When I\u2019m not writing this column at 2 a.m. the morning we go to print, working on other aspects of the newspaper or in class, you can find me in one of two places: the nearest Chick-fil-A (and not a campus restaurant either, because the experience just isn\u2019t the same) or Armstrong Hall.<\/p>\n
Three and a half years ago when I filled out my housing application along with my application for enrollment, I selected Keller Hall as my No. 1 preference. I had stayed in Keller for Honors Symposium, and I thought it\u2019d be studious of me to stay there my freshman year \u2014 surely there wasn\u2019t as much ruckus happening in Keller as there would be Armstrong.<\/p>\n
August 1 rolled around, and I was assigned Armstrong Hall.<\/p>\n
Now, three and a half years later, that\u2019s one of the few places on campus where you might be able to find me on a regular basis. After living there as a resident for one year, I decided to return for the next three as a resident assistant.<\/p>\n
While my duties include things like Yelling At Freshmen™ and being Chief Toilet Paper Dispenser at the front desk, I also get the chance to show prospective students around the dorm when they visit campus.\u00a0I\u2019m always excited to show them one of my favorite spots on campus, but by now, I pretty much know what to expect.<\/p>\n
\u201cWow. Interesting,\u201d says helicopter mom.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh my. These hallways look like a hospital,\u201d says smother.<\/p>\n
My response is usually something along the lines of, \u201cHaha! Well, he\u2019ll learn to call it home.\u201d But what I\u2019d like to say is, \u201cLook, Karen. I\u2019m the only one allowed to make fun of my dorm.\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s weird \u2014 I\u2019ve become ridiculously territorial of pile of bricks and the people that reside within. There\u2019s certainly nothing aesthetically appealing about the dorm that makes me defend my turf. And frankly, sometimes the people inside (you know who you are, first floor short hall) make me want to leave and never come back. But you\u2019re certainly not allowed to make fun of it.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s my territory, not yours.<\/p>\n
Something similar has happened with my car, too. She (Bessy) is old \u2014 not as old as Armstrong Hall, but she\u2019s old. A couple days ago, I was taking a friend for a spin, and he made fun of my radio system.<\/p>\n
Sure the antenna is broken. Sure the disc changer won\u2019t eject discs anymore, leaving me with parts one and two of Elton John\u2019s 40 Greatest Hits (which I am not complaining about, let\u2019s be clear). Sure I had to buy a $12 radio transmitter so I could listen to Spotify from my phone. Sure she still has a cassette player.<\/p>\n
She\u2019s vintage, thank you very much. And she\u2019s a Toyota \u2014 so, take that.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s my territory, not yours.<\/p>\n
I suppose a similar feeling occurs with Texans \u2014 with their oddly placed sense of pride in \u201cGod\u2019s country\u201d and their belief that everything is better in Texas.<\/p>\n
But it\u2019s their territory, not mine.<\/p>\n
If we look back at the earliest disputes documented in history, we\u2019ll see that many of these happened over territory; however, I\u2019m not sure they\u2019re worried so much with a mom\u2019s perception of living quarters as they are losing all they own to an invading army. The right to property is seen widely as a basic human right, and I figure following right along with that is someone\u2019s pride in their property.<\/p>\n
As civilization has developed, we\u2019ve seen claims to territory expand to include a person\u2019s endearment to a fast food chain or a national sports franchise. The scope of territory has changed, but the pride attached to it certainly hasn\u2019t been abandoned.<\/p>\n
So, the next time you get up in arms because your Philadelphia Eagles lost the biggest game of the season, I\u2019ll try to be a little more understanding. After all, it\u2019s your territory, not mine.<\/p>\n
And next time Karen from Atlanta visits Armstrong Hall, I hope she\u2019ll realize the place is more than just brick and tile \u2014 it\u2019s someone\u2019s beloved territory.<\/p>\n
I wave my yellow flag high in resistance to you, Karen. Don\u2019t tread on me!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When I\u2019m not writing this column at 2 a.m. the morning we go to print, working on other aspects of the newspaper or in class, you can find me in…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14705,"featured_media":11115,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[78,25],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11358","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-columns","category-opinions"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11358","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/14705"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11358"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11358\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/11115"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11358"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11358"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thelink.harding.edu\/the-bison\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11358"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}