Why I felt like an alcoholic this Wildcat Welcome
Hi. My name is Kevin Sullivan, and I have a problem.
Hi, Kevin!
I’m not going to lie; it’s surreal being up at this lectern, looking down on others who share my addiction and are brave enough to share. I really don’t know where else to begin except the beginning. I didn’t know I was an alcoholic until this past week, Wildcat Welcome, and all I wanted was a drink with my friends.
If you had told me last Monday that I’d be standing here today, I probably would have laughed at you. “I’m not an alcoholic,” I would have said. “I simply enjoy an occasional, casual drink in appropriate social situations.” It wasn’t until my eyes were opened that I saw that what I consider to be an appropriate social situation can be the foundations of a problem.
A restless field of chatter filled Ryan Auditorium as a Wildcat Welcome staffer took the stage in front of the peer adviser trainees. We had been there for a few hours, and the topic’s discussion seemed inevitable. The infamous alcohol contract is one of the first things you learn about your job as a peer adviser. It hadn’t been discussed in detail yet, but those very same details are my reason for being here today.
“As you guys know, there is a strict alcohol policy for all Wildcat Welcome staffers. When you break up into your small groups, your peer coordinators have alcohol contracts for you. The contracts state that for the entirety of Wildcat Welcome, you will neither be in the presence of alcohol nor consume alcohol. And guys, this really isn’t that big of a deal. I mean, if you can’t go a week without a drink, you have a problem.”
It made complete sense. It was a week without drinking. I’ve done it before without even trying. Plus, they made an excellent argument. My advisees could need me at a moment’s notice and I needed to have my wits about me. They deserved a great adviser that could be there for them. It was why I volunteered for the program in first place. I wanted to help people, give them the transition from high school to college I wished I had. They deserved my best effort.
Leaving that training, I felt confident in my ability to honor the ink on the contract and keep to my promise, but would it really be an indication of a problem if I just had one drink? That question kept bothering me after the meeting, but I was determined to keep my contract. It was the responsible thing to do. Come September, I would be ready to give these baby Wildcats a proper welcome.
After a summer of manual labor, nothing could have been a more welcome change of pace than a week of freshman orientation. I was ready and willing to be the best peer adviser I could be. The only thing standing in between me and my responsibilities was four additional hours of extra training. The same sentiments from before were echoed.
“Just to remind you guys, you guys signed the alcohol contracts, promising you wouldn’t be in the presence of alcohol during the duration of Wildcat Welcome. Seriously, you guys, if you can’t go a week without a drink, you have a problem. That’s what CAPS is for.”
That last sentence struck me immediately as blatantly wrong. That is not what Counseling and Psychological Services is for. CAPS is for people with real problems, not peer advisers unable to go a week without drinking. That sentiment seemed to demean and lessen the seriousness and importance of the services by CAPS. I tried not to let it bother me.
The beginning of Wildcat Welcome went by smooth enough, aside from that safe I had to carry to the fourth floor North Mid-Quads (I wish I was joking). I met my advisees, and they were exactly what I was hoping for: eager kids excited to start the next four years of their lives. They were the type of kids I joined the program for, and the experience was entirely satisfying. It was near the middle of the week when I discovered my problem.
I wanted to drink. My friends began moving into my house. I had missed these people all summer, and with the stresses and responsibilities of new student week, all I wanted was to relax and share a drink with my old gang. It seemed like an innocent desire, but the words echoed in my ears.
“Seriously, you guys, if you can’t go a week without a drink, you have a problem. That’s what CAPS is for.’
It was spelled out clearly by the staff of Wildcat Welcome: I had a problem. Not only did I have a problem, I needed psychological help. I was an alcoholic.
It’s kind of jarring saying that. I’m an alcoholic. It’s one of those lows you never think you’ll reach, a compulsion to drink.
But wait.
It wasn’t a compulsion. It never was a compulsion. I didn’t need a drink. I simply wanted one. Does that really constitute a problem?
Now that I think of it, all of the talks and reminders of the contract never talked about want, only need. There was no gray area. Either I needed a drink or I didn’t. There was no room for want, but that’s what it was, and last time I checked, CAPS wasn’t for people that occasionally wanted a beer. CAPS is for people with actual problems with compulsion to seek help, not for light social drinkers.
Maybe, I’m not the one with the problem. Maybe Wildcat Welcome has the problem. Everything in the contract made sense to me, but when it came time to relate it to peer advisers, it got lost in translation.
Wildcat Welcome is a great program, and the alcohol contract is well-intentioned. It just has some problems it needs to work through. And as we all know, step one is admitting you have a problem.
I’m going to go have a beer.
Now that Wildcat Welcome is over, drink a manly drink. Or you can return home.


Kevin you were a great PA!
Avery
September 23, 2009 at 7:22 pm
I second that! And apparently you’re funny, too.
Julia
September 23, 2009 at 8:03 pm
I third that sentiment! Go have a drink anytime you want, dude. You deserve it.
Nicki
September 23, 2009 at 10:32 pm
Actually, I think the CAPS reference served it’s point perfectly, just as you pointed out. It showed the difference between “need” and “want.” That is, if you “needed” to have a drink, thus unable to go without drinking for one week, then yes, you have a problem. If, however, you just “wanted” one, then the contract was in place to dissuade you from acting on that. The point was not to call you an alcoholic for “wanting” a drink, but it was to say that if you did have such a want and could not deny it in order to follow the contract, then you are not right for the peer adviser role and should seek help. Is it demeaning to say that someone who is completely powerless to deny his “wants” should seek services?
I also find it funny that you cookie-cut and de-contextualize the comment, which was clearly used in a humorous way during the training. If I remember correctly, most of the Peer Advisers understood the obviously intended over-dramatization and actually laughed at this remark– something that I’m very surprised a great comedian as yourself fails to appreciate. Apparently they needed no translator.
RWF
September 23, 2009 at 11:43 pm
To Kevin Sullivan,
It is with great regret that I have to respond to this, and in a defensive way. Let me start off by saying that the writer, Kevin Sullivan, was in fact one of my own peer advisees when I served as a Peer Adviser my sophomore year. Since then, I have served as a Board member on the Wildcat Welcome Board of Directors, spending hours of my time coordinating a program that I believe has as incredible influence on freshmen; I have committed my entire collegiate extracurricular career to this program.
Here’s the kicker: I, Shane Michael Singh, was the one who said the objected comment nearly eight months ago in a Peer Adviser mandatory information session. As a Board member, I am 100% confident in saying that the comment emphasized above was not said in the all-staff intensive training (as lead on) but instead in February 2009.
I made the comment as a joke to make an obvious point that if you cannot resist drinking for the sake of a JOB, then there’s a problem.
Albeit, I won’t comment on Kevin’s job as a peer adviser (because I have standards, unlike the writer who decides to write an op-ed piece about his disagreements instead of coming to the Wildcat Welcome professional staff with them before or AFTER he was hired) I will say that a no-alcohol policy for peer advisers is in the best interest of freshmen. It’s not about “being social,” but instead “being responsible.” I’m not lying when I say that during the week, there were instances when freshmen were lost or abandoned at some off-campus social event and the person they turned to for help was their peer adviser. I know that sounds inflammatory and canted, but it’s true: We ask Peer Advisers not to drink because they are resources, not because we want to force them to soberly enjoy the company of their friends.
According to Kevin’s Facebook profile, his 21st birthday is September 21, 1988–meaning if he drank during Wildcat Welcome, he would have been underage. Kevin, it is common knowledge that at college, many people drink underage. But for you to DEFEND UNDERAGE DRINKING as a student leader, when you are supposed to serve as a mentor to freshmen who may have no interest in the activity…it’s sickening.
From the February call-out to the all-staff intensive training, you had plenty of time to resign as a Peer Adviser because of your inability to abide by the alcohol policy. Instead, you harvested feelings of contempt and are attacking a University program–and me–someone who refrained from drinking so that he could be available to you whenever you needed him your freshmen year.
I regret saying that you’ve not only disappointed me as one of your peers, but your school’s administration, as well as yourself. “I didn’t need a drink. I simply wanted one.” You have defined yourself as a person too blinded by wants to understand the reality of necessity.
Shane Mihcael Singh
September 24, 2009 at 2:37 am
My bad. Kevin’s Facebook birthday is actually September 29. Sorry, I’m dyslexic.
Shane Michael Singh
September 24, 2009 at 3:15 am
I think the writer’s point is that he wishes wildcat welcome would focus less on unimportant rules and regulations and focus more on what should be its main purpose: connecting with new students. Seems to me that wildcat welcome could use more people who see this as their most important goal, rather than more people who spend all their time defending the rules of the institution like Mr. Singh and seemingly no time improving the system. And it looks like Kevin did a pretty good job of connecting with his advisees, from the above comments, whereas it looks like the relationship between Mr. Singh and his former advisee Kevin is nothing but negative. Interesting.
Brendan
September 24, 2009 at 2:53 pm
Why so srs?
Woah.
September 27, 2009 at 11:40 pm
Kevin, I dont think the New Student Week policy was turning the concept of drinking into a black and white issue. And I don’t think it overlooked the fact that, sure, college students may want to have a few drinks. But the response to Peer Advisors wanting a drink during new student week was implicit… and that response was “TOO DAMN BAD!”
I have a job. It is the implicit assumption that, when I am there, I will not consume alcohol. IF I could not go through work without drinking, then I would have a major problem.
As a peer advisor, you had a job. It was a one-week job. You were on the clock 24 hours a day for the one week. Sure, you were not working non-stop for a week, but you were expected to be in a position in which, if you needed to perform your job, you could. And if your boss felt that having a drink would impair that ability, then that is the way it goes.
There are sometimes when it is worthwhile to question authority. Other times, it makes one look like a brat. This article is an example of the latter.
Anon
September 28, 2009 at 4:24 pm
I respect and admire Kevin for his approach in dealing with the aforementioned “That’s what CAPS is for” comment.
I think the point Kevin is trying to make is not that he is an alcoholic and that he could not resist temptation to drink for one week for the sake of his job, but rather, that people in positions of authority who are responsible for training people like peer advisers should not joke about a serious problem like alcoholism– certainly when it is such a prevalent issue on college campuses.
This is not to say that we don’t all make light of serious issues at certain times, but there is a time and place. Shane Michael Singh’s comment demeaned the seriousness of alcoholism. Just as his comment above demeaned people who suffer from dyslexia. You don’t make light of people with serious drug addictions; you don’t make light of people with physical or mental handicaps; and you don’t make fun of people who suffer from alcoholism. You just don’t. As a member of the board of directors, Shane should understand this.
I do not believe that Kevin disappointed anyone with what he has written. He is simply pointing to a problem that needs to be fixed. This is one of the most important responsibilities journalists have, and I think that Shane, as a Medill student himself, would appreciate that instead of retaliating with a scathing and defensive reply.
Shane’s problem appears to be that he is unwilling to take ownership for what is clearly an offensive and unwarranted comment, and is instead deflecting the issue back to Kevin.
Tom Mota
October 1, 2009 at 12:29 am
Shane clearly took ownership of the comment, but PUBLICLY CLAIMING IT AS HIS OWN. I don’t think there’s a more profound way to claim a statement as your own.
And in response to Shane’s comment, particularly the point about Kevin’s birthday, there seems to be only one set of words fitting:
Owned.
Ben R
October 1, 2009 at 6:12 am