Illustration by Taylor Penner-Ash.

1. You pee sitting down just to have a brief moment of rest.

2. You stop washing dishes and instead start eating off of other household objects.

3. You commence an eight page research paper on the day that it is due because any document less than 60 pages seems very short.

4. Three drinks of alcohol is basically the same as not having any alcohol that day.

5. Walking from house to library is essentially your cardio for the week.

6. Throwing clothes from one side of room to other side of room = putting away laundry.

7. When a guy messages you back, you feel like you’ve made some serious romantic strides.

8. You couldn’t find your best friend in time and instead sobbed into the shoulder of an old resident outside of Olin at 11:37 p.m.

9. Doing the reading for one class is basically like doing the reading for all your classes.

10. When you spend all day in the library and then spend your evening looking directly into a light bulb, pretending that it’s the sun.

11. Weight gained in alcohol consumption is balanced out by weight lost due to severe stress.

12. One shower every five days feels sufficient. The coat of sweat keeps away unwanted individuals who may distract from your work.

13. Talking to someone at the water fountain for 3 minutes is your social life for the week.

14. Rando research librarian smiles encouragingly when they see you around campus because they know your life is shit.

15. You don’t dream anymore because you don’t really sleep. But when you do sleep, you dream about data analysis and wake up in a cold sweat and aren’t sure whether you are glad that you slept, or unhappy that you couldn’t even escape your thesis by being unconscious.

Last Saturday the WWU Wolves faced off against the Whitman Missionaries in a Club Volleyball match that once again proved the necessity of the #prayforwhitman campaign so generously instigated by the WWU student body. The Wolves left the match with broad smiles and a deeper sense of faith, ready to give thanks, be with their friends and family and pray for the souls of the Whitman sinners, amen.

Scheduling the match was a struggle for the Wolves, whose rigorous schedules are filled with activities designed to enhance academic and personal growth.  The WWU captain stated, “Obviously we can’t do anything from sunset on Friday to sunset on Saturday because of the Sabbath. Also Sunday is out because of God. So basically we can only play Saturday at 10:30 pm.” This schedule put the Whitman team at an immediate disadvantage, as their hedonistic lifestyle prevents them from ever NOT getting wasted on a Saturday night. While the Wolves warmed up with an inspiring few minutes of passing, setting and hitting, the Missionaries lay on the floor in various states of undress, took pulls from a handle of vodka and tried to clean up the more egregious pools of vomit with a pair of knee pads.

In the game itself, the Missionaries were outdone not only in terms of skill, but also in religious devotion. After each point the WWU team huddled together, slapped each other on the ass and shouted “1-2-3 FOR HIM!” In contrast, the Missionaries celebrated their victories with body shots off of their libero. While the Wolves took a commanding lead, things evened out as the Missionaries pre-game Adderall kicked in. For a while, it looked like the Whitman team might take the evening. However, shortly thereafter several Whitman players were struck down with fire and brimstone after several injudicious uses of the word “fuck,” while their female libero was turned into a pillar of salt. “That’s what happens when you play ball with gays and chicks,” stated one WWU player. “CLASSIC Sodom and Gomorrah.”

With one of their best players reduced to a pile of ashes and a salt-lick, the Missionaries quickly folded. Feeling pleased with the performance of his subjects, God rewarded the WWU team: The floor of the gym split open and out popped several Bibles, a few medieval chastity belts and a Ted Cruz 2016 bumper sticker. The Wolves collected their prizes and rolled out, pleased that they could now with clear conscious go back to their rooms, say their prayers and thank God that they didn’t get into Whitman.

In the class of 2020, Whitman has once again attracted a homogenous group of down-to-earth, unpretentious, fun-loving, granola-chewing, Birkenstock-wearing, apathetic, White kids. Throughout high school, the overwhelming majority was not that involved, but DID know how to transform their mediocre lives into a riveting Common Application experience.

The class reflects a diversity rate that is pretty dismal so we’re actually not going to even report it. 370 students come from Seattle, Portland or the Bay Area, with the remaining 30 each coming from a different state, thus allowing us to claim that we represent 33 different states!

Here’s a breakdown of some of the achievements of the 400 students comprising the entering class.

400 (100 percent)

Number of students who said they participated in community service while in high school.

223 (56 percent)

Number of students who actually did community service while in high school.

220 (55 percent)

Number of students who did community service in high school because they were forced to.

3 (.75 percent)

Number of students who voluntarily did community service.

Types of service

Volunteer at Tomorrow’s Hope, an organization geared towards preventing human trafficking

Habitat for Humanity

Drove younger brother to soccer practice a few times

Car wash to fund personal trip to Spain. Shared profits. Community service?

Waitress at restaurant. Got paid so little she counted it as community service.

48 (12 percent)

Number of students who founded a club while in high school.

255 (64 percent)

Number of students who attended a public high school.

Enough to be annoying about it

Number of students who attended a private high school.

More than 70

Number of countries to which students have traveled on their parents’ dollar.

Countries they have

traveled to:

Andorra, Australia, so much culture, Belize, Bolivia, Bosnia and Culture, Cultured as fuck, Cayman Islands, Chile, China, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cote d’lvoire, Croatia, Czech Republic, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Egypt, Fiji, France, Wow, so much culture, Holland, Honduras, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Iran, Ireland, Korea, Mexico, Micronesia, Myanmar, Nepal, New Zealand, Not actually from here but makes it look like diversity, Nigeria, Panama, Peru, diversity, Poland, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Russia, Rwanda, Senegal, Serbia, Holy shit this place sounds fun, Spain, Sri Lanka, Switzerland, Taiwan, Tanzania, Thailand, Turkey, Uganda, Ukraine, Is that a country?, Uruguay, Venezuela, Is this list long enough?, Zambia

Other accomplishments of

members of the entering class:

Located Walla Walla on a map in less than 4 minutes

Got into Pomona, Carleton and Claremont McKenna, still chose Whitman

Adores “This American Life”

Doesn’t confuse Whitman, Whitworth and Willamette

Correctly pronounced Wallula, Wallowa and Walla Walla on first try

Already knows Taqueria order

Made out with senior last admitted students day

Declared major in Common Application

WFR certified and ready to lead their own Scramble

Has watched 597 TED Talks

Grows own marijuana

In an unexpected turn of events, it seems that people have actually read an article published in the Pioneer. Vitriolic anger exploded last week when the Pio announced its radical decision to change its name from a symbol of racist colonialism to something more culturally appropriate. “God dammit,” swore Whitman President Mathy Kurray upon learning the news. “First changing the college mascot and now this. How am I supposed to get money from the landed aristocracy funding this college when the White Settler or whatever it’s called insists on promoting a vaguely progressive ideology?” 

Despite the rage of campus administrators regarding the Pio’s insistence on occasionally doing something newsworthy, it was nothing compared to the backlash from school alumni. This should come as no surprise given the sheer amount of cash money that these generous individuals have invested in the Pio. In fact, this year in particular the Pioneer exceeded all expectations and received more than two subscriptions. It’s understandable then that people want to have their voices heard in a paper that they’ve given so much to. For example, one alumnus expressed concern that the Pio editors might not know what the word “pioneer” meant, and subsequently included its dictionary definition, writing, “See? Pioneers can do lots of cool stuff so we should probably keep its name.” Another was more direct, simply stating, “I’m angry and I don’t know why but I’m White and this is probably reverse racism. I’m not sure what that is, but I know it’s bad.”

The response from the administration has been quick and decisive. Dean of Students, Cluck Cheveland noted, “We need to remind people that our college is firmly committed to maintaining its colonialist origins. The Covered Wagon Train, or whatever, should just keep being called…well, whatever it’s called now. This isn’t just an obsolete college newspaper. This is serious business. We need to make sure that the Musket is reporting in a manner that reflects the values of the administra…erm…students.” Meanwhile in the Office of the President, Mathy Kurray put in a CustomInk order for fifty-seven screen-printed shirts reading “I AM NOT THAT LIBERAL” for her and her subordinates to wear at the Governing Board meetings in April. “I’m hoping they will get the message, but it might be too subtle for them,” said an exasperated Kurray.

In other news, writers at the Pioneer could not be happier with how things are turning out. “I always dreamed that a single human would read something I wrote for the Pio, and that dream has finally come true,” said one columnist. Editor Clarra May had similar feelings: “Actively engaging with an avid readership was why I got into journalism. Ever since the name change I’ve been getting fifty pieces of hate-mail a day. Truly an incredible change.” Ultimately, everyone working at the Pioneer had always thought that alumni, faculty and administrators had better things to do than worry about a little school newspaper. Well, we couldn’t be happier to be proven wrong.

Illustration by Claire Revere.

Whenever you see a Whittie on their phone, there’s an excellent chance that they’re doing one of three things: getting out their aggression by down-voting everything on Yik Yak, pretending to text so as to avoid eye contact when they pass you in the hallway, or, most likely, checking their Instagram desperately hoping for likes. Everybody knows that the number of likes you get on your Instagram pictures is a great way to measure your self worth. As a result of this undeniable fact, many Whitties experience a lot of anxiety when trying to pose “naturally” or making that critical choice between Valencia and Mayfair. To help make things easier for you, we here at the Backpage have a few tips to help you win Whitman Instagram:

1. Sunset in the wheat fields. You honestly cannot be on Instagram at Whitman if you don’t have AT LEAST one photo of you and your friends enjoying #classicWW. So get your friends, pack some beers, run recklessly across Highway 12 and document that shit. Furthermore, this is a great opportunity to get some bang for your buck. Also, since it’s 100 percent socially acceptable to Instagram the wheat fields every 1 to 3 months, we’d recommend taking lots of pictures on this trip to create a stockpile of material. Wheat is poky and itchy and you don’t want to have to pretend to enjoy sitting on it too often.
2. Photograph your Birkenstock-clad feet. Birkenstocks are viewed with a mixture of love and irony at Whitman. People will admire your self-awareness, but at the same time will respect your desire to fully inhabit the Whitman aesthetic.
3. OMG there’s nothing Whitties like better than going into the great outdoors with their iPhone so that they can constantly take pictures to prove how much they enjoy getting away from the world of social media. Like, were you even outside if you don’t have a photo to prove it? Obviously don’t forget to include a quote by Jack London or John Muir.
4. Document your study abroad experience AT ALL TIMES.  Instagram can be a great way to convince your friends (and yourself) that you’re having a way cooler semester than they are. Prove this by posing for pics with hot locals at a trendy Berlin nightclub, chugging wine from the bottle in front of the Eiffel Tower, or gallivanting around some Greek island in a long flowing dress á la Mamma Mia.
5. Hold fresh produce. This one is a classic. Nothing screams,“I’m natural as fuck” like an Instapic of you with a bunch of carrots in your hands. Be sure to get your hands dirty so people know you picked them yourself.

Every year as the leaves begin to change color, Whitman College is subjected to a hideous plague that wracks the school for a good eight months. From the stomach flu to the permanent sore throat to the raspy first-year kennel cough, there are a wide variety of ailments available to the Whitman student body. However, not all students have an equal opportunity of catching one of these illnesses. Obviously, the first-years who live in close quarters with questionable hygiene standards are privileged in the realm of illness catching, whereas those who live off-campus and wash their hands on a semi-regular basis may not have the same opportunity to contract disease.

In order to resolve this horrifying disparity Whitman College turns to its fraternities, highly respected institutions devoted to equality and inclusion. Specifically, every year, one of Whitman’s favorite fraternities, Delta Iota Kappa (DIK), hosts their legendary party, Globe and Shackle. Globe and Shackle celebrates the frat’s most important values and reminds us that regardless of sexuality, gender or race, everyone can still catch mononucleosis.

You know in “The Devil Wears Prada” where Emily Blunt tells Anne Hathaway that she’s “just one stomach flu away from her goal weight”? Well lucky for you, it’s not just celebrities who can use illness to achieve their ideal body. DIK’s Globe and Shackle provides this opportunity to the masses. This legendary party brings together illnesses from the every corner of campus, and provides endless ways for them to spread. You are basically required to lick the salt off the abdominals of at least two randos, share a ring pop amongst five different people, not to mention having your personal space aggressively invaded in the basement, where six hundred people are packed into a room the size of a postage stamp. It can get pretty hot down there, so feel free to cool off by rubbing your body against the dripping, sweat covered walls or simply pour a Keystone over your head. Globe and Shackle virtually guarantees that you won’t leave without some form of illness. So whether it’s from explosively voiding your bowels, feeling too hungover to eat for 36 hours or simply walking extra distances to avoid that rando you hooked-up up with, Globe and Shackle will ensure that you have the means to lose those pesky few pounds.

Ultimately, Globe and Shackle is, like everything the fraternities do, a selfless philanthropic event focused on bettering the community. DIKs provide everyone the opportunity to feel as if they are a part of something special. So, a few days after Globe and Shackle, when your body feels like liquid and your tonsils have swollen to the size of passenger jets, do not despair. Instead, revel in the fact that you are now participating in a quintessential college experience, and it’s all thanks to the DIKs who hosted Globe and Shackle.