Gingerism on the Princeton Campus?

According to the Malleus Maleficarum, a treatise on the hunting and killing of witches, "Those whose hair is red, of a certain peculiar shade, are unmistakably vampires." While prejudices such as these have mostly faded since the treatise was published in 1486, two Princeton students still found the need to create the Redhead Society in 2004. Skepticism about contemporary prejudice against redheads is natural—and perhaps it is most easily found in the Presidents of the Society themselves. Instead of pretending to be a support group for a "Gingerism" epidemic on campus, the Redhead Society serves, at its best, as a forum to discuss the redhead experience, and, at its worst, as a University-funded social event.

One of the co-Presidents of the Society, Michael Smith '10, takes on a light and good-humored tone when discussing the club he runs alongside Clayton Sachs '10. In an interview conducted over email, he touched on every redhead stereotype, from his own fire-crotch to UV sensitivity. Smith wrote, "The Redhead Society holds events usually at night, or in the late evening, to prevent against deadly sunburn.  In the past, there was one high-noon-tea-party, but we lost many members, permanently. For now, we hold events to raise awareness among ourselves that we're actually red-headed. [...] I'm constantly defending my right to state-subsidized sunscreen.  Indeed, on a few occasions, by even trying to prove my need, I get slapped with an indecent exposure suit."

Slightly more serious members of the Redhead Society respond more straightforwardly—and honestly—when asked what exactly happens at this quirky student organization's events. Julia Weigel '11 described the scene in the Terrace TV-room as a mixed-color event, with red food and drinks. (There is a limited vocabulary one can use to describe the vague purposes of this organization; the verb "hanging out" was used more than once.)

The club's slogan—"Carrot tops are green, Einstein"—basically sums up the attitude the members take with regard to the Society. Most members speak of the organization affectionately, if not seriously. The rhetorical skills of whoever convinced the University that "Gingerism" was a problem are to be admired. But it could be just this outlook that attracts the club's members. Weigel was recruited to the Society at the Activities Fair by a redheaded male wearing very little clothes and a lot of red paint. Weigel remembers, "He didn't say a word but was very insistent that I sign up, so I did." This same redheaded fellow, whose name remains a mystery, approached Weigel a few months later when she dyed her naturally burnt sienna mane a dark brown. He loudly voiced his disappointment in what could be deemed a case of red-on-red violence.

In the year of its inauguration, the Redhead Society held fundraising events for skin-cancer and the like. Its current Presidents seem to enjoy playing off of redhead stereotypes just as much, but less productively. The Society seems like a fun, albeit slightly peculiar way, to get to know other students on campus with a common trait—something like the Asian-American Students Association and Acción Latina but more like the Texans Club. ODUS so aptly categorizes the Redhead Society as a "social" group on its website and there is no doubt that socializing is the organization's primary focus, though elevating the level of Twizzler consumption may be a close second.