A Tale From Orientation
One Student's Story of Terror in the UGLi

By Jacob F.M. Oslick

The following contains a slightly embellished tale of a real experience I encountered at Orientation. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, and the guilty.

Unlike many college freshmen, I entered Michigan's Orientation well aware of political correctness. As I spent my high school years as a debater, I knew of Law Professor Catherine McKinnon, and her boisterous cry that all sex is rape. Indeed, having gone to a quite liberal high school, I'd had some personal experience with that dreaded acronym "PC," founding a conservative club which my school soon banned as offensive. Still, nothing quite prepared me for the game of "tolerance" conducted during my orientation. Read on, gentle reader, while I tell you a tale of fire and brimstone. It is a story from my own orientation.

It began as a blissful Wednesday night, my second evening in Ann Arbor. Suddenly, they divided us 200 incoming students into groups of about 25. Like cattle, my group was herded into a dark chamber lurking somewhere in the Undergraduate Library. "It's time to get to know each other better," our group leader chanted. "We're going to play a little game. I'm going to say something, and, if you agree, walk across the room," she stated in a deceptive pleasantness. Right there, I could smell where this was going: divide and conquer, identify and reprimand. Divide us by opinion, such that the minority are obstracized, and go with the majority out of awkwardness. Identify the independent, strong of will, who resist this pressure for social uniformity.

I would have no party to their first scheme, and resisted their second. Thus, I allowed myself to stand out, in the face of their "tolerance." The session continued as I expected it would, the moderator making statements such as "I consider myself an ally of gay, bisexual, and transgendered people." One statement in particular stood out: "This school does not hold class on my religious holidays." As a Traditional Jew, I held my ground, as legions of devout secularists and nonreligious Christians crossed the playing field. I felt that although the school does not schedule classes on Saturday (a.k.a. Shabbat), this pleasantry grew out of coincidence more than principle. Further, classes are routinely scheduled on such principal holidays as Rosh HaShana, Yom Kippur, Simchat Torah, Pesach, Shavout, Tisha B'Av etc. No, I thought, this school does indeed hold class on my religious holidays.

Following this indoctrination (err, orientation) session, the moderator sat our group down so we could "discuss" our answers. When one girl's turn came, she said, "I wasn't sure about the religious holidays question. I mean, like, I don't think we have class on Hanukah." I felt rage within me. Hanukah? A festival commemorating a 2,200 year old military victory. Under Jewish Law, Hanukah stands out in contrast to the majority of Jewish holidays precisely in that one can do work. On almost every other holiday, activities such as writing, using electricity, and planting crops (should I desire to do so in fair Ann Arbor) are strictly forbidden. On Hanukah, one has no work restrictions, as it is only a minor, Rabbinic festival - not a divine commandment. Faced with such a situation, I lost control of my internal PC police and cried out (perhaps too strongly, and with a poor choice of words), "Hanukah? That is not a major religious holiday!" In response, the girl dashed out of the room in tears. I was then to learn the meaning of "tolerance."

I was escorted into a dimly lit room. The moderators arrived shortly. "We cannot allow people to express anti-Semitic attitudes at this University. You offended that girl."

Anti-Semitic attitudes? "But I'm not an anti-Semite; I'm Jewish!" I protested, carefully leaving out that I am also a rather religious Jew.

"We don't care what your religion is. We cannot allow people to express anti-Jewish beliefs," they answered.

"But saying Hanukah isn't a significant Jewish holiday is a Jewish belief, not an anti-Semitic one," I retorted.

"Says who?" they asked.

"Jewish Law!" I replied.

"We cannot allow you to offend others religious sensitivities. Don't you recognize that that's wrong? Apologize and admit your mistake to that girl," they demanded.

"But saying Hanukah is a serious religious holiday constitutes a direct affront to my 'sensitivities.' I was not wrong, I made no mistake, I will not apologize."

Then why didn't you just keep your mouth shut, to avoid offending anyone?" they asked persistently.

"Wasn't this supposed to be a discussion?" I replied. "Doesn't a discussion involve an exchange of ideas? And where is there a constitutional right protecting one from being 'offended'?"

"We are not letting you out of this room without an apology."

And so, faced with the prospect of hours stuck within an UGLI dungeon, I caved. However, although I stood down, I did not surrender unconditionally. Rather, I carved a bargain. I apologized not for what I said (which I continued to hold by as being steadfast and true); instead, I apologized only that the girl took offense. Incidently, she didn't possess the slightest clue that she shouldn't be offended because my statement was accurate.

And so I learned a few lessons. Chiefly, that the goal of university faculty is imposing a view upon students, not helping students to develop their own opinions. Whereas once colleges served the function of in loco parentis, they now strive to achieve the position of in loco intellectualis. Yet, our politically correct oppressors are people too. They have the same passions and difficulties as the rest of us - such as the need to eat. Accordingly, stick to your principles. When the PC gulag comes, try to strike a deal. They may be leftists, but they also want to get to dinner - they'll meet you half way.

So, take this tale as both a warning, and a piece of advice. One last word: pick your battles. Feel free to speak your mind, but understand that with such freedom comes the risk of a situation like the one above. Before arguing for your viewpoint, ask yourself if this opinion is important enough to warrant twenty minutes spent defending it. Lastly, fight on an intellectual ground. Never allow your spoken thoughts to stray into vulgarity. A vulgar attitute only weakens a logical case, and discredits your policies. If you act otherwise, you may find yourself unwittingly sent to the stockade of the Code of Student Conduct office, charged with disturbing an Orwellian peace. MR.

This article was published in the New Student Issue of The Michigan Review (Volume 18, Number 1).
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