senior thesis
It Will Always Be There
Introduction & Disclaimers
(or: Clarification for non-Anthropologists)
In the fall of 1998, thirty-seven students began an early entrance program at the University of Southern California. They had nothing in common besides high achievement and the shared experience of leaving behind their senior year. Within the first few weeks of meeting one another, they formed an intense and unusual social group which would remain strong throughout their college careers. I am privileged to be a part of this group. For the last nine months I have searched for reasons why we became such a close-knit “family," how we fell apart, and how we have reconnected in time to graduate and move on with our lives. This is what I've learned.
But first the disclaimers.
By “imagined community,” I do not mean fake or silly or in any way less real. I mean that for the most part, the community exists in our minds, in our imaginations (since we don't gather often). In the realm of anthropology, this is a new and exciting category of cultural group. Traditionally, the kinds of groups studied by anthropologists are closely tied to a certain place (like a village), a routine activity (like a club that meets regularly), or a shared way of doing things (like a religion). Even geographically dispersed groups have a high level of interaction (like internet newsgroups or fan clubs). That this group is maintained with a minimum of contact is one of the reasons I chose to study it.
This is by no means a complete account, and is not meant to be. Consider it to be the anthropological highlights of our history. I have considered as many sides of the story as possible, but it is necessarily filtered through the lens of my own experience (this is called self-reflexive anthropology). In many ways, this project has helped me to understand my own experience much better. I have left out most names where possible (sometimes leading to unavoidable awkward sentences), and the footnotes are omitted in this online version.
About the conclusion: You might get to the end of this tale expecting earth-shattering theories that will make the angels sing and draw it all together. I suggest Being Peace by Thich Nhat Hanh, or Dreaming the Dark by Starhawk, those did it for me. There are several reasons for my limited conclusions. I've become so exhausted this semester, I got to the end and no earth-shattering conclusions arose. Such is the nature of inspiration. But the more importantly, neat endings only happen in bad fiction stories. I've tried to tie up the loose ends, but you might find a few. Try pulling on them; you might be surprised at what falls out. Or you may find that they're not as loose as you thought. I hope that by reading this, you will come up with your own conclusions that will be helpful for you.
For RHPers especially: This project is not meant to exclude, offend, or upset anyone. It may offer different viewpoints than your own. One reason I chose to post this project here is that for me, listening to the memories and opinions of other RHPers has been infinitely valuable (even if I did not agree with them). I hope that you will find it valuable for putting your own experiences into a new perspective. If your view is not represented, it's because I did not hear it. If you want me to hear it, tell me! While I haven't got the energy to make this an ongoing project (nine months is quite long enough, thank you), I am more than happy to correct any facts that I have inadvertently misrepresented.
There's not a lot of anthropological mumbo-jumbo in here, so don't be scared to read on! I had many bitter arguments with my professor about the merits of a “scientific” writing style (anthropology is not a science!). In the end, my narrative style won out (have you ever known me to back down from an argument?). I wrote this for me, and I wrote this for you -- not for my professor or anyone in the anthropology “establishment” (shhh, don't tell them!). I hope you enjoy it!