828?fref=ts .

Scott, Michael S. United States of America. U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Community Oriented Policing Services. Problem-Oriented Guides for Police Series No. 14; Rave Parties. Washington D.C.: U.S Department of Justice, 2002. Web.

Stacey, Patricia. “Amherst Needs to Protect Its Neighborhoods.” Amherst Bulletin. N.p., 7 Nov.2012. Web. 3 Dec. 2012. <http://www.amherstbulletin.com/commentary/2592392-95/studentsamherst-neighborhoods-town>.

South Street Stables

By Lauren O’Brien.

I grew up in the sticks of Auburn, Massachusetts.  Almost every house on the street had a large plot of land and grew an extensive amount of vegetables which they sold to the neighborhood.  Two streets down from my house was a large farm that was part of my daily five-mile walking route.   A few houses down from mine, on the nearby South Street, was a blue house with a horse stable.

I remember that these natural fixtures in the neighborhood were a comfort to me, but walking the street now, the field is visibly overgrown, the white fence broken.  The man who lives in the blue house is named Charlie and uses the space to hold his trucks and scrap the metal from old cars.  He rents the house from my late great grandfather, who once owned three streets on this side of town.  It’s easy to interview him, as he works from home.

I approach him on a Saturday morning when I see him working out in the yard.  The tools he’s running make it impossible to hear, and he doesn’t see me approaching.  To the left of where I stand is a Rottweiler, barking wildly, a sign ‘Beware of Dog’ behind him, as well as a few ‘Private Property’ signs.  I’m not worried about the trespassing as much as I am about Charlie abruptly turning around and attacking me with whatever tool is in his hand.  It’s well known that Charlie is addicted to pain pills and has had some trouble with the law.  He notices me to his right and shuts down the tool, asks me what I need.  I say to him, “Hey Charlie, I have an assignment for class, I just want to ask a few questions about this house and the fields and such.  You know, the horses and Melissa, the previous owner.”

“This house is shit,” he says, “falling apart. I pay too much for it.”  I find the comment to be asinine, as the amount of land that accompanies this house makes it worth much more than he is paying.  I poke and prod about the subject, what the land used to hold, why it was abandoned, who owned it, etc.  Charlie gives me a brief summary.

He tells me that the house belonged to a woman named Melissa, who passed away from lung cancer at age 52.  She hoarded animals, having no less than three cats a time.  “She was stupid,” he said, “every cat she had got killed on this street and she just kept getting them.”  He said that the cats were her obsession but that she had two horses named Dolly and Simmy.  Simmy died young, an accident, and Dolly lived until she was old.  Charlie was close friends with Melissa’s husband, who owned a car garage across the street.  The two divorced young, and he married her sister.  He said she let the fields go after that.

I asked if he would show me around the fields, and he agreed.  The fence has large gaps in it now, to make it more accessible for Charlie’s work.  He told me that the fence always had problems and that the horses used to escape into the road.  “That’s how Simmy died,” he said.  “Your great grandfather tied him to the fence, rope around the neck, to try and keep him out.”  I’m alarmed by the comment.  My great-grandfather owned this street yet told us nothing of its residents or the land.  “He was dumb, sold an entire street of his for 1,000 dollars about twenty years ago.  Flurry family wanted to purchase it, asked him to name a price, and he said, ‘Just give me how much I paid for it,’ which was 1,000 dollars at the time.  Street was easily worth $80,000 now.”

It’s almost impossible to reach the horse stables now, as the path to them isn’t cleared.  They still exist, in a far corner of the plot, part of the roof concaved.  Charlie tells me that the field was never great for walking.  He said that everywhere you’d walk, you’d get burrs stuck to your shoes, or almost step in huge piles of ‘horse shit.’  He told me that Melissa’s grandchildren would try and push each other in it or ‘piss off the horses’ by pulling on their tails.

He told me that it was inevitable that this land die.  Auburn became a town of industry after the ’60s, abandoning our farming roots.  We cared more about Goddard’s rockets than we did about the hundreds of farms that existed in our town.  He pointed across the street to the sewerage company owned by my grandfather.  “You should know better than the rest,” he said; “your grandfather used to be a farmer.”

I think back to the stories my mother told me when I was growing up.  Ones like the day that her family barn burned down, how traumatizing it was to lose such an important piece of history.  When my grandfather lost his farm, my mother would walk to one nearby, harvest vegetables, ward off pests, and earn enough money to go see a movie with her friends later that night.  The farm she used to work on is one of the few that remains intact.  I often wonder if they’d accept the help of a college undergraduate, so that I can somehow connect myself with the experiences of my mother.

I want to bring life back to these farmhouses and stables that were replaced, bulldozed, and talk to the families that had to shift their ways of life.  I walked to another house, across the street from this horse stable, one that belonged to my great grandparents for quite some time.  I remember asking my great grandmother, Rita, what the neighborhood was like, about her neighbors.  She told me that they were “not all there.”  I asked for particulars and she told me that once her neighbor, Tracy, chased her husband around their large backyard, topless and carrying a hatchet.  The area was remote enough that one could ‘get away’ with such a spectacle.

I’m envious of my grandparents for knowing the town when there were only a few notable families.  On my side of town, which has the few leftover farms, everyone is referred to by last name.  “Mahlert came over today,” my grandfather would say, or “Flurry should come by and fix those cabinets.”  The families were tight-knit, the population small.  It took a specific type of family to flourish here.  The thing they had in common was their love of hard work – all farmers, carpenters, mechanics, etc.  My mother would describe a few of them to me, saying, “I remember one of my neighbors, Ian, had a bunch of goats. There was a day he was standing behind one of them, none of us were sure what he was doing, but it didn’t look appropriate.  So we walked close enough to get the whole thing on video, and narrated over it.”  She had another one, about David, whom she described as someone who “was so obsessed with keeping the land pristine that if our lawn was ever overgrown, he would just come over and mow it.  We tried to offer him beer, but he would just grunt at us, tell us he didn’t drink.”

I am fascinated by reconstructing Auburn’s farms and the odd characters that my family and friends describe.  The town has a rich colonial history, one that cherished small family-owned general stores, small soldier graveyards.  The land now has realtor signs all over it, or has already birthed numerous businesses (the majority as car dealerships).  I often tell new friends of mine that I am from Auburn, a farmtown next to Worcester.  The first thing they say to me is, “Oh, exit 10 from the Pike? Your mall looks huge.”  Other times they ask, “Oh, the Auburn Rockets, with the phallic mascot?”  It’s better than our other name, though, ‘E-Town’.  Due to the ‘tough suburban life’ in my town, we had an issue with students selling and taking ecstasy, and all I can think of is that they’re bored, that these problems came as a result of losing our town’s major extracurricular activity.  It’s a shame that we’ve become a sort of joke, and that the older generations have to witness this deterioration.

Websites often list our town’s industries, or Goddard’s rocket launching site, as our notable tourist locations.  In a way, our emphasis on this town icon, the rocket, is as much a removal from our past as our popular shopping mall, car dealerships, and industrial parks.  The rocket itself is emblematic of progress, and once this type of scientific industry began taking over our town, the number of Auburn farms reduced from over 100 in the 1850s to only 4 operating farms in 2012, according to the Auburn Town Guide website.

The website also contains this quote: “While Auburn is struggling to maintain its small town flavor, there has been major business development along the main roads.”  The choice of the word ‘struggling’ highlights the nature of the Auburn resident.  We crafted our homes on history.  We take pictures of the outside of the colonial buildings, forgetting that the inside is a renovated nail parlor.  Unless we focus on interviewing the older residents, the town’s few Republican-party-war-veterans, we come nowhere near the town’s past.  Most residents don’t know that the town was once called Ward and that the name was changed for individuality – that it sounded too similar to Ware.  I often hope that our ability to adapt to a town name change and mascot change from the ‘Dandy’ to the ‘Rocket’ would carry into our ability to cope with this massive industrial takeover.  Except, we ‘struggle’ with it, become residents with large plots of land, overlooking machinery and growing nothing.

Works Cited

 “Welcome to Auburn, MA.” Welcome to Auburn, MA. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.auburnguide.com/pages/index>.

Pumpkin Patches & Bees

By Lauren O’Brien.

I grew up in a yellow house positioned between a railroad track and a swamp – one that is surrounded by hunting trails and blind turns, signs that warn of deer. It was a house few people could find, and often the directions we gave to our home included ‘when you’re lost, drive about a mile and you’re there’. We were the family of deer ticks and Lyme disease, homemade potato cannons and ‘no trespassing’ property. The majority of our visitors were those that knocked on our front door, prompting us to hide in uncomfortable positions and leaving us religious pamphlets. Foolish of them, as the only thing we worshiped was our land.

Our woods were filled were train wires, which all led to pebbles and then the tracks. Each time my dog would break free from her leash, she’d linger there, walking alongside it. We gave it a ‘paranormal’ significance, feeling that the two-a.m-train was a duplicate of the four-p.m-train, and that each passenger was a ghost from ‘Revolutionary War era Massachusetts’. We eventually changed that to include recent deaths, as my grandmother passed away in my home, one room away from mine, around eight thirty in the morning. On the weekends the phone would ring around that time, normally a telemarketer, but a few times the other end was nothing but static.

This is the same house where we had the Easter celebration each year, which provided a sense of authority for my siblings and me as we watched my father hide the scavenger hunt eggs in the backyard. He would always stick one in the exhaust pipe of his truck, visible only from my bedroom window and surrounded by sun-heated pavement. I always went for that one first, stampeding back to the side-door, scorched feet and bees in pursuit of the egg’s contents. The other children muddied their ankles searching for others near our woodland swamp – our ‘O’Brien’ bog that almost prevented this home from being built. There was always the mix of industry and nature hovering over each of our events, a sort of ‘theme’ for my family, as they all populated our previously wild environment with gas, oil, and carbon.

Our land itself was a gift from my grandfather, who owns two streets of businesses and homes, as well as untamed land of pumpkin patches and bees. It was passed down to him from his father and full of stories of farmland, barns burning to the ground, catching and greasing pigs to avoid the abuse of their back-from-work-late fathers. They were thick-fingered men with rope-burned hands, taming the nearby woods with no concern for nature, even accidentally killing their horses by being too strong with them. To have my family lose our home, their land, after 19 years of ownership showed our weakness. We fought environmentalists and nature itself to build our swamp-based home, and lost it all to concrete walls full of papered green. It seemed banks knew how to utilize the woodland nature better than we did.

Mine remains one of few families to undergo a house foreclosure in the cut-arts-save-sports town of Auburn, MA. Auburn, or as the neighboring towns call it ‘Snoburn’, was the epitome of ‘football town’, where people had four yards as opposed to one and the roads were impossible to drive on. This was due mainlyto our tax money funding our championship teams, our mascot being the ‘rocket’ (though it was impossible to soar here). That never stopped our Hummer-driving locals from routinely passing by my green-shuttered, railroad-track home to see if cars were in the driveway, or if we planted new flowers in our rock garden this year. The fact that they could even find it was alarming. They looked for the all too familiar image of my mother weeding even after the sun went down. Her mulch pile and shovel are now replaced by a white-posted realtor sign that I can see from my new home – two houses down.

The foreclosure wasn’t something anyone asked about when they saw my father working at Colony Liquors in the center of town. They had all visited the site themselves – our grass left without mowing, our shutters cracked from storm damage and ignored – and buzzed about it amongst each other. What was once a place of gathering family was desolate, impossible to populate, in part due to the train that passed no more than one hundred feet from my backyard. House buyers deemed it unsafe, forgetting the history there, that two curly-haired cherubim daughters would run outside to watch the train pass whenever they heard the horn. Each time I pass the house now, pushed off of our ‘sidewalks’ by overgrown shrubs, I try to paint over what is left there with memory. The dimly-lit, single streetlight urges me home before the color ever returns.

In hindsight, our home was always meant for spiders, frogs and bees. The swamp-creatures would infiltrate our pool, make nests in our gas grill, disturb the cerebral ‘rock formation’ by the basement that my sister and I deemed ‘our castle’. The yard always held a scene of terror, neighbors witnessing my father running over a wasp nest with a lawn mower, my cat brawling with a Massachusetts fisher, my sister and I naively ‘flipping off’ passersby in an attempt to appear older. When close enough to our house, neighbors never failed to hear screaming.

When close enough, now, they can see a white sticker on the side-door that tells people our house is abandoned. We tried to sell it but it lost all its copper. Somebody wanted to embarrass it, strip it naked. Broken-shuttered-yellow-house now coats itself with dirt to cover its unkempt interior, linoleum flooring peeling at the corners. It only took days without my mother’s bleach-hands and my father’s oil-stained uniform for the house to lose its upkeep. When I look at my father’s calloused hands now, touching nothing other than the television remote or his balding head, I try to blame our bog for swallowing his job, and I am comforted by this childlike reasoning.