I’m basically a child. And what do children love? Snapchat. While I wouldn’t say that I love Snapchat, I must confess that I do “snap.” Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
Sitting in a cafe, I get a notification from a person I was very close with in high school. For privacy, I’m going to make up a fake garbage school. Let’s call it the “San Diego State University.” Anyways, this guy and I have what I would call a Snapchat relationship — a dwindling one at that.
So my friend who goes to the “San Diego State University” sent me a snap and I responded, not with a photo of my face — ew — but with the surroundings of this local underground cafe near campus — it’s called Caffe Strada, you have got to check it out. It was a quick photo, nothing to write home about, just of the people I’m sitting with. He opens the snap right away, and I see his dumb little Bitmoji pop up and down as he workshops a comment.
He replies: “so berkley.” And knowing this man, this was not a compliment.
I furrowed my brow, confused by what he meant, but after I looked at the two people I was sitting next to — Exhibit A: my bobbed roommate, who took a gap year to work on Kamala Harris’ campaign and live in New Zealand; and Exhibit B: a Birkenstocked, nose ring-wearing multi-instrumentalist, I realized maybe I did know what he meant. This scene is very Berkeley.
Months later, I was informed through the “twinkvine” that people from back home were discussing me. I can’t escape them, even when I am in Berkeley. Sitting on the disgusting couch of a frat guy who is from the same neighborhood as me, I was told that friends of friends had been deliberating. It was a fact that no one loves to hear from old friends: I had, allegedly, changed.
Changed? Moi? That doesn’t sound right.
OK, I may have done that. But I mean, that makes sense. I moved from an echo chamber of a coastal peninsula in San Diego to living 30 minutes from San Francisco. I went from spending three hours after school every day at a predominantly white rowing club to attending one of the most diverse universities. Change is bound to happen.
Unfortunately, that’s not even what they were talking about. “It’s because you’re in touse,” the frat guy told me. Oh, it’s the sorority. Awesome.
Nevertheless, when I hear the mocks from my friends back home about joining my so-called sisterhood, I meet them all with the same pretentious, vague and self-righteous answer of: “It’s different at UC Berkeley; you wouldn’t understand.”
And for the most part, I stand by that. However, I don’t think they resonate with that answer.
I don’t know if you keep up with my column, but you may remember me mentioning the deplorable going-out scene for underclassmen beyond the frats, a huge part of my decision to go Greek.
But it’s true, Greek life is different here than at other schools. We still have some of the bad qualities obviously. However, there is a lot of diversity within our system in contrast to those in Southern state schools. I may be — or am — very biased here, but there are actually a lot of normal, down-to-earth chicas that are just here for a good time.
But I, for one, think everything is different at UC Berkeley.
Every time I talk to people back home in sunny San Diego, I am met with the look. You know the look. You’re talking to a group of people, and someone says something just a tad off, so you lock eyes with the person you’re closest with in the conversation to be like, “Say what?” Yeah, that. I get that.
I can order a green tea, and they’ll say it’s so Berkeley. My outspoken opinions on the state of the world: Berkeley. Those new shoes: extremely Berkeley.
Everything is boiled down to one quality that is inherently Berkeley. Are you calling me the city, or are you actually calling me a tree-hugging liberal? The jury is still out on that one.
There is something about this inherent quality that they don’t want to actually speak to. Something that’s out there. Something woke, maybe. I don’t know, I’m still trying to figure it out, and I’ll let you know when I do, but in the meantime, I think we all get the general idea of what “so berkley” means.
All in all, I’m OK with changing. It’s natural.
But, am I changing, or am I — just maybe — growing? Leaving home, becoming my own person and meeting better people may just allow me to shape and nurture my true self.
Maybe not. I might just be getting more pretentious because my surroundings are saturated with pretentious people, and that is what they are referring to.
And you know what? You’re right. I am very Berkeley. F— “San Diego State University.” Go Bears.