For those of you who know me, I often lament about Masons lack of community and identity.

I used to think that we were still working off our image as a commuter school and with a few more years of construction and on-campus residential growth, we would have the same kind of cultural cohesiveness that exists at most other colleges. It wasnt until I talked to a 1964 Mason graduate that I realized Masons inability to create an identity for itself doesnt come from the number of students liv ing on campus or the absence of a football team; it stems from something deeper. In an effort to start a discussion about our beloved university, Ive written this short essay that sum s up some of my thoughts. Masons Identity Crisis An open letter to George Mason University By Frank Muraca As a student journalist, its my job to learn about George Mason University and communicate that knowledge to students, faculty and community members in a way that is understandable and connects them with the university. Ive written about a lot of things over the past year everything from presidential candidates visiting campus to mold growing in our dormitories. But after a full year of storytelling, I was most excited by President Cabreras efforts to draft a new vision for the university. At any university, a change in leadership often brings up important reflective questions. Cabrera wanted to begin a dialogue with Mason about who we are and where we were going and I was excited for both the discussion and to share it with our community. I must admit, however, that I was disappointed with the outcome. After a series of town halls to gather university-wide input, Cabrera released a vision that defined us as an institution, rather than a community. We were presented with a vision that highlighted Innovation, Diversity, Entrepreneurship and Accessibility all noble values that truly speak to our creed. But I felt there was still something lacking in the Mason IDEA. A vision serves dual purposes; it provides a roadmap for our future and frames that map within our values and identity. And thats exactly what the new vision attempts to do! Innovation, diversity, entrepreneurship and accessibility should be resulting traits from an institution that understands itself. But these values do not build community; they reveal it. So while I am grateful that President Cabrera made the effort to begin a dialogue on the future of Mason, I think we need to first have a broader discussion about who we are as a community. As a rising junior, Ive been struggling for two years to be able to express my frustrations with Mason as a community more than a university, more than an institution, more than a group of buildings a community. Something that has soul and that you can feel when you walk onto our campus. A community that incoming

freshmen feel they can grasp on to and call home. After two years of searching, I still havent been able to find any signs of it. I used to blame our lack of community on the fact that we were still shedding our identity as a commuter school. While we boast nearly 6,000 on-campus students, a majority still travel to school, takes classes, and leave. Surely this must be the reason, I thought. How can you form a community when most students dont even live there? Isnt part of a college community defined by the interactions that happen outside of the classroom? Absolutely. But a community is something that is deeper than our interactions both in and outside the classroom. And while only a fraction of the total undergraduate population lives on campus, 5,700 residents isnt a shy number. Others would argue that a community requires a rallying point like a football team, and that starting a program would instill the kind of camaraderie thats more visible in other universities. Historically, this has been true with our basketball team. Mason alumni often associate the 2006 NCAA tournament, when Masons basketball team advanced to the Final Four, with some of the most energetic weeks on campus. But are whole communities really defined by the performance of their sports programs? Virginia Tech has an extremely powerful culture surrounding its football team, but that same culture would still exist without a successful sports team. While football may be a large part of Techs campus culture, it doesnt define what it means to be a Hokie. As a university, we look to the future because we dont have much of a history to look back on. There are no hollowed grounds where George Mason used to sit and write. Some would think that our adolescence limits our ability to create any kind of identity at all. I disagree. We dont have to be defined by centuries of history. But while community has an interesting way of popping up in unexpected places, it has to have foundation. For many colleges, that foundation is its history. But for Mason, it will have to be something else. In the same way, we dont have to be defined by proximity to Washington D.C, a reason why so many students come to Mason in the first place. Some universities, like Virginia Tech or James Madison University, are forced to create rich communities on their own because there simply isnt anything else around them. In many ways, our university should understand this more than most. Mason was created under the identity of another institution, the University of Virginia. I was born and raised in Charlottesville, Virginia, a city that is perhaps most well known as a community that houses Jeffersons university, a higher education institution that is venerated for its founding father. The values and ideals of this Virginian are heavily engrained into the intellectual culture of the university and the surrounding community. Needless to say, you can feel the sense of community that exists in Charlottesville. It has an identity, whether you are attracted to it or not, that is deeply defined.

This isnt to say that George Mason University should try to replicate what Charlottesville has taken almost 200 years to create. On the contrary, weve already worked to further separate ourselves from Charlottesville after we became an independent institution in 1972. Though George Mason was not our universitys founding father, we have certainly worked to be associated with him. His statue is one of the most memorable points on campus, and weve adopted his commitment to freedom and education. In many ways, weve built an image on his history without becoming dependent on it. And while that is commendable for a university as young as ours, it hasnt been enough. Today, weve resorted to priding ourselves on an institution that isnt bogged down by long histories marked by ivy-covered columns. Instead, weve built ourselves around the idea that anything is possible if we use innovation to blaze our own trails. And yet, I think establishing innovation as our tradition is exactly whats blocking us from creating an identity for ourselves. Innovation implies an environment of change and ease of surrendering past customs. In most cases, innovation is applied to technology, in tweaking technology to become more productive or to serve another purpose. And innovation is certainly a great thing! Its whats moved us from the Model T to the Lexus, or the record player to the iPod. But for all the greatness of innovation, it doesnt really define whats most important in a community: people. Im certainly not the first person to talk about this issue in the Mason community. Over the past year, Ive heard hints of this discussion through the articles Ive written about Mason. Most recently, a student who was protesting upcoming renovations to the on-campus late-night diner, Ikes, said: I think that in order to build a deeper sense of school spirit and tradition it is paramount that the university takes actions to maintain memorable parts of the George Mason experience for all students, past and present, to identify with. This is also an issue that has been discussed from the very beginning of Masons founding. A 1964 Mason graduate who was editor of the paper during her time here said: It just seemed to me that if each of us, in our own way, made an effort that there would be a bridge between what we had done there and what we were going to become. Its not that they had to remember us its that we wanted to reach out and touch them. It seemed like we should make a difference. I think we all wanted this time to be remembered and to be important and to be a foundation of something. But I dont think any of use really knew if that would happen. Part of what makes a community is the feeling that when you come here, you can leave something that will have a lasting impact - something that might even last for hundreds of years. But its hard to create that feeling at a university that is so willing to cast away what it has built in the name of innovation. We want to make a difference at Mason, at our home. But the university is so temporary in nature that its hard to know that anything will last. The simple fact is that there is no way for us to even know what Mason will be like in five years, both physically and culturally.

Weve never been encouraged to go out and build something that would stand as a lasting pillar for decades to come. It seems as if many students feel unattached to Mason, because they arent sure what to attach themselves to. I dont have the answer for how to create a community at Mason. Our identity is deeper than our sports teams or the number of students living on campus. Its something that binds us together to an institution that teaches us how to grow as individuals. Innovation is a commendable value to attach our identity to and keeps us flexible in a changing world. But perhaps our flexibility is what makes it hard for students to feel nostalgic about Mason. Its difficult for us to attach ourselves to an institution that is in a consistent state of flux. While I do not know how to solve the problem, I know that Masons students and faculty crave a stronger community. In fact, our sense of community is stronger now than it ever has been in the past. According to an annual survey conducted by the university, a mere 39 percent of students felt a sense of belonging at Mason. That number has since jumped to 78 percent in recent years. But there is still work to be done, and we can start by acknowledging the problem.