Adam Reger | Freelance Writer

Pittsburgh-based fiction writer

Tag: Beloit College

Free Box #5: Old Testament Beard, Where Have You Been All My Life?

“Old Testament Beard, Where Have You Been All My Life?” is the title of my undergraduate thesis in creative writing. I’m alarmed to find it’s more than 10 years old.

It was doing absolutely nothing, hanging out in a filing cabinet, so since I have a scanner and a website, I thought I’d post it. It’s quite a bit of writing, especially for an undergrad: 60 pages comprising two stories, three poems, one essay, and a tough-to-define thing that I guess you could call a story. (It’s text that was screen-printed onto a t-shirt as part of a group art project; see the very last page of the document and decide for yourself.) I’ve improved as a writer since then, certainly, but I remain fairly proud of a lot of this writing

Anyway, here’s Old Testament Beard Where Have You Been All My Life?.


[Sigh] Time for Another Beloit College Mindset List

Here is the Associated Press’s story about it. Here is the list itself. My previous doleful sigh here.

I expended most of my chagrin and regret in that earlier post. Regarding this year’s list I’ll just say that doing the list bought Old Beloit its first mention in the fourth paragraph of the article, and in the eighth paragraph the school sees itself described as “the private school in southeastern Wisconsin.” Is it worth it, Beloit? Is it worth it? This is the 15th year for the Mindset List, so evidently yes, it is.

The article at least registers some dissent, as an incoming student bristles at the suggestion that he and his peers think The Twilight Zone is about vampires. (I hate this list.) Some entries, I will admit, are clever and, indeed, dramatize what a different world this year’s first-years have grown up in: “43. They were too young to enjoy the 1994 World Series, but then no one else got to enjoy it either”; “73. Lou Gehrig’s record for most consecutive baseball games played has never stood in their lifetimes.” But lots more are overstuffed and trying too hard: “5. If they miss The Daily Show, they can always get their news on YouTube” (I believe this qualifies as an enthymeme, as the middle term (“These students get their news from The Daily Show“) of the syllogism is left unstated. Nice touch, Professor McBride!); “69. Pulp Fiction’s meal of a ‘Royale with Cheese’ and an ‘Amos and Andy milkshake’ has little or no resonance with them.”

At this point, I am just tilting at windmills. This thing obviously does its job as far as getting the college on the map, so good for them. But man does it continue to be pretty dumb.

Addendum to the Beloit College Mindset List

. . . which I lamented here. Full list for the class of 2014 here.

“76. Calvin has always been peeing on things, rather than an intelligent and imaginative little boy.”

The doleful sigh of the Beloit College Mindset List

I am a graduate of Beloit College, a small liberal-arts college in southern Wisconsin. I transferred there from a freshman-year situation that was, from the beginning, pretty unhappy, and so I’ve always had a special fondness for the place, the people, and my experience at Beloit. For a shy person, a small school (about 1,200-1,400 students, at least when I was there) affords tons of opportunities larger schools cannot: I was editor of the literary magazine, hosted a radio show, and was heavily involved in the campus newspaper. None of this is stuff I likely would have fought for, or considered myself up to the challenge of, at a Penn State or a Pitt or whatever enormous state school I attended in an alternate reality.

This is all to say that I love and admire Beloit College . . . most of the time.

The time that I don’t, sad to say, is during the current pre-fall semester news lag, when national media outlets turn the spotlight on proud old Beloit while it does an embarrassing soft shoe of self-congratulatory nostalgia. I refer, of course, to the Mindset List.

If current students are anything like my contemporaries, I can say that Beloit College students are probably rolling their eyes at this dumb thing. It’s condescending, even insulting (“Students have never used a typewriter,” from a bygone list; “They’ve never recognized that pointing to their wrists was a request for the time of day,” from this one). Worse, it does the opposite of what the Beloit student spends his/her time learning and striving for: it makes a teeming mass of individuals, bright and focused young people with well-developed skills and articulated goals, into a monolith; one, moreover, mostly notable for what they don’t know.

But I’ve been gone a while, and with perspective I can better see the obvious: this list really has nothing to do with the students. It’s a wink from the faculty and administrators to the students’ parents. It’s an excuse to make a bunch of references, akin to old dudes drinking beers and marveling/lamenting at how old they’ve gotten. (“My kid thinks Nirvana is classic rock!” etc.) This thing comes from a few faculty members and PR people e-mailing lists around, adding on, and it has that kind of smug, riffing feel to it. The List has more to do with 1992, and being an adult connected to the culture at that time, than it does with 2010.

It’s really nothing to get bent out of shape about, except that it’s my alma mater’s one claim to fame, the one thing every year that gets its name into the newspaper. Truth be told, the Mindset List is probably the envy of other comparable small liberal-arts colleges, ones you truly never hear about; in that sense, I guess, I’m glad it’s around. (Eat it, Ripon! Go suck an egg, Coe College!)

But still, the sheer dumbness makes me want to shield my eyes. From the trying-too-hard (“Potato has always ended in an ‘e’ in New Jersey per vice presidential edict”) to the head-scratching-but-also-irrelevant (“While they were babbling in strollers, there was already a female Poet Laureate of the United States”), the Mindset List is dependably embarrassing.

Ron Carlson

. . . interviewed at Fiction Writers Review. Interesting stuff, very much about teaching as well as writing, and the writing questions are specific, process-oriented questions. I’ve lost track of his career over the last five to eight years but he used to be a favorite, beginning with his time as writer-in-residence at Beloit College. A few years ago I saw him read a selection from “Beanball” at the AWP conference and wondered why I’d stopped reading Ron Carlson. I wonder that now, too.

I’m heartened to hear that he’s not an everyday writer, that even for an established writer there are weeks when you muster only two days at the keyboard.  His goal of working more days per week than he doesn’t seems refreshingly sensible to me. I am floating into that zone myself, no longer having the available time to sit down for a dedicated, unbroken chunk of time each day. Partly it hurts, but partly it’s great, too: there are enough other things going on that I don’t have a daily string of hours from the time I get home to when I go to bed.

Also, this quote: “A lot of days I’d stop in the middle of a word. I’d know how to pick up, because I knew how to spell.”