Partly Cloudy, 64°
Far be it from me to complain, but I think this is a conversation that we need to have. It can be really tough to be a famous person on Brown’s relatively small, 6,000 undergrad campus. You may know me as a celebrity, but I’m also a student, who is trying to live and learn here just the same as you are, and I’m also a person, who has a right to some level of privacy.
I get it. You see me and say, “Holy shit, that’s Kent Smith. That’s really him. Wow. Holy shit. That’s Kent Smith. Holy shit.” I’m not blaming you for that. I’m blaming a culture that prioritizes celebrity status over personhood. Before you snap a quick picture of me to forward on to your friends, professors, or extended family, think about what Kent Smith the 21-year-old kid would want you to do, not what you think Kent Smith – Brown University’s resident superstar deserves.
It’s not like I came to Brown expecting to almost instantly become the most recognizable face on campus. Sure, I had been a big fish in a little pond in high school, but I expected I’d blend in once I got to an Ivy League university. Instead, I’m a much bigger fish in a slightly bigger pond, and while it’s great that people are always excited to see me, and cry out my name with excitement when I pass them on the street, it can be a little much to be stopped and asked for autographs when I’m studying at The Rock, and it’s embarrassing when the Blue Room cashiers insist on giving me all my food for free. I’ve made millions with my fame! I’m not the one that needs help!
Fame is a gift and a curse, and I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t ready for it. Some of the blame has to fall on me. At the first signs of my budding celebrity I did nothing to dispel the ideas that I was an exceptional member of the Brown community. On the contrary, I was more charming and charismatic than ever! Now every undergrad at Brown expects me to be stunningly put-together 24 hours a day and it’s exhausting. While other students get a free pass to wear pajamas to class and skip a day’s shower, if I wear the same sweater twice in a month there’s a one hundred percent chance I’ll read about it the next day in the Herald. That’s a lot of pressure!
And look, I know our current student government is a joke, but when 90 percent of you wrote my name in for UCS President in last year’s election it crossed a line. I had gone on record saying that I didn’t want to be UCS President! How anyone could blame me for not taking a job I never wanted is beyond me.
It’s hard to believe I’ve gotten this far without even mentioning the barrage of Brown admirers posts heaved my way every day. It’s nice that there’s a space where students can compliment each other, but it feels like 40-50 percent of the posts are about me, complimenting me on my impressive height, rugged good looks, or soft-spoken eloquence. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but that’s too many. I’m not a spectacle, I’m not a sexual object, I’m a human being.
Next time I make a comment in class, feel free to disagree with me (this applies to you too, professors). After all, I’m just like any other Brown student. I’m just like you.
