This weekend, Binghamton University is set to unveil an imposing statue of a snarling, clearly steroid-abusing bearcat in front of the Events Center. The idol, depicted in the Sept. 20 issue of Pipe Dream, is a metallic monstrosity.
There aren’t too many things on this planet more permanent than a statue. Choosing to erect one on our campus, or anywhere really, is a decision that deserves serious deliberation. This statue seemingly did not receive any of that.
When this fierce faux-feline (it is a feline, right?) assumes its position outside the Events Center, ready to intimidate opponents at any moment’s notice, what’s it all going to mean? What is the student body’s — current and past — connection to such a symbol? Well, in our opinion, there is none.
Simply put, the bearcat logo is a trite, meaningless symbol. It was a focus-grouped product of those who believed its catchy and alliterative nature proved adequate enough to be the new face of our school after transitioning to Division I sports 10 years ago. The bearcat bears no connection to Binghamton University or the city itself — the mascot is forced.
It’s not like we don’t have pride in our D-I sports teams (we gladly dedicate half our paper to them) or root against our school’s progress in general. Some changes really alter our school for the better, and we support them with open arms. The bearcat mascot is not one of those changes.
The fact that the statue’s unveiling is on alumni weekend is ironic. If the statue lacks symbolism and meaning to the current student body, a group who has actually attended BU as “bearcats,” what’s it going to mean for the alumni who were “colonials?”
In last year’s alumni issue of Pipe Dream, Matt Mendesohn ‘85 said upon returning to Binghamton, “There are a lot of people wearing shirts that say ‘Bearcats,’ which is just downright silly, considering we are the Colonials.” His mentality is one that is presumably echoed by many of his contemporaries, and if sweatshirts grind his gears, then our pretty little statue won’t do much to assuage his discomfort.
That being said, erecting a statue of a school’s mascot is not an uncommon practice and it can be done tastefully. Take for example the University of Maryland, whose mascot Testudo resides in the middle of campus. It’s rubbed by students for good luck before sporting events and even final exams. The Testudo statue has deep-rooted meaning and is rich with tradition.
But our steroid-induced Baxter is no such statue. Perhaps in 2051, this statue might come to mean something, but for now it’s a glorified gargoyle. For better or worse, it will soon find a long-term home in front of the Events Center.