COLUMN: Spring fever infects campus

From Mike Silver's, "Master of My Domain," Fall '98 From Mike Silver's, "Master of My Domain," Fall '98As I strolled down Locust Walk two weeks ago, I noticed something different from the norm. Shivering people weren't traveling stone-faced from class to class like prisoners in a Russian gulag. Rather, an unexpected group of serious studiers and serious slackers united on College Green. For the first time in months, people were sporting tennis rackets and Oakleys, and I couldn't ignore the Led Zeppelin and Allman Brothers songs blaring from gratuitously large fraternity house speakers. Was I delusional? Why did everyone seem friendlier? Surely not every student could have aced his or her midterms or received positive news from their prospective summer employers. And as valiantly as our men's basketball team fought this season, it didn't make some late post-season charge which universally energized school spirit. Spring Fling is more than a month away. So what was going on? Free 40s at Billybobs? No more carding at Mad 4 Mex? A Surge blowout? A spontaneous orgy in the Quad courtyard? As interesting as all three scenarios are, none of them took place (at least on that day). In reality, I can only offer this mundane answer for seemingly everyone's cheerful countenance: the weather. That's right. After what I observed and experienced that late February day, I am absolutely convinced that an external phenomena we all take for granted -- the weather -- can have such a profound effect on the attitudes and demeanors of an entire campus full of college students. So why do people act more cheerful when the weather gets warmer and more melancholy during colder weather? Psychologists would take a scientific view, as they believe warm weather causes people to maintain more cheerful dispositions due to higher levels of exposure to sunlight. Studies have shown that cases of depression often arise during cold winter months -- times when a lack of exposure to sunlight inhibits healthy bodily production of the chemical melotonin. As a result, psychologists coined the term seasonal affective disorder and have since successfully treated many patients with artificial sunlight therapy. While psychologists' findings certainly have merit, I believe the explanation cannot be fully explained scientifically. On a universal level, college students feel pressure from academic work, parental expectations and social and employment obligations. Cold weather indeed makes us naturally uncomfortable; but when warm weather sets in, it teases and tantalizes us. Why? Predisposed to stress in late February, the fleeting appearance of warm weather sets our minds adrift. Our thoughts naturally wander to the least stressful period in our lives up until now: the summer. For most of us, the summer has traditionally served as the relaxing and carefree respite between school years. Whether we attended sleepaway camp in Maine, navigated our way through Europe, experienced puppy love the last night at the beach or merely hung out at the local town pool and played stickball, we maintain positive memories of childhood and adolescent summers. But as we get older, internships, research, summer classes and steady jobs are now becoming analogous to summer. For the first time, levels of stress during the summer may mirror those of the school year. For me, this coming summer will be the first in which I do not return to the familiar, laid-back atmosphere of my old day camp; a trip to D.C. for an internship likely is in store. I'm sure I'm not the only sentimental sap who longs for those halcyon, free-spirited days of summer. So when we suddenly encounter a 60 degree day in the middle of February, we recollect the memorable stress-free summer days of our youth -- and that explains the smiles. Finally, on days when hordes of spirited people congregate on College Green, we all sense something Penn often seems to lack: a tangible feeling of community. The utopian promises of the admissions office literature seem silly when one observes how our campus is segregated along the lines of ethnicity, race and Greek allegiance. School spirit runs in short supply except when Princeton pays its annual visit to the Palestra. And as a largely pre-professional institution, Penn's students often seem disinterested with learning for the sake of learning and controversial national and international issues. I don't mean to sell Penn short; I don't know if any university actually possesses a constant tangible sense of community. But at least on that February afternoon, the weather created the feeling -- or illusion -- that a genuine community existed. How could one ignore the incredibly large and diverse group of people who filled Locust Walk and College Green with their conversation, laughter, spirit and activity? It can be tough sometimes to fit in and flourish at this university. And sometimes I've struggled to reconcile Penn the ideal with Penn the reality. But on that one day, I couldn't help but feel better about myself and take more pride in my school, since for a moment, the ideal actually seemed to correlate with the real. And more than anything, people just seemed happy. Whether it was due to the weather, melotonin, reflections of summer or knowledge that a sense of community can exist at Penn, I can't say for sure. But I was genuinely transfixed by my stroll down Locust Walk that day, and I hope that we can all enjoy more days like that -- days when just being at Penn and experiencing all that college has to offer can make us euphoric.