By Annarose King, Staff Writer
Editor’s note: this article was originally written in October 2020, before the student-led strikes at Haverford and Bryn Mawr temporarily refocused editorial attention. We hope our readers will enjoy these articles reminiscing on spookier autumn times.
It was Saturday, October 17, the height of midterm season, and stressed-out Bryn Mawr students lined up at the tent outside of Denbigh Hall. The most intense questions they discussed were not about the value of all-nighters or how to cram amidst concerns of COVID. Upon getting in line, everyone came across the same stumbling block: would a white pumpkin or an orange pumpkin be better for painting?
One student thought that, while white pumpkins were better for painting, orange pumpkins were better for Halloween. The stress was so thick, you could cut it with a knife, and then use the knife to carve the pumpkin of your choice. If, that is, we had been carving pumpkins instead of painting pumpkins. There were also worries about what, exactly, to paint. A white pumpkin held all the appeal of a new, fresh canvas, while an orange pumpkin was adorable in its spooky autumnal flair. Yet thinking of what to paint was like projecting a square work of art onto a round gourd—mentally mapping out The Starry Night onto the winter squash of your choice.
A member of the Dorm Leadership Team, clipboard in hand, checked my name off on a list. I arrived at the front of the line, at the check-in table, where two other dorm leadership students were ready to offer help. There were tubes of paint displayed on the table, a surplus of supplies from other painting activities. The already-opened bottles were the easiest to squeeze onto a paper plate. You could take two paintbrushes, as well as paper towels and a cup of water to clean your brush off.
The two cartons of pumpkins were to the right of the table. A small pile of round white pumpkins merged with a heap of flatter orange ones, all shipped from Autumn Harvest Pumpkins, a mini pumpkin farm in Oregon. One of the students sitting behind the table, her hair tied back a red bandanna, solved my dilemma of which pumpkin to pick. She said I could choose two pumpkins, either one white and one orange, or two orange. I just couldn’t pick two white, as they had fewer white pumpkins. I choose both. Whether you’re deciding between two pumpkins or two different slices of pie, both is often your best bet.
The music taste of Denbigh’s Activities and Orientation Assistant set an upbeat tone for the pumpkin painting. She put a speaker on top of a nearby chair, and started playing “Who Let the Dogs Out?” Sure enough, a dog and her owners walked by us a few minutes later.
I went over to the tables that stretched under and outside the tent. The tables spanned Denbigh Green, all the way from the dorm’s main entrance to the doors on its right side. Chairs were spaced out six feet apart, on alternating sides of the tables. No worries about socially distancing here! All my energy could be solely devoted to painting my pumpkins, and calling out to my friends who were sitting further down the table from me. Messy as painting a pumpkin was, it was soothing to dab my paintbrush into my splatters of paint, and coat my pumpkins in vibrant colors. “Ghostbusters” and “Thriller” played over the speaker. Whether you painted polka-dots or stripes on your pumpkin’s curved sides, you were sure to be satisfied with the result.
After the event, I contacted Mary Beth “MB” Horvath, the Director of Student Activities & Orientation, to ask a few questions about her role in organizing it. “It is something we usually do in the fall,” she said. “I wanted to do it again, and after the success of some of the other events on campus this semester, I thought I would plan it and see how it goes.”
When I asked if she had encountered any COVID-specific troubles during planning, Horvath confessed that “honestly, measuring out 6-foot spaces is weird. I’ve done it before, as we’ve had other events this semester, but it’s just not something I would do in a [regular] year. I was also at the event, which is also something I wouldn’t do in a non-COVID year. The AOAs are very capable of running events, and while they did run it, I needed to be on campus because it was a large event that exceeded our COVID event capacity limit.”
Horvath also expressed her worries about student participation. “There’s so much uncertainty this semester for everyone and everything. When you buy 300 of anything you really hope that people will want to participate. But with the current situation, it really is uncertain if people will feel comfortable participating in person, and I totally get if they don’t. I’m glad it was successful—people attended, painted pumpkins with their friends, and were able to take a break during this stressful time.”
My final question to Horvath was about her choice of pumpkin, and her response—true to her character—was thoughtfully compassionate. “I took one of white pumpkins because they were larger, and I will eventually paint it teal. Teal is the color of food allergy awareness, and a teal pumpkin signals to parents who are taking their children trick-or-treating that non-food treats are available,” she said. “This is important for children with food allergies, and it means that instead of staying home they can participate. This year will be different of course, but I will have prepackaged little bags ready to go for the neighborhood children to pick up in the driveway while I wave from the porch!”
It’s comforting to know that many faculty and students are putting in so much effort to give us a break from the daily stresses of college during COVID times. They give us the opportunity to lapse back into normalcy, if just for a moment. Even though the world is seemingly collapsing around us, we can still paint pumpkins.
Image credit: Annarose King
