Breeze Perspectives: How old are you, Mr. Madison?
JMU’s centennial celebration based on fuzzy math
By Mason Miller, contributing writer
Posted on September 28, 2006

Today, we live in a world more uncertain than ever. Terrorism, natural disasters and the economic future of our country are just one trifecta of uncertainties. The uncertainties go even further, though. They are shaking the pillars of our logical knowledge. That’s right: numbers, the holy grail of truthfulness, have come under scrutiny. Even two plus two doesn’t always equal four anymore.

It seems to have started around the turn of the century. Numbers have become increasingly more illegitimate ever since those tense Florida nights in November of 2000. They’ve even started being accompanied by their new best friend, the asterisk. Just ask Barry Bonds’s home run total, or Justin Gatlin’s 100-meter dash time (thanks to St. Eroids, the patron saint of cheating). Numerical distortion has become an alarming familiarity, and not even the luscious lawns of our beloved institution are safe.

James Madison University is set to celebrate its 100th birthday in just over a year. Well, hold the phone. Before the frosted cakes, purple and gold balloons, and extra bags of lawn fertilizer are ordered, know this: James Madison University isn’t a day over 40! In fact, a case can be made that JMU hasn’t even hit 30!

Trying to pass as a soon-to-be member of Willard Scott’s centenarians club is one of the biggest numerical distortions of this millennium. It’s up there with such claims as North Korean leader Kim Jong-Il’s 11 holes-in-one in his first-ever round of golf and 76-year-old televangelist Pat Robertson’s ability to leg press 2,000 pounds (the competence of either above-mentioned athletes could be discussed, but that’s a whole other article).

So the university says it’s about to turn a hundred, being that it was established in 1908. That was the year our football team marched onto the field sporting jerseys with the letters S.N.I.S.W. sewn across the chest. For whatever reason, the school opted for the name the State Normal and Industrial School for Women back then. This probably means it was a powder-puff football game. At least the women, being industrial wizards, sewed their own jerseys.

So the university isn’t a hundred, but surely, you say, it’s close to it. No, not really. It wasn’t even called Madison College until 1938. We couldn’t even have a real football team until 1966, when the college progressively went coed. JMU, the three letters we have come to love, weren’t even an abbreviation for the school until 1977.

James Madison is pretty much trying to pad its age by 69 years or so, a slightly greater exaggeration than most fake ID’s. The question is, why does the university want to appear so old? I guess the answer is that JMU wants to look more regal and well-read. Make it seem like it’s steeped in tradition.

First of all, 100 years still isn’t that old as far as universities go. Assuming we were turning a hundred, Harvard would still have us beat by 272 years, or about how long it takes for ivy to grow to perfection. Second, JMU is missing out on the joys of childhood by trying to grow up too fast.

The university needs to embrace its youth, embrace the virility in its step. Instead of trying to masquerade as a senior citizen, lets put on some capri pants and skateboard around the Quad: Do a 360 grind around James’ statue. Let’s be the school with a pub on campus. We need to be proud of how much we have grown as a university in such a short time. But, even more so, we need to be excited about how pliable the foundations of this university still are. Let’s “Be the Change,” to borrow from the latest university slogan.

Next year is fast approaching. Some will remain adamant that it is James Madison’s 99th year. However, I will see it as his 30th birthday. Rather than drinking Ensure’s while lying on our Craftmatic adjustable beds, I say we celebrate like any red-blooded American turning 30 would — which will inevitably vary based on the nature of your imagination. I think we can all agree it’s what the gridiron gals of the State Normal and Industrial School would have wanted.

Mason Miller is a senior SMAD major.