Cojones de Santa Fe

June 25, 2012

Once upon a time there was a college on St. Michael’s Drive called the College of Santa Fe. It attracted unsuspecting youth like myself from far away locales to the weird desert haven of Santa Fe. I remember writing home to the family and friends I left behind, attempting to convey the wonder of my new experience:

“I feel like I’ve met everyone I ever wanted to meet in life, and I’ve only been here for a couple of days.”

The initial drive to the campus was one of the most aesthetically appalling tours of my life. Big box store after big box store after car dealership. Where the fuck was I, and why?

But the old and inexplicably captivating culture of the college and the city quickly healed the traumas of Cerrillos and St. Mikes. CSF was an island of critical discourse, artistic experimentation, boundless revelry, and kinship– a constellation of human liberation I never knew was possible, until I was doing it.

The college still lives, despite the arduous Frankensteinian drama that preceded its resurrection into what is now known as the Santa Fe University of Art and Design. The University’s resources are more extensive; the student work is exceptional and ever-improving and evolving, BUT, I must say that CSFers were generally quite a bit ballsier and more actively anti-authoritarian than the current students.

I will sleep just a little bit more peacefully at night when I see SFUADers giving their problematic administration a run for its money, when they start making art in the streets, when they turn the campus into the creative autonomous zone it once was, and make their expression its monument. The beating heart of Santa Fe deserves nothing less, and I believe the students can revise the culture of their environment if they try.

Posted by: alysha shaw