Don’t trust the chatter about “making an impression” during the first few weeks — a first-year would like nothing more than to be inconspicuous. Speaking from personal experience, a first-year wants at the very least a grace period of six days in which he or she may fumble with lunch trays, forget to bring coins to the laundry room and ask where Paces is, and at the very most he wants an invisibility cloak with GPS. But inconspicuous first-years aren’t. Turns out, in fact, they’re being watched.
Not stalked, per se, or even gazed at longingly, but watched by a large cross-section of Swatties called “Cygnet shoppers,” who use the Cygnet to pick out potential dates and hook-ups to pursue. By virtue of its prevalence, Cygnet shopping earned itself a place in the online Encyclopedia Swarthmoreana, household-name status on most of the campus and legions of followers, skeptics and detractors alike.
“The Cygnet is the only book Swatties read for pleasure,” said Eric Zwick ’07, a RA in Mertz. “Of course, RAs always Cygnet shop. We get Cygnets way before anyone else, and that’s the best part of the job.”
Joking aside, many students do have a positive opinion of Cygnet shopping. First-years laugh at the idea of the practice — perhaps with a wary look of almost believing it might actually exist — and upperclassmen willingly admit to it.
However, some believe the craze of Cygnet shopping is slowly being swallowed up by an easier, more accessible and equally anonymous custom: Facebook shopping.
“Cygnet shopping is a myth,” said Cailen O’Brien ’09. “Everyone uses Facebook these days.”
And indeed they do. A quick browse through Swarthmore’s realms on the popular networking site and some offhand addition reveals that 1317 students or about 90 percent of Swarthmore has a Facebook account. How many use it for the same purpose as so many use the Cygnet?
A casual shopper helped explain: “In the Cygnet you only get one picture. I mean, on Facebook, you get something like 50,” said Chris McKitterick ’09.
Now, thanks to the highly contested addition of the Facebook News Feed, shoppers don’t have to look far if they want to find a new picture of their quarry. And, as any Facebook fiend knows, nor must they look far to find out if he or she has joined a new group, listed a new favorite band or become friends with anyone else.
“Facebook is only creepy because of the News Feed,” said Kathy Ackerman-Alexeef ’10. “But you can use anything to stalk anyone if you really want to. You’re putting yourself out there [on the Internet].”
Whether it’s a sinister menace to your privacy or a useful networking tool, it’s hard to claim that Facebook shopping — or Facebook stalking — isn’t making the Cygnet the least bit obsolete, especially given the bad rap the handbook gets for its selection of pictures.
“The Cygnet is a bad judge because nobody has good photos,” Ackerman-Alexeef said. “My Cygnet photo made me want to cry,” O’Brien said.
Then there’s the issue of the faceless first-years. “Yeah, pictures are misleading,” Zwick said. “But you always have hopes about the people who don’t include any.”
Those 40 students, illustrated in the Class of 2010’s Cygnet by four quaintly multi-ethnic cartoon children (two of whom are bafflingly clad in MC Hammer pants) holding hands around a globe, may be the lucky ones. But perhaps in a day and age where the Cygnet’s stalking power is waning fast, it’s good to be among the last.
