A Perennial Grinch’s Take on Oberlin Halloween

by Rolf Smeby, Contributor

Illustration by Maud Arpels

I’m largely indifferent to big holidays, mostly as a result of my decidedly woke upbringing. Easter? I was raised atheist. Christmas? Same thing, plus my mom once got me pencils as a gift when I was in elementary school (a principled move to counteract the gift-giving excesses of my extended family), which was basically one step above coal in my stockings. Thanksgiving? We stopped endorsing colonialist holidays. Fourth of July? You don’t even have to guess.

This isn’t to say that I didn’t participate in these holidays growing up, thanks to my not-nearly-as-woke extended family and thanks to America’s inescapable obsession with the ritual of holidays. Nor will I claim that I don’t enjoy a quality party/celebration/cookout, though whether it’s on the Fourth of July or not has never mattered to me. I’ve just never subscribed to the cult of the holiday: I feel no particular holiday spirit or strong desire to participate in holiday-related activities.

With all that said, if there’s one holiday that stands above all in the eyes of young people across America, it would be Halloween. As a child, the prospect of obtaining a month-long supply of candy filled me with unbridled, immeasurable joy. While I fell off the Halloween train during my dark, lonely high school years, I was forced back on when I arrived at Oberlin. 

At Oberlin, Halloween is the party of the year. For many, it’s an open invitation to dress as ridiculous and/or risque as possible, get plastered, and then party as hard as you can in the biggest gathering you can find. With Obies embroiled in a ceaseless fashion arms race, Halloween becomes a fierce competition to see who can pull off the zaniest costume, hence the not one but two Curtis Sliwa cosplays this year.

My main gripe with Halloween is that, like the fun-hating Grinch I am, I’m rather ambivalent towards the whole dressing up thing. And yes, I know, boring boring boring. I suck. I suck so hard. I’m a loser. I should drop out. And believe me, I’ve thought about it, when I step out on Halloween night and find myself surrounded by expertly coordinated group costumes, exquisite paper-mache pieces and avant-garde, high-concept outfits all around. Not to mention that some of you freaks manage to come up with multiple costumes for each day of Halloweekend! My personal strategy is to assess the state of my wardrobe and throw together the most convincingly Halloween-looking outfit I can. Last year, I got away with wearing all black by dressing as a member of The Beatles circa 1961. This year, I managed to reuse nearly the same outfit pieces two nights in a row thanks to my expert resourcefulness.

Costume Schmostume. What is a costume if there is no one to see it? Hence the many, many Halloween parties. And what parties there were! Harkness Liquor Treat takes the cake for the most surreal party experience of my life: hundreds of people squeezed into the halls of your co-op of residence (iykyk), dim lighting, receptacles of extravagant mixed drinks lining the doorways, the inescapable roar of clamoring college students. I debated the moral and sanitary qualms of scooping your cup directly into a drink trough with a near-acquaintance, made hazily remembered conversation with assorted other near-acquaintances, dragged my friends through hallways and staircases containing inescapable enemies, kissed my former roommate on the cheek(?), and most importantly, sampled the wide variety of boozy treats that Harkness had to offer (shoutout to the hot pepper-infused shots of vodka).

While my other party experiences of the weekend were largely limited to awkwardly squeezing myself past hordes of people in various party locales, I have to say that I still quite enjoyed myself. Oberlin parties are, expectedly, pretty weird. While nearly all my high school friends attend a big state school with the luxury of seemingly unlimited bars, house shows, and frat parties, us small-town liberal arts students are forced to scrounge for whatever house/co-op party or show we can find. Thanks to Yik Yak posts and word of mouth, this leads to a rather awkward scenario where, like turkey vultures, hundreds of students descend upon what was meant to be a somewhat lowkey event, flooding onto the lawn, (probably) upsetting the neighbors and making navigation nearly impossible. This is even worse on Halloween, where the still-limited number of parties face peak attendance.

Does this suck? A little. While I’ve been blessed with a taste for stimulating social scenarios, many of my friends do not, and are forced to undergo all sorts of sensory attacks so that they may partake in a party. Oberlin’s overcrowded parties are part of its charm, particularly when the music is live and/or good. They’re also kind of repetitive. Too many times I have attended a responsibly crowded party only to watch it swell to unmanageable proportions. I dream of an Oberlin where one day there will be a healthy smattering of medium-sized parties to flit between. Until then, I’ll make do with my super-ultra-mega-deluxe overcapacity co-op parties. Rolf Smeby out.