Defining “Camp Trin”

Talia Cutler ’27

Executive Opinions Editor

It’s a phrase I have heard all too often on campus. “Camp Trin” evokes images of a lakeside summer camp free from academic expectations and full of tan and hedonistic children. I didn’t realize that to some students, that is exactly what Trinity College is. 

The problem with forming an opinion on “Camp Trin” is that what it represents is not closely defined — although many have tried. To sum it up to the best of my ability, it is a rich upper echelon of “preppy” students who do not need their degree — they are a breed that treats college like a four-year formality, and so they may as well have copious amounts of fun before they end up working on Wall Street or at Fox News. 

In September 2006, the Tripod ran two articles about that ever-sticking moniker. The first was titled “President Jones Decries ‘Camp Trin’ Epithet.” “Last Tuesday, President Jimmy Jones addressed the faculty on matters of importance, including his vision of Trinity. Jones called for “the formal demise of ‘Camp Trin'” wrote Daniel Zauderer ‘10. In particular, President Jones emphasized in his speech that “camp” is an unfit label, as it undercuts the “intellectual ethos” of Trinity’s campus. Personally, I am not certain I have seen a whole lot of intellectual ethos here, unless you can count watching Pike brothers do mathematical gymnastics to figure out how to round their heights up to 5’ 9”. The rejection of the name and call for its deconstruction displayed shame from President Jones. This shame was shared by the administrative community, with one anonymous professor even denying that any such culture at Trinity existed. 

But other members of Trinity disagreed. The second article, interestingly enough, was titled “Reclaiming Camp Trin” in which “camp” was recognized as a term of endearment. “Decrying the Camp Trin culture is not tantamount to condemning alcohol or partying in general. Instead, it’s about re-establishing Trinity as a community in which the intellectual atmosphere is not limited to the classroom or the lecture hall,” said Matthew Milner ’09. In fact, the name “Camp Trin” has begun to be used casually. In the past, news articles have claimed the nickname casually, and “Camp Trin” shirts are available for purchase online.

 Personally, I find value in this sanguine interpretation — Trinity offers a different kind of liberal arts experience. It is no haven of hipsters sequestered to some upstate suburb. I would even say that Trinity College is the closest one could get to a state college experience without teetering over a 2,500 person enrollment. We take pride in sports, we have Greek life and are located in an urban setting off-campus. This is, in essence, what makes Trinity truly unique — we have a prominent social scene outside of academics. Yet, we still see that barrage of students who come to Trinity for the stereotypical liberal arts experience — playing ukulele on the quad and taking classes analogous to Underwater Basket Weaving 101. Herein lies the contention for “Camp Trin” — when a school offers such a polarizing environment, how can we decide how to interpret its image? 

Eighteen years later, the Trinity campus is still in a love-hate relationship with the sobriquet (can you tell I am running out of synonyms for “nickname?”) However, I think that viewing “Camp Trin” as a Trinity-specific phenomenon is ignorant and inaccurate. We are not the only institution with these ultra-preppy values. Does every college not have a bit of a “Camp” culture? If you walk onto Yale’s campus, it would take 10 minutes to find some hapless undergrad whose parents paid their way in, allowing them to party every weekend as they coast through classes with a C average. To more prestigious institutions, this sort of student is a stain — an embarrassing backdoor admissions practice. Yet at Trinity, this class of student is seemingly celebrated by its student body — encapsulating an identity. In this way, “Camp Trin” culture is symptomatic of a larger problem in higher education, where privilege and social status often trump academic merit.

No matter how it is quantified, “Camp Trin” is undeniably created from a place of privilege, and its very existence marginalizes students who cannot afford to live the “Camp Trin” lifestyle. These are often scholarship students, first-generation college students or students of color. 

As much as we crave to quantify this culture on campus, it remains simultaneously elusive and unchanging throughout its years of prevalence. It clearly contradicts itself among the Trinity community. We must acknowledge that the term is not a simple, one-dimensional concept. To some, it is a casualty of privilege, a system of marginalizing those who cannot afford a new Canada Goose jacket every winter. To others, “Camp Trin” is a medium for enjoying college life to the fullest. If “Camp Trin” lends itself to a sense of pride in extracurricular fun, then good for you. However, there comes a danger in forgetting that this is “Camp Trin” for some — but not for all.