Once upon a time, the new apartments were actually new. The Frank Family Science building harbored a multi-million-dollar new car smell, and a rumored billiards table or two existed for those who were inclined to play. Sodexho ruled the caf with an iron skillet, and professors and students in King had reason to worry about (possible) lead poisoning or asbestos inhalation. Bryan Hall housed athletes sans prison bars, and the concept of security cameras on campus was laughable to all but the most paranoid of students. For many students on campus, that Guilford is but a reverie. Even more are unaware it existed at all. To most, the Guilford of 2002 is hardly more than an ephemeral first impression of life away from parents, yet very close to red Solo cups and alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

Alas, even the significance of the Solo cup itself, a timeless symbol of promise and bounty on campus, is encroached upon by a new era in Guilford’s history: the era of the big-ass student body.

Guilford released its official enrollment data on Oct. 1, registering a total headcount of 2,641 students. This number is comprised of 1,387 traditional students (of which 406 are first-years), 1,159 adult students and 95 Early College students. Though this number seems relatively small in comparison to other collegiate headcounts in N.C., consider that in the spring of 2003, the Guilford’s student population amounted to only 1,778.

I’ve had the unique pleasure of experiencing this rapid growth first hand: I first entered Guilford as a high-school sophomore through the fledgling Early College program in the fall semester of ’02 and then stayed on for college in the fall of ’05.

Although Guilford has changed drastically over my school career, it’s been a journey of maturation.

And as the student population continues to expand (Guilford’s long-rage strategic plan projects that the number will climb to 2,830 by the fall of ’09), Guilford aggressively hires new faculty and staff to accommodate the growing number of eager young minds and unregistered vehicles on campus. The 15:1 student-teacher ratio remains firmly intact.

And with more students on campus and more money in coffers, new student organizations are always being introduced to accommodate expanding interests (skateboarding and parkour clubs represent!).

An ever-increasing population invites a plethora of different ideas and personal experiences into the community. The Guilford of ’08 isn’t as simple to classify as it might’ve been a couple of years ago.

I had a friend at UNCG that incessantly referred to Guilfordians as “stank-ass hippies,” and while there are certainly people on campus that proudly fly their own freak-flags, even my hippy-hating-friend would give pause when asked to characterize the present student body.

Though Guilford is famously liberal, a shifting political spectrum on campus is far from lamentable.

No one enjoys being pigeonholed. Conservatives on this campus used to be an endangered species (or at least an invisible species). I may curse Reaganomics until my dying, pollution-clogged breath, but I want this community to extend beyond the predictable. By all means, resuscitate the College Republicans and let’s get to sparring.

What I have observed, unfortunately, is a student body that is decidedly more docile. Well, docility can’t be bad, right? It’s a school steeped in Quaker tradition, after all. Typically, one hand can’t collect cans while the other’s igniting a Molotov cocktail.

While Guilford’s long history of social activism still endures, I’m afraid something has fallen by the wayside as the old Guilford transitions into the new.

As the community has reached record numbers, we’ve adopted a consensual view of what Guilford should be for everyone, and loud-and-proud activism didn’t make the cut fully intact.

I remember class-walkouts and protests along Friendly Avenue when Bush invaded Iraq, and rallies and speeches on the newly constructed Founders patio in the wake of the Brian incident.

During the quieter stretches of semester, there would at least be people camping on the quad in advocacy of fair trade or living in trees around the meadows in protest of parking fines.

And while even the most dedicated Che Guevaras of Guilford need to attend class every now and again, it wouldn’t hurt for us to revive that sense of urgency and activism. That’s not to say that Guilford students are dispassionate about or uninvolved in this community and beyond, but you don’t have to leave Greensboro to assemble peacefully (and perhaps, angrily).

Differences of opinion are the natural result of a changing Guilford community. As the headcount grows, so too does the probability of conflict. But if conflict and frictions are the growing pains of the Guilford community, activism and social consciousness are the deodorant and anti-perspirant for our smelly, maturing student body.

I fondly remember the Guilford of yesteryear. As we move into a new era of Guilford’s history, it’s time to embrace new traditions. But lest we forget in the face of these record enrollment numbers, Guilford is a community grounded in the intimacy of student relationships.

This campus is celebrated for its enthusiasm for challenging the status quo; let’s assure ourselves that we’ll never succumb to it.