This article was published in the October 5, 2016 issue of The Skidmo’ Daily, Skidmore College’s only intentionally satirical newspaper. The Bandersnatchers are an all male a capella group on campus.
Skidmore College has maintained its warm and accepting reputation for over a hundred years now. However, from (recent) personal experience I have learned that certain organizations on campus have been promoting discrimination to keep up their desired image.
We all have our guilty pleasures; they evoke the feel-good frivolity in us all. Up there with Keeping Up with the Kardashians, One Direction, and DJ Khaled are our very own crooning cuties, The Bandersnatchers. The synergistic effect that makes a bunch of 6s look like solid 10s1 is fully accepted yet somewhat eerie. Still, Filene always seems to be littered with launched bras and panties after every jam.
This semester, I decided to see what all the fuss was about. Because of my love for hard-hitting journalism and that good ole acapella, I mustered up enough courage (and Billy Joel lyrics) to audition for the original campus cuties themselves.
In my pants pocket sat my trusty tape recorder; the following is exactly how my audition went down:
The first person I see upon entering the room is junior Joe Doino, a good friend of mine. His eyes immediately narrow, conveying a judgmental confusion. This is probably because Joe has no idea I could sing.
“Uhm, are you lost?” an irrelevant member says. He was probably referring to my apparent mental state. I often reveal my spiraling uncertainty about my future and the means of my death through body language and facial expression.
Next, I decide to lay all my nerves out on the table. “I just want to be upfront here,” I state before taking a deep breath. “I think I’m a really good singer, and I would be a great fit for your ensemble, but honestly… I can’t snap.”
Silence. Looks are exchanged among the members, some stifling laughter, some rubbing their foreheads. I am humiliated. It is obviously a deal breaker. But before I can let them see my disappointment, I run out of Wilson Chapel, saying goodbye to who could have been my eternal family – my brothers.
Now that it has been revealed that The Skidmore Bandersnatchers do not believe in a learning curve when it comes to manual percussion, I wonder how many people will audition next semester. I would not be surprised to see a flood of prospective Accents or Sonneteers, ensembles known for their lack of snapping.
