I am not much of a jock or party guy, nor will I ever be. However, in recent years, as I’ve watched Swarthmore’s party scene unfold, in a social world absent of fraternities, I cannot help but wonder about how and if campus will ever be able to develop a functioning party scene without the traditional venues.
But honestly, even with a frat-less campus, Swatties deserve parties that are less like bleak dystopian raves and more like actual celebrations. Imagine that — parties where the speakers aren’t drowning in static, the “DJ” isn’t just hitting shuffle on an old EDM playlist, and there’s a little more atmosphere than just your biology TAs grinding to Alan Walker remixes. It’s not about bringing back the frats, which disbanded for important reasons; it’s about bringing back the fun that lacks a clear designated organizer. Because if this keeps up, soon we’ll be reminiscing not just about what we had, but about what we never got: the kind of parties that don’t leave you questioning if you’ve been pranked.
If you’ve been to a party at Swarthmore lately, you know it’s like watching a slow-motion car crash — no one really wants to be there, but they can’t help but watch the disaster unfold. The Wharton Courtyard party? Oh, it was something. Someone tried to turn it into a DIY nightclub with a Bluetooth speaker that was fighting for its life. The crowd? A bunch of Swatties huddled together in their windbreakers like it was a climate change protest. We were all out there, frozen, trying to figure out if this was a dance party or some kind of bizarre performance art where no one’s having fun, and we’re all just pretending to be “deep.”
Let’s not pretend this was a one-time thing, either. No, no, no — Swarthmore parties have a history of failure. Like the Bratmore party, where they promised it was going to be “the return of the social scene” and we showed up to something that felt more like a fire drill. You couldn’t move without worrying about whether you violated someone’s personal space just by raising your arm. You’d think it was a concert, except the music was just some poor guy hitting shuffle on an EDM playlist that was more dead than a campaign slogan that’s lost its charm. But y’all kept coming back, because deep down, we all believe — like the last dying embers of hope in a presidential election — that it could be better. Maybe this time, it’ll be better.
And this is where I come in. You see, I’ve been watching this circus of a social scene long enough, and it’s clear: the current system is broken. Someone needs to step in and make the Swarthmore social scene lively again. You know, actually throw a party where you don’t need a Ph.D in physics to figure out how to fit 50 people into a space the size of a broom closet. I’ll bring back the fun, people. No more Bluetooth speaker meltdowns or awkward shuffle dance moves. I’m talking about parties where the music’s loud enough for everyone to hear, beer poured from kegs, and all that will be violated are the rules Pub Safe sets. Swarthmore, it’s time for a new leadership. And I’m just the guy to bring us into a future where “party” isn’t just a five-letter word.
Which is why I humbly ask Swarthmore to make me the President of Social Affairs. Under my leadership, Swarthmore’s social scene will see real change — because let’s be honest, we deserve a real DJ that doesn’t think being a DJ means having a degree in sound engineering. Olde Club will be reconstructed to spread out the crowds and give us all some breathing room — think of it as a little infrastructure for fun. If we can spend millions on watering the grass, we can definitely spend some money on throwing a better party. It’s time for a social comeback — let’s fix the Swarthmore social scene.
