Ah, the Jewish dream of the Ivy League college experience. Eating bagels and lox on the freshly cut sod of a New England campus on a crisp, autumn Sunday. Jewish freshmen brushing shoulder to shoulder with other well-groomed, preppy recruits of some multi-lettered Greek house on fraternity row. Debating Moses Mendelssohn's and Immanuel Kant's alternative perceptions of Judeo-Christian doctrine with a renowned professor by quoting from verses learned in one's limited Hebrew school experience. Building architecturally beautiful Hillel houses and life centers so that Jews, too, should feel at home in a secular environment.

Do the above stereotypical scenes resonate with any familiarity in our minds? There was once a time when these images were predominant in Hollywood's, and even Jews' own, depiction of the Ivy League scene vis-a-vis Jewish people. In movies like "School Ties," mere acceptance was a goal to be achieved and even fought for, if necessary. Collegiate American Jewry's motto was similar to that of our adult brethren in the larger theater of American society: ruffle as few feathers as possible and blend into the predominant, conservative culture in order to be accepted.

Granted, there were historical instances in which this code of conduct was abruptly discarded. For example, the 1960's legacy of Jewish involvement in Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam protests, both in the South and on our very own Columbia campus proves that Jews-- even from the Ivy League-- have ventured into an ostentatious position out in liberalism's left field in the past. Nevertheless, the predominant mode of Jewish self-identification remained mitigated, and for the most part was restricted to cultural, non-religiously oriented symbols, a trend that is still current among many assimilated and non-observant Jews on campus. And, this was especially true regarding those Ivies north of the Hudson Valley, where the strength of New York metropolitan area Jewry was not present.

Today, however, simply "getting in" and blending into the larger culture seems anachronistic. Jewish life on college campuses has advanced eons past its former, conformist limitations. While our contributions to cultural and athletic life remain a part of today's collegiate landscape, they are far overshadowed by a spirit of unabashed autonomy that allows us to set a religiously-oriented agenda without worry for outside approval. Daily prayers, Jewish study classes, and a plethora of yarmulke styles are now the most salient symbols of thriving Yiddishkeit , whether in Cambridge or New York, Princeton or Philadelphia. Kosher food alone is no longer a novelty; we have progressed to the point that by 1997 standards, only the acquisition of a pizza stand or a convenience deli earns a Jewish campus community the respectability of having kept up with the times.

Despite these positive trends towards a greater degree of assertiveness, both in our religious orientation and in our cultural means of self-identification, there is a danger that excessive movement to the right might ironically land us on the left of the American political and social scenes, a position that we are best-off avoiding, especially on college campuses. For, although prouder Jewishness has entirely independent roots in the greater American Jewish milieu and in the growth of the strength of modern Orthodox and Conservative demographics in universities, it might be perceived inaccurately to be the mere echo of other minority groups' heightened self-consciousness. We must beware of the risk concomitant with excessive flirtation with the banner of ethnocentrism. Regardless of the ostensible gains that aggressive multiculturalists have garnered via the bombardment and intimidation of college deans, curriculum-setters, and other officials, the Jewish community's positive reputation determines that we have more to lose and less to gain by resorting to such tactics.

Firstly, we certainly do not want to retard the progress of admission of observant students from yeshivas and day schools into top-notch universities. The rapport that yeshiva high schools in the New York metropolitan area have with universities is certainly worth preservation. Graduates of these yeshivas recognize that Judaism can be fostered in alternate types of environments P whether all Jewish or mostly non-Jewish P in tandem with our heightened intellectual sophistication. Much of this progress would be put at risk, however, by a lessening of our willingness to be flexible in our newfound religious strength.

The dilemma that accompanies our present impulse to go head first for any goal that we might desire is probably best exemplified by the scenario currently emanating from the Yale University campus not a traditional "hot spot" of Orthodox Jewish life. There, some of our co-religionists have taken on the university in a legal battle for what they perceive to be insufficient accommodation to the sensitivities concomitant with their religiously prescribed lifestyle. Yale's system of dormitory arrangements has proven unacceptable to their desire for rigidly enforced, separate-sex floors. Regardless of whether the university was actually exerting itself for the sake of compromise or not, it is sufficient to note that the Jewish students involved should have restrained their idealism a bit. Despite being correct according to the "letter of the law" from an Orthodox perspective, the students should realize that their mere presence in that Ivy League university is a matter of choice from the very outset, and they probably should have either adapted to a non-ideal situation or else have sacrificed their educational aspirations to a certain type of religious lifestyle.

While Jews no longer have to, nor should we, beg in order to belong in collegiate landscape that surrounds us, neither should we separate ourselves beyond necessity. We ought to remember that our interests still lie with the conservative, mainstream forces of tradition on campus whether they be Core Curricula or preppy atmospheres, not with those who wish to shatter it. These traditions are all part of what give universities their mystique. They should not be altered in modern times, especially not by the growing numbers of Jewish young adults who have much to gain, experience-wise, from these institutions. Let's not stab ourselves in the back. Let us defend that which has made us, and will hopefully continue to make us, feel comfortable despite our disadvantageous status as a non-minority group in a growing sea of multiculturalism. With a little bit of luck, we can continue to grow religiously while not sabotaging our political or social strength.