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Haverford's Changing Customs

by Erin Moran '00

The Customs Committee has long been a fixture on Haverford's campus, but it has not always provided the benevolent, comprehensive orientation it is known for today. For the last quarter century, Customs People have served as big brothers and sisters who attempt to ease the home-to-college transition of first-year students and coalesce this diverse group of people into 'Fords. A key job of the Customs Committee has been to choose and train these student advisers and to organize Customs Week.

The 1947 Customs Committee

Sixty years ago, however, the Customs Committee resembled fraternity pledgemasters more than resident counselors. Made up of three seniors, two juniors and a sophomore, the Customs Committee comprised a prestigious group of athletes and campus leaders elected by their classmates. Although officially charged with maintaining the "traditions" of the college, their primary duty was closer to that of the Hazing Committee they replaced in 1924: keeping the freshman, or "Rhinies" as they were affectionately known, in line. ("Rhinie" was supposedly derived from the mythical Greek word for "small green worm" -- a constant reminder to freshmen of their place at Haverford.)

Such were the good old days, when every neophyte was expected to have a match for an upperclassman's cigarette and to step off the sidewalk to allow his elders to pass. Failure to do either of these could land a Rhinie in front of the Customs Committee, as would the inability to recite college songs on command or the failure to wear one's "dink" (beanie) and name tag. Punishment for errant Rhinies ranged from wearing silly costumes to ringing Founder's bell after sports victories to being sentenced to a week of waking up the seniors in Lloyd with the day's weather, headlines, sports scores and breakfast menu.

What the Customs Committee was really looking for, however, was talent for the Tuesday Night Follies, a weekly tradition performed at dinner from September through Thanksgiving in which wayward Rhinies with musical or dancing talent were forced to perform for the rest of the college. Especially talented Rhinies could expect curtain calls nearly every week as a result of some infraction or another. (After Thanksgiving, students had to settle for the usual food fights, table banging, and the ever-popular sport of butter-pat hurling for dining room amusement.)

Steve Cary '37, who served on Customs Committee from 1934-1937, claims that the purpose of the Committee during his tenure was to bring the freshman class together as a unit, to keep especially obnoxious Rhinies in their place, and to amuse the rest of the student body. At the time, there was no freshman orientation, no introduction to the honor code, and no resident advisors for the freshmen. And since 1904, when Isaac Sharpless discontinued the use of proctors to ensure discipline and order in Barclay, the only authority within the dormitories had come from the sophomore class who lived upstairs, a less than benevolent source at best.

Thus there were only a student's fellow classmates to help him through those first trying months at college from September to Thanksgiving, when Rhinies were finally allowed to shed their beanies and name tags. The only hope prior to that holiday was the freshman-sophomore fight, an annual early-November skirmish on Walton Field which challenged the freshman to tear off every stitch of sophomore clothing in the allotted two minutes. The freshmen, of course, tended to win the fight, since many sophomores considered themselves to be above such activities by the time they reached their second year.

By the 1950s, the Customs Committee displayed an increasing economic savvy in devising their punishments. Forgetful Rhinies not wearing their beanies as they entered Founders for dinner were now simply charged a dollar for the oversight. This practice was a quick way for freshmen to get to know one another, since every time a new student wanted to get to his room, he would have to wait for five or ten classmates to join him in order to get past the gang of sophomores hanging around the entrance of Barclay to grab beanies off lone Rhinies. Involuntary swims in the duck pond and headshavings also came to be preferred methods of "indoctrinating" less than deferential Rhinies, as well as late-night "drop-offs" at lonely spots along a much more rural Main Line.

As the College moved into the 1960s, Customs gradually metamorphosed into an orientation program. The freshman-sophomore fight became the freshman-sophomore Olympics (now the dorm Olympics), with events ranging from soccer to card games. (Haverford Athletic Director Greg Kannerstein '63 still remembers losing a crucial table tennis match during the Olympics his freshman year.) The purpose of Customs changed as well: from uniting the freshman class to integrating first-year students into the college community. What had once been a college divided by class year became more inclusive of the entire student body. This shift would culminate in the program students recognize today, with extensive orientation activities and Customs People living in frosh dorms.

By most accounts, the evolution of Customs into its present form was a choice made by students and administration in response to a changing world and a diversifying college community. The need for a more comprehensive introduction to the goals of the college became increasingly apparent as the incoming freshman classes grew larger and more ethnically, religiously and geographically diverse. In addition, as the College entered the era of student protest and political action in the late 1960s and early 1970s, few upperclassmen were interested in keeping rigid separation between the classes. The pranks and antics came to be seen as archaic and unnecessary, and it was no longer deemed appropriate to treat the entire freshman class as though they were pledging a fraternity simply by enrolling in the College.

Still, what senior today could honestly say he or she would not like to be awoken every morning by a lowly Rhinie armed with the weather, headlines, sports scores and Dining Center breakfast menu?