We are Not–Penn–State. We encompass the Wharton School of Business. We are the first university in the U.S., one of the Ivy League and the hardest of cores. Though we have all strived and achieved to get here and become part of a certain sect of students, it’s important not to become arrogant about what we’ve accomplished. For certain Penn students, this attitude asserts itself in many ways, though one may be the strangest of all: the friend cult.
We've all seen friend cults firsthand, be they halls who have stuck together since the quad or high school friends who refuse to branch out. But don’t get sucked in as well. Although it may seem like a good idea at the time, joining a friend cult can really put a damper on your accessibility.
The primary problem with these cults is their vaguely incestuous nature; of course, this may be what Friends was trying to teach us over its run. Though Chandler, Monica and the gang may have escaped “just friends” purgatory by the series’ end, you must question whether or not they entered into “it’s complicated” hell afterwards. Apply this to Penn and the isolating nature of its apartments and, should you not choose housing carefully, you’ve got a real recipe for disaster. Unlike frats and extracurriculars, the cults are strictly exclusive. There is no entry; you are only chosen by the leaders of the institution. On the flip–side, careful observation reveals that cults actively reject their own members periodically, thinning the group to perhaps three or four people. Then what are they left with? Presumably themselves and some Kool Aid.
Now take all these qualities and couple them with a vague, religious ideology, centered on a strong personality within the group, or a prejudice against a distant foe. Suddenly the cult becomes a black hole that consumes its members as they obsess over inside jokes, acronyms and secret codes, as well as side–by–side text messages.
Well, perhaps this is too harsh. Most of us are guilty of some of these practices, and others still rely on core friends they’ve known forever to feel secure. It’s only natural! Still, I would hesitate to pledge allegiance to the real Jim Jones, let alone make myself comfortable in a Jonestown of community living. By all means, live with friends, keep those jokes, make the codes — just stay open to new friends and experiences. Penn is home to your peers, and even if you dislike the elitism some may preach, self–imposed exile isn’t any better. When it comes down to it, do what you need to survive socially, but avoid the soul–sucking syndication of Friends.
