A Harmless Tradition

One of the things I always liked about going to Wheaton College was the fact that it had so many interesting old traditions. Having grown up in a family which held onto a lot of the same activities that our great-great-grandparents enjoyed - from secret recipes and bonfires on the 3rd of July, to living in the same house for 200 years - I embraced the idea of attending a school which had a similar respect for history. So, once becoming a Wheatie, I enthusiastically threw myself into the Wheaton culture. I made sure I learned all the songs, the symbols, and the ghost stories, swam in the delightfully disgusting Peacock Pond, went Dimple Diving, climbed bell towers, and even saved my plain white candle from the pond lighting ceremony at the start of freshman orientation all the way up until senior spring, ready to launch it off into the dark water the night before my graduation. I even embraced Wheaton's superstitions, and refrained from walking out of the center door of Cole Chapel until I was officially a senior, lest the Chapel bell fall and crush me to death. I did these things not just because they helped me bond with my new home and family, but because they were undeniably fun.

However, Wheaton's most antiquated traditions - those most deeply rooted in it's past as a women's college, haven't really made their presence known until this week, as we seniors prepare ourselves for our upcoming graduation. For instance, this morning I woke up early and got myself significantly dressed up for our Senior White Glove Brunch in our old-fashioned dining hall, Emerson. Although no one actually wore white gloves, there were a fair amount of pearls, ties, and long skirts. The entire experience had a historical feel about it that momentarily transported me back to the days when Wheaton ladies snuck visiting boys in through the gates of Slype, as opposed to the current arrangements where Wheaton women and men live on the same floor and share our famous unisex bathrooms.

All formalities of the sophisticated brunch aside, however, the real throwback to our days as a "girl's school" came later this afternoon, when we would participate in the "Hoop Roll" : a competition between the senior girls which began before the turn of the century at Wheaton. In the Hoop Roll, each girl races to navigate her wooden hoop across the Dimple by running beside it and striking it with a stick. The race begins at the library, and ends on the opposite side of campus, in front of the goddess Hebe statue outside of Kilham. The first girl to throw her hoop over Hebe is supposedly going to be the first to get married.

I'd been hearing about this particular tradition since freshman year, and it sounded to me like a lot of fun. I hadn't kept my excitement about the Roll a secret, however, and had thus surprisingly endured the scorn of many of my female classmates, who believed that the entire concept of the Hoop Roll was wrong and anti-feminist. One friend in particular was quite vocal against it, arguing that there was a "sinister reason" why the race was directed AWAY from the library and TOWARDS the Goddess of Youth and Service (Hebe is most often portrayed as Hercules' bride and cupbearer to the male gods). Not to mention the fact that the entire incident involves beating a HOOP with a STICK. How could I POSSIBLY be excited about such an INSULTING activity?

Then there were all the naysayers who thought that the idea of celebrating marriage in general was reprehensible. Why should girls graduating from college be encouraged to marry?

This blacklash against the Hoop Roll is hardly exclusive to Wheaton. Wellesley has a similar tradition (shown most famously in the Julia Roberts' film, Mona Lisa Smile) which was altered in the 1970s so that the Hoop Roll's winner was dubbed "the first to become a CEO" rather than the first to marry. More recently, the winning title was changed again to "the first to become successful." Even more troubling, when asking a friend who attends Mount Holyoke if they had a Hoop Roll (I was curious if it was just us and Wellesley, or if all women's colleges had one) she was horrified - first, that Wheaton had one, second, that I would imply Holyoke would SINK to such a LEVEL, and third, that I planned on participating.

Suffice to say, this whole debacle really irked me.

First, what's wrong with celebrating marriage in the 21st century?

I've seen Mona Lisa Smile (in fact, since Wheaton's synchronized swimming team was featured in it, even have friends who were IN the film) and yes - in the 1940s and 50s, the United States had a problem. Its women were discouraged from looking any further than the kitchen sink when it came to their futures, were often pushed to get married to the first man who paid them attention, and many were extremely unhappy as a result. However, women aren't brought up like that anymore. I KNOW I can be single and have a wonderful career and be fine. But that doesn't mean I don't WANT to get married too. I DO. In fact, no matter how successful I turn out in life, I'm going to feel like I didn't really contribute to society unless I have a family in there somewhere. Nobody has taught me this, but when I think about my own life, I realize that looking back, accomplishments will be a cold embrace compared to a loving husband and some kids.

Today's women know they have a choice, but it's time we respected them enough to let them MAKE IT.

Second, holding a Hoop Roll or participating in one does not, in and of itself, equate with being brainwashed by anti-feminist propaganda. By their early twenties, most women have a pretty strong grip on who they are and what they want in life - a college graduation stunt isn't about to unravel them.

Finally, it's just a harmless tradition, and it's supposed to be FUN! As such, I think it's pointless to change the prize to "first CEO" or "first to be successful." The TRADITION is "first to get married." Deal with it. And at Wheaton, where we have been co-ed since the late 1980s, we allow men to participate in the Hoop Roll as well - and there are always some who do! Would all those feminists be upset about encouraging men to think about getting married? Probably not. Talk about a double-standard.

Suffice to say, I told all those sticks-in-the-mud to "Shove it," and I beat my little vagina hoop all the way to the Greek Goddess statue with my giant wooden penis, and I even managed to hoop Hebe second.

I take that to mean that I won't get married first, but sometime before my ovaries expire.