A few times a year, at school-sanctioned events, much of the student body comes together to get down. All but one of those times, it's in the crowded darkness, and several things happen as a result. Don't get me wrong; the Bashes and Balls are a wild experience and a great way to unwind. The unavoidable way to participate in a giant indoor dance party, though, is as part of a faceless mass. Nighttime Quad Reception, though distinctly a non-orgiastic mass — weird — is largely faceless as well. The dark breeds a safe anonymity, whether one dances or struts the birthday suit. Meeting someone doesn't feel like meeting a real Tufts student, but rather a creature of the night who swam up into your view. The conversation gets lost in the pulsing beats, or innumerable rear-ends. Eventually they fade away at the end of the night, and you'll have to really work to reconnect the next day, having met in the surreal darkness.
Spring Fling is, of course, also surreal — a bumping outdoor concert with at least 2,000 students yards away from University President Lawrence Bacow's house? But the daylight and space changes a lot of the dynamics. Outside, everyone is exposed. Any belligerent behavior and friends will certainly recognize the student. Any sloppy makeouts and people will take notice. It's not a darkened dreamscape anymore, and now we recognize dozens and hundreds of students as those in our classes and activities.
Tufts students are used to being productive worker bees during the day; this is when we buckle down. Even on weekends, many students pick one day or the other as a "work day." How wonderful, then, to see students let their hair down in the light, to still shout and dance and exclaim without the social crutch of darkness.
Did you meet someone new during Spring Fling? If you did, chances are you're going to remember them and remember their face. Especially if you had a chance to sit down on the lawn and talk, you might have had a pretty meaningful conversation. Compare this with the small-talk drivel that most of us fall into when meeting someone late at night. Being able to sit down and clearly see someone makes the connection infinitely stronger than a few words shouted from sweaty mouth to sweaty ear as the lights pulse.
Before concluding that daytime music makes the whole world sing Kumbaya, let's be honest. Yes, alcohol factors into Spring Fling, just as it does for the other three events. Here's the thing though: Spring Fling lasts for a whole afternoon, and the majority of students are back to where they started at the end of the show.
And still, there's a lot of smiling that goes on throughout. We're delighted to find ourselves outside when fellow students shed the workaholic mindset en masse and get down. It is exciting for us to realize that the student body has always had the potential to be this fun, this open. Why have we not been doing this for the past seven months? For upperclassmen, it evokes traces of Undergraduate Orientation. The social framework is constructed such that it's once again permissible to approach strangers and introduce ourselves.
Here's the takeaway: For one day a year, Tufts students can be crazy together in the sunshine and clearly see our fellow concert-goers — the same students who pack the libraries. Imagine everyone throwing away their books during passing time and rushing down to jam. It's a healthy reminder that if you take away the tight dance floors and darkness that lubricate the social scene, Tufts still knows how to have a great time.
--
Ryan Clapp is a rising junior majoring in sociology.
