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{shortcode-8c0dd475ea3269f67b1a4d37d27db5cc232a1fc2}hen I walk into Jeremy Ornstein’s room in Adams, he’s watching Noname’s most recent Tiny Desk Concert on his iPad. His room is filled with tchotchkes: birthday cards, a ball he likes to throw against the wall, a blonde wig strewn on the floor (he played Barbie in Adams’ drag show the night before).
Etymologically, tchotchkes are core to the idea of whimsy. As Jeremy explains, people used to call weird little objects “whim-whams,” hence “whimsical.” To Jeremy, “whimsical” evokes “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“One of my most whimsical qualities is talking to strangers,” he says. In the summer of 2021, he walked 400 miles from New Orleans to Houston talking to strangers about climate change. “We just stopped everyone we could and talked to them — talked to a truck driver about the coastal erosion, and a guy in an excavator, and a fisherman,” he continues.
Jeremy took two years off college during the Covid-19 pandemic to work with the Sunrise Movement, which he describes as young people uniting to create good jobs and stop climate change.
“And that was whimsical,” he says. “Well, do you think risking arrest is whimsical?”
“I think it’s pretty whimsical,” I say.
He nods, “I totally think it’s whimsical.” Our definition of whimsy continues to expand.
Though his passion is climate activism, he says he has to keep performing in the future. Besides drag, Jeremy also recently acted in the thesis musical “White House Princess” and does stand-up and improv comedy on campus. His most recent stand-up set touched on the best way to get over a breakup (the answer? Get a skin infection). He also wants to make a movie and write a book.
His movie might feature him as a detective. His book would be composed of fragments, like “Year of the Monkey” by Patti Smith. We get to talking about Patti Smith. “You know that she messed up Bob Dylan’s song at the Nobel Prize?” he asks. I say, no. “Can we watch that?” I say, yeah!
So, as Jeremy explains, when Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016, he sent Patti Smith to perform at the ceremony in Stockholm. He pulls up the video on YouTube. Midway through her performance of Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” she stumbles and apologizes and asks if they can repeat that section, and she apologizes again and says she’s so nervous. She restarts the section and continues singing.
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“I love how she stands now. Look at her now,” he says. “She’s taken her strength back, but it still hurts. And all these idiots with their suits…” Her song ends, and everyone in the video applauds, and we applaud too.
He pauses the video and turns to me seriously. “And I’m gonna tell you something else. We’ve already won huge things for the climate already. Do you know what the Inflation Reduction Act is? Nobody knows.”
He explains that the Inflation Reduction Act, passed in 2022 after sustained movements by climate activists, invests $500 billion into clean energy. For Jeremy, this is an example of how we can use the huge amount of power and wealth in the government to transform our built environment. He recognizes that one act won’t solve all of the problems in the world. But it’s a win and should be celebrated. He feels lighter because of it.
“Honestly, Sarah, part of me feels like a feather while I’m on campus,” he says. “Not because there aren’t bad things, not because there aren’t problems I’m called to solve, but because I know that something special has already been done. I’ve been walking with a little bit of, just, joy.”
Jeremy is writing his Social Studies thesis on a technology called ocean alkalinity enhancement, which means deacidifying the ocean a bit so it can absorb more carbon. As Jeremy mentions, the ocean has absorbed billions of tons of carbon — “so it’s got our backs.” He’s studying the public response to proposed testing, specifically the response from fishermen and fishing leaders around New Bedford, Massachusetts.
Jeremy wouldn’t call himself whimsical. After a short while, our conversation has progressed past the framing of whimsy, and we’re simply shooting the shit. He decides he’s over “whimsical.”
“I hate that word. Fuck you, Harvard!” he says. “I’m not whimsical. I’m serious … stodgy…” he pauses between each list item, thinking deeply, “predictable … and cozy.” He finishes with a smile. Before I go, he looks up “easy rap beat” on YouTube, and insists we freestyle a bit. He raps of sunsets, peanut butter, and changing the world.
— Associate Magazine Editor Sarah W. Faber can be reached at sarah.faber@thecrimson.com.
