A month into Penn and I was already sick of the weekend scene. So I packed some things and got on the train to NY to visit a friend at Columbia.

A few hours after arriving at what can only be described as an unending-staircase-sculpture-garden, I stood on the steps of their Taj Mahal library and thought, “I sure as hell am not in Philadelphia anymore.”

It felt strange from the start. And I had to figure out why.

Making my way amid the plastic-frame-wearing, skinny-jeans-clad masses, I gazed at oncoming traffic and couldn’t help feeling creeped out. Something was very, very wrong.

And then it hit me.

No sweatshirts. I’d been touring the campus for an hour and hadn’t glimpsed a single piece of Columbia apparel — let alone a Nalgeen emblazoned with a lion. What is wrong with these people? Why no school pride? Where’s the love?

And as the weekend wore on, the gap between our two communities grew wider and more definitive in my mind.

I noticed that Greek life is virtually nonexistent. That many, even those deeply involved in student organizations, are itching to go abroad. That for entertainment, students would rather venture off campus than stay local. That their undergrad work is more intellectually driven and less professionally oriented. That they’re under the false impression that their clothing, their identical hipster duds, reflect completely unique personalities.

And it makes a big difference.

Ours is a community of individuals, but a community nonetheless. The Greek system unifies across cultural and ethnic lines. We go abroad, but do so with concerns about abandoning responsibilities at Penn. We stand on Locust demanding fellow students’ attention. We applaud our own by patronizing each other’s performances. We focus on real-world, professional experiences so that, one day, we can contribute to the global community as much as we do to dear old Penn.

And we don’t waste time thinking that our style is fresh. We all dress the same. We know it. And if anything, it only adds to that sense of Penn-specific culture and community. We explore who we are, but our efforts towards self-discovery bring us together and start right here, among our own.

And yeah. Comparatively, given the absence of daily protests at the president’s home, we may be apolitical. But at least our nondenominational, non-confrontational ways bring us together to explore our differences, keeping us from leading lonely lives atop soapboxes.

And a note to Columbia kids: Buy the freaking sweatshirts. How hard is it to show a little school pride? I’d give my right leg to wear that Quaker suit.

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