"If someone asks me where I go, I usually say Wharton... the students want a name for themselves more than Penn," says Goreno. Although the snobbishness, separatism, and preprofessionalism of Wharton students tends to be exaggerated, according to most students--who cite frequent humorous jabs at Wharton and its students in the Daily Pennsylvanian, the student newspaper--there is the undercurrent of feeling that the reputation of the rest of the university is not up to par with the caliber of Wharton.

The problem of Penn's image is not new, but it has received considerable attention in the past five years. In 1977, Martin Meyerson, then president of the university, acknowledged that "Students and faculty for years have seen themselves as orphans in the Ivy League and elsewhere." A public relations firm was hired to discover what produced this inferiority complex, and to determine how that poor image would affect the university's ability to attract the best applicants.

Five years later, the median SAT of accepted students rose over 1300, and the entering class of 1987 promises to be more geographically diverse than its predecessors. Although George Koval, acting assistant provost for university life, admits that the admissions office has actively moved to "touch pockets of candidates in other areas of the nation where we might not have touched before," he does not see any concerted effort on the administration's part to improve the public image, nor does he consider it a serious problem.

In fact, although Penn may have the reputation for being "the doormat of the Ivies" and a "safety school," a recent student survey showed that more than 60 percent of the undergraduate population selected Penn as their first choice school. Students continue to wear the popular "NOT PENN STATE" shirts--a reference to public misunderstanding of Penn's Ivy League status, and of the fact that Penn is different from the similarly named football power--but it has become more of a joke than a serious concern.

Phoebe Leboy, past chair of the Faculty Senate, explains that the real problem now is one of "perception versus reality." "Up to the late 1950s, Penn did not have the high academic standards of the other Ivy schools, but then it underwent a large program of capital and academic improvement," Leboy says, adding that the public recognition is now beginning to catch up with the reality of Penn's academic excellence.

Spread over 240 acres across the Schuylkill River from downtown Philadelphia, and isolated from its lower-middle class, predominantly Black neighbors, the single campus is home for all of Penn's graduate and undergraduate schools. The sheer size of the school both physically and in enrollment tends to breed diversity and differences sometimes too much according to some students.

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Amidst the camaraderie of Spring Fling--"it's like one big hugging party," comments a freshman the inevitable problem of the lack of a feeling of unity in the student body remains apparent. The difficulties stem in part not only from the number of people, but from the structure of the system.

"There's more fragmentation here than in most schools due to all the residential problems." explains freshman Andrea Levine. There are a wide variety of housing options, and more than 30 percent of undergraduates live off campus. College Houses--similar to Harvard's House system--and Living and Learning Programs cater to special interests, including health issues, Afro American culture, foreign languages, and the arts. The 80 year-old traditional Quadrangle stands in juxtaposition to the "Superblock"--three high-rise apartment buildings with suites, many of which with their own kitchens--while fraternity houses dot the main walk of the campus.

With students from all four undergraduate schools and all four classes living together, but spread among the different types of residence, there is the contrasting sense of a large community split into many smaller isolated groups, especially among minorities. "You can live here a year and never meet anyone from the floor above," complains one Superblock resident, although most students will quickly defend the openness and friendly atmosphere.

Administrators recognize the problems, and claim to be working to foster increased faculty student and student-student interaction to improve the undergraduate experience.

"It's too big a community to be considered one community," says Mary Spata, assistant Director of Student Life, adding that the challenge now is "to shrink the psychological size of the University, to create more of a sense of unity, to help people find their place."

Among the students themselves, the contrast in opinions about Penn almost makes it seem as if they are discussing different schools.

Missy Cohen, a freshman in the College, calls Penn "a very spirited school, with a very spirited atmosphere." Her classmate, Maryanne C. Wysell, points to exciting, campus-wide event like Spring Fling and this year's Harvard-Pennsylvania football showdown for a stake of the Ivy title (Penn won, 23-21) as times when "it seems as if the whole university is there."

Liz Cooper, a senior in the college and a former chairperson of the Undergraduate Assembly, Penn's student government, sees her school in a different light.

"Penn is not a community--it's a resource center. It's a focused singular environment where people come in and take what they want, and then they leave," Cooper says, adding that if students can find their own niche--she points to the increasing popularity of the college houses and Penn's 30 fraternities and sororities as examples of students seeking a sense of community--"Penn gets smaller, and better."

The average Penn student is only here to get his degree and graduate. Cooper continues, noting that student apathy is so prevalent that in a recent referendum to abolish the Undergraduate Assembly, the referendum passed but was not binding since less than 20 percent of the eligible undergraduates voted.

Although they contrast sharply in their view of Penn and her problem, Cooper, Wysell, Cohen, and many of their fellow students would agree on one thing: they are proud of their school. They don't want to be Harvard or Yale; they want Penn to be the best it can be.

"Ideally, we can have the best of both worlds, says Hackney. "We can be a large, diverse, exciting university with a strong sense of community and support, with each member feeling that he belongs," he added.