Archbold gives off good vibes. This English class is vibey. Those two vibe as best friends. In the daily conversations of Choate students, the word “vibe” is dropped casually as a noun, an adjective, and even a verb.
Recently, in The New Yorker, the writer Kyle Chayka defined “vibe” as a “placeholder for an unplaceable feeling or impression, an atmosphere that you couldn’t or didn’t want to put into words.” Thanks to social media, “vibe” has become a ubiquitous slang — a linguistic phenomenon that encapsulates Gen-Z energy, or vibe, if you will. In a year in which nothing was normal yet everything seemed to be normalized, no single sentence can capture this year’s many discrete moments. So, inspired by Chayka’s work, here is an attempt at capturing, on paper, some of Choate’s ineffable feelings — its vibes — of 2021.
“Resisting the Urge to Shake Hands on Gold Key Tours” Vibes
Choate life has, in many ways, begun to feel a little more normal, especially given the arrival of outside visitors. Yet, as Gold Key tour guides take tours around the revitalized campus, the prohibition of handshaking widens the interpersonal distance. Safety precautions precede social courtesies, we repeat the mantra in our heads. The flustered retrieval of a half-extended hand is yet another reminder of our unfulfilled desire for the post-pandemic connection.
“Singing in Front of the Bathroom Mirror Alone at 2 a.m.” Vibes
Solo karaoke in the dorm at 2 a.m. is perhaps the definition of vibe in its verbal form. After being in isolation for so long, our survival mechanism seemed to have figured out the appeal of being alone. After the building has fallen asleep, belting out “Heartbreak Anniversary” in front of the bathroom mirror turns into a guilty pleasure, a defiance of society’s decree that a party must consist of more than two. For a moment, no inhibition looms over your mind — there’s only you and your reflection vibing into the night.
“A Rapidly Depleting Greek Alphabet” Vibes
An unusual symptom of Covid-19 is the depletion of the Greek alphabet. From Alpha to Omicron, we have already gone more than halfway through the alphabet by naming the additions to the Covid-19 family — the new variants. As Omicron put a halt on our post-vaccine freedom after winter break, we are now strung up with the uneasy vibes of a tightrope walker, fearing a fall at any moment. What happens when all the letters are exhausted? Our anticipation for the linguistic creativity of scientists is just another expression of our subdued hope.
“All Too Well (Ten Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)” Vibes
A centerpiece of Choate’s Red (Taylor’s Version) listening party in November, this loftily titled song is full-context, full-disclosure, full-emotions — just like the year 2021. The soft-rock ballad recounts a particular heart-wrenching relationship circa 2012, the year of its original recording — but now, this ache can also be found in the bonds broken and barriers bolstered by the pandemic. The extended cut’s unapologetic sprawl speaks to our 2021 vision of pain. As the song’s guitar fades out, Taylor Swift’s mellow voice lingers: “Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there / It was rare, you remember it all too well.” Yes, yes we do.
“Everything” Vibes
In the Internet Age, everything refers to something so precious that it’s all one could ask for. This mocha frappe from Lanphier is everything. The recital last week was everything. Faculty dogs are everything. This omnipresent shortcut, just like the word “vibe,” gets dropped in our daily lives like packets of syntactic sugar. That romanticism in our language reflects the way we humans placate ourselves even amid the harsh reality of the outside world.
