It was interesting to talk about the intentionality of the do-it-yourselfers and dot-commers, subcategories of the creative class, in class. Using the example of the bike lane that Nicki mentioned, do-it-yourselfers and dot-commers seem to claim space because they have an entitlement to it as long as they identify with that particular community. Although the bike lane was intended to serve the biking community, it created a major inconvenience and safety concern for automobile drivers. It’s difficult for me to imagine a claim to space, regardless of intentionality, going unchallenged. There seems to always be a group of people or an individual who is negatively impacted by the spatial claims the creative class makes. Yet, the degree of tension can vary depending on the quantity of people demanding change. I would argue that spatial claims and spatial changes are oftentimes well-received when they are results of collective action. Individual claims to space and place can be interpreted as self-serving and exaggeration of privilege. This doesn’t seem to always be the case on Bowdoin’s campus. At Bowdoin, individual students and student groups are all entitled to particular spaces and rights (even though some students feel more entitled than others). For example, students asked for more 24-hour study spaces and Bowdoin accommodated for that. Another claim I, as well as some of my friends, would like to make is taking food out of the dining hall. The dining halls are very strict about how much fruit can be taken out of the dining hall and hot food cannot be packed in containers. It’s always been sort of a mystery for me because many students have classes that run through lunch hours and they are unable to make it to Express. It would be extremely convenient if students could remove food from the dining hall; however, the staff actively stop them. I’ve seen many students bring back food to their table and then pack it into plastic containers so that they are not caught by the dining staff. This to me is mind-blowing because taking food to-go is a privilege I think students should have. It’s also a healthier alternative to some of the Express options offered. Although I see many students packing 4 bananas or 10 extra pieces of chicken tenders, I have never seen someone address this issue. While taking food out of the dining hall may seem like an insignificant problem, it is a privilege that students should be able to claim. If our tuition is paying for the food that we consume, I think we should be allowed to eat the dining hall food wherever we want.

Taking food from the dining hall may be one of the many limits to a student’s ability to claim citizenship. Although certain accommodations can be made, the rules of the institution do not change. Neither an individual student nor a student group can change the rules that Bowdoin forces its students to abide by. That is the limit of students’ citizenship. I wonder where the cut off is for people in their community to practice privilege and claim space, or if there even is a limit.

After reading Boystown, I began to question the authenticity of space. What qualifies as an authentic space and what doesn’t? Can authenticity be temporary? In Boystown, the gay clubs and bars were part of the “safari.” People, predominantly women, visited Boystown because it partly fulfilled their fantasies and was a form of entertainment. I was interested that the atmosphere of the bars and clubs changed when straight women inhibited it. Spaces like “Manhole” seemed to lack its originality and authenticity because of the presence of straight women. Yet, in order for Boystown to be authentic there needs to be a certain level of exclusivity. Exclusivity is partially enforced by requiring visitors to remove their shirts or wear particular accessories; however, it fails to create an authentically queer space. As a result, I found that the queer spaces in Boystown were always moving or shutting down.

I couldn’t help but compare Boystown to social preservation. Boystown is becoming increasingly more popular amongst outsiders (heterosexual population) and this inherently pushes out the locals (homosexual population) or forces the locals to find refuge elsewhere. I align the heterosexual population going “on safari” to Boystown with the social preservationists. These visitors do not necessarily change the space but would much rather share the space with the locals in order to create authentic experiences. The homosexual population who frequently visit Boystown, the “old-timers” are used for the benefit of the social preservationists. Similar to a lot of other cities and neighborhoods that undergo social preservation, Boystown is not being preserved. Some bars and clubs in Boystown are marketing toward the outsider population (straight women) and providing the “safari” experience.

I have yet to come to conclusion if authenticity can exist within temporality. Throughout the semester we have discussed communities existing virtually and temporarily. For example, gaming communities are both virtual and temporal. Authenticity may not have to be associated with a physical space or a permanent community. Rather, authenticity may exist as more of an abstract concept. The straight women were disturbing the authenticity and originality of Boystown; however, the gay men were able to reproduce an authentic experience wherever they went as long as they were surrounded by people with common interest.