On Oct. 5, roughly 30 students gathered around a conference table in Kresge scattered with newsprint and flyers. An undergrad in a Franz Kafka T-shirt sat next to someone wearing a purple polo and a heavy silver watch. Students traded anecdotes on Kellogg studies and bemoaned midterms. The only semblance of a leader was a guy with a somewhat official-looking clipboard. They were all there to start a revolution.
Well, maybe not immediately. But at the first meeting of NU Socialists, they talked about work around the world to overthrow the capitalist system. At a time when thousands are occupying cities across the U.S. and popular uprisings are throwing out autocrats in the Middle East, the possibility has never seemed more real to them.
“More people than ever are thinking about these questions,” says environmental engineering graduate student Lauryn Flizeer, who organized the first meeting of the group.
She may be right. Gallup estimates President Obama’s job approval ratings are at an all-time low of 40 percent. For some, it’s the continuation of two wars. For others, it’s our still-flailing economy and the looming threat of post-grad unemployment. Those who have long been in the political minority have a new opportunity to gain legitimacy among a potentially disparaging Democratic majority on campus.
“Maybe it wasn’t the George W. Republicans who were the problem,” says registered Democrat and Medill senior Josh Freund. Freund sees a growing discontent among his peers. “Now we have a Democrat in here and it’s still a problem. Maybe we need Ron Paul,” he says with a laugh. He’s only half kidding.
Sophomore and Republican Laura Rollick isn’t laughing. She thinks Ron Paul is exactly what we need. But at Northwestern, it’s a position she’s grown used to silencing. “I feel like everyone here thinks they share the same political beliefs,” she says. She remembers an instance in class when a teacher said Sarah Palin was a disgrace to womanhood. “Everyone in the class laughed except for me,” Rollick says.
While she wasn’t nervous about attending a predominantly liberal-leaning school, having had mostly Democrat friends in high school, her parents were less sure. Her once-conservative brother had returned from college with two arm tattoos he’d designed himself, a coat of black dye over sandy-blonde hair and newly liberal beliefs to match.
“[My parents] were more protective of me after my brother’s views changed so much,” Rollick says. “They would slip it into a side conversation that Northwestern is a really liberal school.”
She managed to find a like-minded community in NU Students for Life. With 11 steady members, they’re trying to revive a once-dead club and start conversation on the issue of abortion. While Rollick says most students are polite, they’ve heard a few snide remarks at the activities fair (“Pro-life club? Seriously?”).
But despite her involvement, Rollick still has a hard time speaking up when someone makes a comment against Catholicism or Christianity. She’s worried about “forcing her beliefs” on students who seem to disagree.
“I feel guilty, but sometimes I just ignore [disrespectful remarks]. I should stand up for my beliefs,” she says. “I’m not being true to myself or God.”
Joe, a Communication junior, has always welcomed the rare opportunity to speak out about his libertarianism—everywhere but the office, that is. He asked to be referred to by first name only, as he fears for his paying job at a legal website.
“If they knew I was a libertarian, I’d be much more likely to be fired for small mistakes,” he says.
But in the classroom or the frat house, Joe says he has at least one substantial political debate a day. He comes by it honestly, with a Republican father (who refers to Joe’s views as “asinine”), a Democrat mother and an aunt and uncle who are a socialist and a diehard conservative, respectively.
Political discourse is something of a tradition in his family. They debate the death penalty and reasonable doubt over lasagna before turning on a Chiefs game.
“Republicans and Democrats both propose solutions that assume government can solve problems. I, as a libertarian, disagree with that premise,” says Joe, who says he’s not an anarchist, but he’s “pretty damn close.” Beyond limited national defense and the rule of law to protect property rights, Joe sees little that can’t be more effective if privatized.
“I sound extreme, but when you look at how it plays out in practice, I’m not that different from a lot of people,” he says.
Most people still think of libertarianism as a fringe group, or a college novelty you might try out. “I’ve been told [by my mom] that I do it for attention,” Joe says. “She’s wrong.”
Self-described “third-world socialist” Christopher De Notto is used to the same disregard for his political standing.
“My dad just finds it funny,” De Notto says. “He thinks I’m going to learn someday when I have to find a job in the real world, [that] socialism doesn’t work in the way you imagine it will.”
But as this Bienen senior sees it, you can’t have capitalism without neo-colonial oppression. The only solution is to throw out the whole system. That’s the difference between him and his Democrat counterparts.
“The most fun is when you have a left winger who thinks that they are the epitome of leftism and liberalism,” De Notto says with a somewhat mischievous enthusiasm. He says he has yet to come across someone further left than him. “[Democrats] still aren’t going far enough in their goals. They’re almost being hypocritical saying that they support American workers when they support a system that perpetuates oppression.”
He understands his more extreme views are hard for many to accept. But if he can’t create a socialist majority at Northwestern, he can at least work to move past the debilitating crazy college liberal stereotypes.
“If you can’t convince people to our side, at least convince them that we’re not Joseph Stalin, or not stupid Che Guevara T-shirt-wearing individuals,” De Notto says.
For political minorities on campus, it’s a goal that may be closer now than ever before.