Clean, Old-Fashioned Hate

Many, many years ago (shortly after dinosaurs roamed the earth), I enrolled in and completed a degree (or two) at the Georgia Institute of Technology (informally Georgia Tech or just Tech for those who think or feel that GT is the only engineering-focused school worth recognizing).  I had left a Tree behind and instead was looked forward to embracing a Yellowjacket named Buzz -- GT's adorable mascot.  

It didn't take long after I arrived on campus to become aware of how intense the rivalry was between (engineering focused) Georgia Tech and (liberal arts focused) University of Georgia (aka Georgia for those that think or feel that the land grant institution represents the entire state's higher education system).  For starters, I had a roommate from Athens, Georgia (where the University of Georgia is located) and it appeared that I was disliked from the moment I moved my furniture in the door -- presumably due to my "lifestyle" but likely more to do with the fact that I had just moved from Silicon Valley and was immersing myself in more tech culture by pursuing a graduate degree in electrical and computer engineering.  I was one of those urban, tech people -- which seemed to automatically place me in enemy ranks.  

Not surprisingly, the roommate situation didn't last very long and after six months, I moved on to rooming with fellow software and electrical engineers and engineering students-- urban techies.   My new housing situation allowed me a much needed escape from my previous situation where walking in the door seemed so often to be greeted by animosity.   On campus though, there was no such insulation from the UGA-GT rivalry.  Even in the bowels of the cleanroom, the rivalry simmered, gradually building during yet another frustrating football season (at the time, GT's football team specialized in roller coastering from brilliant to dismal and back again) to the annual late autumn rivalry game.   

The prelude to the annual football rivalry game was more than just talk about football and chances of wining -- it was an opportunity to hear a wide range of sarcastic remarks and jokes about the relative inferiority of UGA compared to GT.  Many of my fellow engineers and techies had a less than respectful view of liberal arts programs, often to the point that they didn't understand the point of liberal arts majors at all. Their attitudes toward liberal arts were compounded by the rural (UGA) vs. urban (GT) campuses that pitted those living near farms against those living next to skyscrapers (and horrendous Atlanta traffic which successfully dampened the charm of the city on a regular basis).  

During the annual rivalry game itself, the animosity between the students from each college in the stands would reach its peak.   It was intense enough that many of us made sure that we walked on the opposite side of the street to students from the opposing team and steered well clear of those who had a tad too much alcohol and were indulging in feeding the fray.   

Oddly, it wasn't until many years after I graduated that I became aware that the bitter and intense rivalry between UGA and GT had been coined "Clean, Old Fashioned Hate" by author Bill Cromartie in the 1970's to the tune of 611 pages in a book exploring, describing, and embracing the rivalry.  "Clean, Old Fashioned Hate" implied that two teams that hated each other could still be sportsmanlike as they competed on the football field. And that they could continue being nice to each other after the game no matter what the winners said, no matter what the losers felt, and no matter what the referees had done.   

A little unrealistic, eh?

Having moved to Washington state a few years after graduating from Georgia Tech, I ran into similar animosity between urban (and wealthy) Western Washington and rural (and not as wealthy) Eastern Washington.  The rivalry between the University of Washington and Washington State University never rose to anywhere near the level of what I had experienced in Georgia -- likely because it's impossible to "hate" a rivalry game called "The Apple Cup".  I was content with a rivalry game where I could cheer, yell, and scream for my team without ever dipping a toe into anything remotely resembling hate.  

It wasn't until 2024 that the term "Clean, Old Fashioned Hate" started to really rock my boat.   In an era where hate could be manufactured from almost nowhere and lead to mass shootings in schools, multiple casualty hit and runs in the cities, and a political climate that made healthy, functioning government a pipe dream -- I just couldn't stomach the word "hate" applied to a football game.

How about Clean, Old Fashioned Fans? Clean, Old Fashioned Football?  Clean Old Fashioned Branding that doesn't include Hate?

Can we please dispense with the word hate and come up with branding that allows the rivalry to stand while also hinting at bringing people together rather than pushing them further apart?

I know.  That's just sooooo unrealistic and idealistic.  

protecting the vulnerable

Last night, my husband and I had a friend over for dinner.  The conversation among the three of us lasted long past Taco Tuesday fare and a somewhat strange choice of dessert.  In fact, I don't think I've ever had tacos and chocolate mousse together in one meal, and I blame myself for not choosing a more suitable combination of foods. Fortunately, I don't think the odd mixture troubled anyone at the table except for me.   

But, I digress (as usual). 

During almost four hours together, we covered a substantial amount of food and a broad range of topics. The evening felt both refreshingly normal and strangely unusual. To be able to talk about so many things freely without judgement or anger making it impossible to consider how others see and process the world-- seems to have become an unfortunate rarity at the American dinner table. 

At one point, our freely meandering conversation wandered into the "luck" that both men at the table had enjoyed in their careers in terms of both financial and professional success.  Before I could stop it, the words "white male privilege" jumped out of my mouth, unimpeded by any level of censorship that I might have imposed on my words if I had stopped to think about what I was saying. 

To my surprise, there was no angry or hostile response.  Instead, I had the pleasure of hearing a clear acknowledgment of that privilege. Even further to my surprise, our friend/guest expressed a sense of responsibility for caring for and protecting those who lacked such privilege, particularly women.  My husband often speaks to how much he would like to protect me and see me protected from the perils that accompany being a woman in engineering.  To be in the presence of two men who thought that way -- temporarily left me speechless.  

It made me wonder why I was so shocked by the lack of anger and hostility in the room and left me doing a deep dive into thinking about Who is actually responsible for protecting the vulnerable in our society and What they should be doing and Why it has become offensive to talk about Who and What.  

I am often distressed as to why so many Americans seem to have lost sight of our collective, community obligation to speak up for and protect the vulnerable.  Although the United States still rates highly in terms of generosity in terms of both time and money (#6 in 2024, according to the World Giving Index), it seems like we have an increasingly narrow idea of who our vulnerable populations are.  

Somewhere along the line, we have forgotten that vulnerable populations are everywhere -- even in the affluent United States.  And, by extension, we are all vulnerable in some way, shape, or form -- although some are much more so than others.  Instead, we seem to have created sharp, dividing lines between the vulnerable and the privileged or powerful -- and have acquired the habit of withdrawing our compassion for those who are vulnerable once they speak out in their defense.  So many now make quick judgements about which side (privileged or vulnerable) a person is living on -- before even listening to their story and understanding their experience.

These stark lines of division vary from person to person, from community to community -- so much so that we can't seem to talk about it anymore, much less work toward broader protection of and compassion for anyone who is in need, regardless of their race, ethnicity, immigration status, sexuality, gender, etc.  Protecting the vulnerable is not a monthly check donated to a food bank, a regular offering to the unhoused, a credible book on racism read and reflected, a training class taken -- even though these things are all important. Neither is protecting the vulnerable a task meant only for the privileged to undertake. Instead, it seems to me that knowing Who the vulnerable are, What do do about it, and understanding and seeking to overcome the Why it has become offensive to talk about such things -- has to be addressed at a more granular level:  Everyday Living.

I can benefit from and most certainly should adopt an everyday habit of paying more attention to vulnerability. I need to understand that just because I am part of a vulnerable group, I also enjoy immense privilege.  And I need to leverage both vulnerability and privilege to become a better citizen and a more caring friend.  

All too often, I get stuck in one corner and neglect the other.   Much as I would like to push all the responsibility of protection onto privileged white males, I shouldn't.  Much as I would like to ignore the vulnerable because I enjoy privilege, I most certainly shouldn't.   

So thank you -- friend and dinner guest.  I bet you had little idea that one comment could trigger someone to jump into such a long rabbit hole of reflection.   

But that is, after all, what introverts do.  

It's not just me.... I think there may be other, far more credible and knowledgeable authors who speak to protection of the vulnerable.  Such as: 

We "... must be vigilant in protecting and supporting all communities, including the most vulnerable among us.  We have a special obligation to protect children, whose victimization ripples through families, communities, and society at large.  Likewise, elder abuse, fraud, and neglect remain urgent problems in this country, particularly as the COVID-19 pandemic ushered in a new wave of exploitative practices targeted at seniors... Gender-based violence, including domestic violence, dating violence, sexual assault, and stalking, cuts across socioeconomic, racial, and geographic lines.  In addition, low-income communities, LGBTQI+ communities, communities of color, people with disabilities, non-citizens, and victims of human trafficking face disproportionately high rates of victimization." 

"People should speak out for the poor and vulnerable, and ensure justice for those who are being crushed."

"I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."

As I wrote this, I felt an all too familiar sense of embarrassment and hypocrisy because I am not living up to my obligation to protect as well as I should, could, or can. My audience here is one. I am preaching to myself.