Friday, Sept. 30, 2005 -- Liaison Carrie Bennett, in her stone-washed khakis and tucked-in collared shirt, takes a step out of the SUV and onto the street.
"Guys, be nice and quiet and keep moving," she says to the crowd of students standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Beer ears." She stops and looks at my puzzled face.
"Students drink beer and start speaking louder and louder," she explains. "They have beer ears."
Then she smiles and starts the ignition.
Tonight Caroline "Carrie" Bennett, patrols through Charles Village. It's Friday, and as the masses emerge from their dorms and onto the streets, she quietly drives. The radio station isn't on; only the sounds from her two-way play.
Bennett is the Student/Community Liaison and Compliance Officer. In August, Student Life established this position in order to ease the tension between the students who live off campus and the neighborhood.
Thursday through Sunday, Bennett tries to control the groups of students to help lessen the number of noise complaints filed by residents. More recently, with the adoption of the campus "three strikes and you're out rule," it is also her job to control off-campus parties.
On this Friday, she drives down North Charles and, as she glances towards an unlit street, a report comes in. "Someone locked their keys in their car a few blocks over," she says. "Not a student, a resident. Let's head there."
On the side of the road are three people, two men and one woman, stranded besides their Oldsmobile.
They look up. "Our keys are somewhere in the car," says the man in the red hat. The other struggles to budge the door open, pulling on the handle and then finally letting go. Bennett takes out a long, thin tool from the backseat and in one motion opens the door. "I love you. You are a lifesaver," says the man in the hat. Bennett laughs and walks back to the car.
"I am working closely with the students and the neighborhood. I'm helping both groups," she says. Bennett continues to drive and every moment or so stops to observe the area. "I want the students to have a social life without getting locked up, hurt or their party raided. And I want the residents to understand that people can't pick and chose their neighbors." And being the first-ever liaison officer at Hopkins, Bennett is doing just that.
"I am dealing with two extremes here," she says, putting the car in park. "I've caught a student urinating on a door front. Then the other night I heard someone scream, 'You should have been there -- foam!', so loudly, that the neighbors had to wake up."
Groups of students start passing the car. From afar they look like herds of ants; all crawling down different streets and alleys. Some groups are louder than others, yet they all walk in the same robotic manner.
"My first weekend on the job, I couldn't believe the packs of people coming from campus and emptying out into Charles Village. They all move quickly and are going to different destinations." Bennett drives down the road in the direction of the masses.
She stops in front of a fraternity house. Two boys stand in front, checking J-Cards and talking. Bennett walks over to them and the boys give her a nod with a wave. She has become friends with many of the students. Bennett, removing her hands from her pockets, reminds them to keep the noise level down. The boys smile. "I live in a fraternity house; I know people want to have fun. I am understanding of that," she says.
That fraternity house is Alpha Delta Phi (better known as Wawa), where Bennett also plays "house mom" to the boys. "I knew I was going to get along with these guys when they came outside at 11 p.m. to help me move in," she says, stopping at a red light. Bennett is surrounded by students day and night. From "house mom" to liaison, a break is rare.
An empty Big Gulp sits in her cup holder. It's shocking she doesn't need another soda because it's past midnight and Bennett has been patrolling since 7:30 p.m (she works every Thursday, Friday and Saturday, 7:30 p.m. to 4 a.m.).
But after all, she's also just a student. "I graduate in May," she says with a grin. And she's studying. "I've been working towards my B of S, Interdisciplinary Studies degree, with a major in social science from Hopkins for some time now."
Bennett removes the strand of hair that falls in her face. It's been a relatively quiet night, but she doesn't treat this evening any less seriously. She looks out the window and sees a herd of ants approaching. They stop by the curb and speak loudly. Bennett walks towards the students.
"Beer ears," she says.
