*The Backdoor is a “work” of “fiction” and “satire.”
By Lauren Keegan
The weather may be getting cold, but a hot new trend is on the rise at LC: being a sellout. The Lacroixford English Dictionary defines selling out as, “compromising one’s morals or abandoning a cause for the sake of success or material gain.” As a disclaimer, it is important to clarify that this definition of selling out does not apply to what a freelance artist would consider selling out, i.e. having their art shown at a function that wasn’t in someone’s basement. This popular shift toward disposing of ethical preoccupations is reserved for more serious corruption, such as selling your cousin’s social security number to some guy you met at a bar who plays squash with a recruiter at McKinsey & Company in a desperate attempt at getting an interview.
Researchers are still unsure as to how this trend arose. Some postulate that the pervading apathy of LC students is a great foothold for selling out to gain traction. Others hypothesize that it is an urge, lying dormant in every college student, seeded early on by the College Board’s theft of a piece of the student’s soul via AP exams and the SAT.
The debate surrounding the origin of selling out continues, but it has been confirmed that the administration’s sale of LC’s beloved independently-owned bookstore to a multi-million dollar Fortune 500 company under lofty promises of increased student resources and not losing money is what has sparked the recent uptick in LC students becoming total sellouts.
While this new trend may seem tenebrous, alumni have found success in selling out in virtually every major offered at LC––Raina Johnson ’13, a Biology major doing research on the advancement of chemical warfare; Leland Porter ’10, an International Affairs major working as an analyst for Fox News; Carmen Strauss ’08, an Environmental Studies major working for Exxon Mobil––all prime examples of recent graduates making the college (and FDR’s ghost) proud by casting away their dreams of engaging in fulfilling humanitarian work to auction off their integrity for a sweet, sweet paycheck. Oftentimes, students believe that the idealistic but still relatively realistic goals for humanity that their major outlines are what will keep them from becoming sellouts. Ironically, this blind faith in the intrinsic goodness of people is the exact type of morality that selling out preys upon.
Despite the growing popularity of selling out, many students are aversive to this ethically questionable trend. “How dare they lessen the severity of their convictions for marginal financial stability,” Lisa Edwards-McCrary, ’20, said of students who have indulged in selling out. “Losing copious amounts of money is the LC way.” When asked if this statement relates to the sale of the bookstore, Edwards-McCrary responded, “Absolutely. Even if the bookstore was bleeding thousands of dollars of tuition money every year, I don’t want late-stage capitalism getting into MY liberal arts education.”
In the face of this disapproval, sellouts are abundant and thriving. Backdoor reporters sat down with Julian Beauregard ’18 to hear a firsthand account of how he became a sellout.
“Essentially anyone can do it.” Beauregard said. “It requires a lot of prowling Handshake for interviews, subscribing to Portland Business Insider and most importantly, cutting out your soul and uploading it to your LinkedIn profile to put yourself at the mercy of whatever third-tier consulting firm is willing to stoop low enough to give you an offer.”
If you are a sellout or have aspirations of becoming one, be sure to contact the administration prior to graduation, as you may be eligible for a solid gold diploma frame.