Growing up, I never had the coolest clothes, I didn’t know the latest gossip, and I wasn’t quite up on the latest AIM abbreve (LMAO? That’s the group who sang that song about Abercrombie & Fitch, right?). I certainly didn’t feel like I fit any sort of “Long Island mold,” so imagine my surprise when, upon my arrival at Cornell, I was almost instantly branded with a label — just like (and largely due to) the kind on the back of my jeans.

It was the first night of orientation week, and everyone I knew at Cornell (my roommate and both of the boys who had poked me on Facebook over the summer), was talking about going to “C-town.” I excitedly put on my highest pair of I’m-an-adult-now-heels in preparation for what I thought was the ultimate in college experiences: a keg party … with real beer! Arm in arm with my roommate, I walked into what I was told was a “Sig Pi Annex” where I stood maybe long enough to get out the first few syllables of “I’m a freshman” before having beer foam spilled all over my shirt. An older girl next to me took pity and led me to get cleaned up in the bathroom. As she expertly patted the stain out of my dry-clean-only top, I nervously rambled about my name, my major and, of course, where I’m from. She smiled knowingly, patted the last bit of beer out of my shirt and said, “I mean, I figured.”

Though our exchange had, at the time, left me baffled, I now understand that, at this school, being from Long Island is like being in some kind of segregated minority group no one wants to stand up for. Funny, though, I don’t remember having to check off a “Long Island” box on my college apps. So I can’t help but wonder why I feel like I’m sitting at a Long-Island-only lunch table on the Mean Girls cafeteria map.

Admittedly, as with the people from any region, there are certain similarities amongst many of the people who have come from Long Island. What I fail to understand is the negative stigma that has been assigned to those similarities. Sure I tuck my leggings into my Uggs; and I may even utter the occasional misplaced “like;” and, yes, I did get the dress I wore to my Bat Mitzvah from Nancy Sinoway; but what’s wrong with that? I realize that I can’t speak for everyone, but, personally, I wear leggings because they go with everything and stretch more than jeans on those days after I’ve had too much CTP at Johnny O’s after-hours. And, for the record, I am fully aware that Uggs are not the most becoming footwear available. But, seriously, have you ever actually tried them on? Wearing them is like having your feet massaged by tiny bunnies as you walk. It’s not that I care so much about how I look or fitting in with everyone else. In fact, it’s precisely the opposite.

The reason that people from Long Island tend to stick to other Long Islanders who dress and behave like they do is not because we somehow think we are better than anyone else. It’s because, on a campus where we are constantly misunderstood, it’s comforting to meet someone who gets you. Long Islanders are criticized for not branching out, but constantly mocked by everyone else. It’s like being the smelly kid in kindergarten — the only other kid who doesn’t cringe at your stench is … the other smelly kid. When I meet someone with a 516 (or 631) area code, I don’t have to worry about any judgment of my Lon-Guy-Land accent or my Wicked-colored fingernails.

Of course, it’s not everyone. I have plenty of progressive friends who have gotten past the stereotypes, but, unfortunately, not everyone at Cornell has such modern views. While we may have learned about prejudice in junior high, and while we may have left the Kipling backpacks behind, it seems that we brought the superficial cliquiness right along with our shower caddies to Cornell.

Regional stereotypes aside, there is one thing we all share. When I went abroad, no one identified me as a “Long Island girl.” When I left Ithaca’s campus bubble and met people from different schools all over the country, I was known as a “Cornell girl.” When we graduate, all of us will have come from the same place, and we may all find ourselves facing the stereotypes like those faced by Andy on The Office. Instead of wasting our energy identifying our differences, we should focus on putting them aside and recognizing the amazing qualities we all have in common — the ones that got us in here in the first place. No matter where you’ve come from, we’re all here at Cornell together, and that’s something we’ll all have wherever we’re going.

Nikki Nussbaum is a senior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. She can be reached at nnussbaum@cornellsun.com Cornell Uncovered appears alternate Tuesdays.