Though the university has incorporated it into the institution’s recognized traditions, Story Tree remains largely “owned,” used, and perpetuated by the students. The student body originally made the tree their own and continues to remake it as their own by proliferating new practices. Through various offerings and hidden practices, students consistently reinforce this site as a place of resistance and internal student culture–as their own.
Story Tree is more than just a tree. For more than 100 years, this craggy old Live Oak tree has persisted in the student body’s collective memory as one of Southwestern’s more secretive and magical hangout spots.
When newer students ask as to its location, more senior students often say, “Sorry, you’ll have to find it for yourself!” If students never hear about this location through the grapevine, they may not even know of its existence at all. And if you go looking for the tree where this pin is, you won’t find it. By not identifying the tree’s location, we’re honoring the student-generated traditions around the tree.
For those who know, Story Tree is a multi-layered place that serves as a location for myriad past, present, and future student practices. Some, on Valentine’s Day, go to the tree with organic compost offerings in hopes of changing their romantic luck for the better. Others, on Halloween, exchange ghost stories at the site, or come at the tree with a tentative fear, as it has been rumored to have its own haunting effects on its visitors. Before parting with Southwestern, some seniors make a final trip to the tree, leaving offerings at the base of it in exchange for good luck with postgraduate life. Some organizations, such as Zeta Tau Alpha, have a similar visitation practice among their senior class every spring, where they gather one final time to reflect on their experiences at Southwestern with one another.
On less momentous days, Story Tree largely serves as a place for students to visit alone or informally gather. Many alums recall elaborate superstitions and rules for approaching and leaving the site as well as interacting with the tree, such as departing in the same direction you arrived from and never looking back, never looking up at the tree from under it, and surrendering any object you mistakenly leave there. Today, climbing its knotted trunk and limbs or sitting under its wide canopy of branches, students either whisper secrets to the tree or share their stories with one another at the site. As they do, they create new stories with each other then and there to be told later on.
For many years, the stories and practices associated with Story Tree were passed on by word of mouth only to trusted friends. Now, some of these practices are promoted on the university website, but the range of different practices associated with different campus individuals and groups indicates that students who know the tree retain some of its secrets for themselves.
In 2000, Story Tree was recognized by the institution through a plaque at the base of the tree, sanctifying the site as an institutionally-official place for “celebration, recreation, and education.” The presence of the plaque and its emphasis on preserving the tree’s legacy both point to a tension between the vibrancy and volatility of evolving student practices, and the desire of the university to preserve practices as well as those that seem to generate on their own.
Though the university has incorporated it into the institution’s recognized traditions, Story Tree remains largely “owned,” used, and perpetuated by the students. The student body originally made the tree their own and continues to remake it as their own by proliferating new practices. Through various offerings and hidden practices, students consistently reinforce this site as a place of resistance and internal student culture–as their own.
