Photo by Emma Wright These sweartshirts have caused a huge controversy on campus. What do you think about them?
Close

You know the saying, before you judge someone else, you must first walk a mile in his or her shoes?

Well, how about in a pair of basketball sneakers? Or better yet, in a pair of cleats — you know, the ones with the big metal spikes? Now throw on some kneepads and slide on a Speedo. Don’t like Speedos? Well, then I’ve got a singlet that’s just your size.

Perfect. Now let’s talk.

The life of a Binghamton student-athlete may not be what you envision. In fact, I can safely say it’s not at all what you think.

But the thing is, not one student-athlete expects any other non-varsity student-athlete to understand. All we ask for is a little respect.

And perhaps a little more support. Know those black sweatshirts that have caused such a stir on campus? I’m sure you’ve heard by now. They say “athlete” in capital letters on the back (oh, the horror!).

The athletic department did not fund the sweatshirts. In fact, they had nothing to do with them. The money was given by the NCAA. Also purchased were 10 brand spanking new laptops, so when the student-athletes have to write a 15-page paper on a noisy bus that feels more like a boat ride, they have the means to get it done.

The sweatshirts were handed out last Tuesday, when almost the entire student-athlete body sat cramped in the Mandela Room for four hours, writing letters on behalf of a benefit for St. Jude’s hospital. We wrote over 6,800 letters — the most ever written in the region. But it’s the sweatshirts that got the publicity, not the community service.

Back to that idea of “support,” you know, school spirit? Binghamton University has maintained an apathetic attitude towards sports, even before the school turned Division I. The Student-Athlete Advisory Committee felt that in order to gain support from the student body, we must first support each other.

Bring in the sweatshirts, designed to be worn at the Game of the Week, another idea to gain attendance and muster support. They were to be a form of symbolic and visual camaraderie.

But I guess only the sororities and fraternities can wear sweatshirts with their letters on them to show they are a part of greek life.

I’d also like to point out that athletes are required to fulfill a Physical Activity or Wellness GenEd, in addition to completing 20 hours of practice per week. Anyone have an extra yoga mat?

Senior softball player Rose Barre registered for English 114, Meanings of Love, but was told by the professor to drop the course immediately. Why? Because she is an athlete.

Woohoo for special privileges!

And just for kicks: since mid-October, when our fall season ended, I’ve woken up every morning at 6 a.m. and was in the gym by 7. I’ve run until I thought I could not possibly move my legs another step (or, and I quote, “running as fast as [I] can”). And then did three more suicides. I’ve benched more than I weigh, and can probably squat Santa’s sled. Breakfast is in the Events Center. I like the table in the corner. It’s nice for naps before my classes, meetings and individual hitting sessions. There’s also time in the Training Room to tend to my ulnar nerve so I don’t lose complete mobility of my pinky finger. I’m home by 9 p.m. — on a good day.

And this, mind you, is during softball’s “offseason.”

Did I mention that most teams are required to keep at least a 3.0 GPA? We’re student-athletes, not athlete-students. We sit through the same classes you do. We take the same tests — only sometimes, it’s in the lobby of a musty hotel the night before a conference game with our coach hovering over our every move. When the test was given in class, we were on a 12-hour bus ride to Maine. PAAAR-TAAY!

From class to practice to class to practice, it’s more than just a game. It’s our life. Is it hard? Yes. Is it stressful and time consuming? Yes. Is it well worth every ounce of sweat dripped and every minute of sleep lost? You bet your ass it is.

See, the thing is, when we’re done, “shooting a ball through a hoop or hitting a tennis ball with a racquet,” we graduate, too. And we compete with you in the real world to get the real job. There’s no game in that.

So why now, must it be a competition? Why must the student-athletes be resented? We are Binghamton University students, just like you. And when we’re traveling to compete with other schools, we represent more than just our team or our athletics program — we represent you, the Binghamton students. Just like when the crew team, a club sport that works feverishly to be the best they can be, represents us when they compete, too.

We are Binghamton University. Not just the student whose research earned Binghamton national acclaim. Not just the professor who has deservingly earned tenure, or the athletes on the intramural and club teams that love the same sport we do, and not just the sororities and fraternities that organize fundraisers and throw some of the best mixers I have ever been to.

It’s more than that.

It’s when a couple of athletes helped raise money for Binghamton’s Heartbreakers, a benefit organized by Alpha Phi. It’s when a professor wishes a girl on the volleyball team a “congrats” for just winning the conference. It’s about all that you do, and all that we do. Together.

Cause it’s all about respect.

It is more than just the sweatshirts. It’s about unity — amongst the student-athletes within the student body.

Being a Binghamton University student-athlete is an indescribable feeling. But it is, by no means, a superior feeling. It is a feeling of pride. It is a feeling of appreciation to still be able to play the game we’ve loved since our moms and dads and coaches first taught us how.

To play, today, is not a privilege. It is an honor.