What Makes Some Traditions Important?
Every Tuesday night at St. Lawrence University, students over 21 (even though it’s technically a senior tradition) head to the Hoot Owl bar and indulge in Tuesday Blues. I started going my junior year after my friend Quinn Meyer ’25 (former Hill News editor!) turned 21. I still remember buying my first bucket of Labatt Blue, and I haven’t looked back since. I’ve tried to go every week since then, trudging through snow, rain and humidity. I’ve made new friends through Blues. I’ve laughed until my ribs hurt at Blues. But this isn’t just about going out on a Tuesday and throwing back a few beers.
It’s about the connections we make, the memories we create, and the sense of community that gives life to tradition. The real meaning of these rituals isn’t in the act itself but in how we show up for each other and keep them alive, year after year. Sure, going out on a weekday is fun, but traditions don’t have to involve drinking or even going out. What keeps us coming back and upholding some traditions is the feeling of love that it gives you. The justification for continuing traditions shouldn’t be some blind commitment to the tradition itself. It should be because they bring people together. After all, they help us feel connected, seen, and understood. The best traditions are the ones that evolve with us, that still make sense as we change and grow, and that remind us why we need each other. After COVID and in the world we live in, we need each other now more than ever. Now is the exact worst time to shut yourself off from people. When the feeling fades, or the meaning gets lost, it’s time to let go and find something that truly reflects who we are now.
Some traditions at SLU, and in general, fade away when they’re simply told to stop — like the naked run at orientation — while others die out because of a lack of interest or engagement. However, some traditions should never be carried on, especially those that revolve around cruelty, humiliation, negativity or feeling forced — such as hazing. These are the kinds of practices that should have no place in any community.
Moreover, traditions should hold personal meaning and be rooted in genuine connection. If you’re participating in something regularly, but your heart isn’t in it, or you don’t enjoy the company of those you’re with, it no longer serves the purpose of a tradition. A true tradition brings people together and fosters positive experiences. Without that genuine spirit, it’s no longer worth your time or energy.
Every tradition has its own rhythm– its own heartbeat, and the more we engage with them, the more we begin to understand why they matter. For me, Tuesday Blues is about more than just the shared experience of heading to the Hoot Owl — the little moments, the random conversations, the deep chats with someone you never expected to connect with. The tradition might be simple, but its beauty is how it forces us to pause, step out of our routine, and remind ourselves that we’re all in this together. There’s a sense of belonging in those moments, whether we’re caught in laughter or simply sharing a comfortable silence. That kind of connection is a rare gift in a world where we’re constantly pulled in different directions.
What makes traditions meaningful is the way they adapt to us, allowing us to grow while still holding on to the things that brought us together in the first place. It’s not just about being consistent; it’s about evolving alongside the people you’re with. Traditions aren’t static, and neither are we. They need to breathe, shift and reflect the needs of the time. When they do that, they become more than a habit — they become a lifeline. We’ve seen how easily things can be taken away and how quickly the world can change. Yet, these traditions, these small acts of community, can help us rediscover what we need from one another.
In the end, traditions are the threads that weave us into the fabric of something bigger than ourselves. They remind us that, even in the chaos of life, we are part of something meaningful. And that’s why we need them no matter how old or where we go. They give us a reason to show up for each other and ensure we don’t lose sight of what matters. When the spark fades from a tradition or when it no longer resonates with us, that’s our cue to let go. But while they’re alive, traditions offer us more than just nostalgia — they offer us the chance to find home in the people, the moments and the memories that keep us grounded.