Some 76,580 college students are back on RI campuses. Mark Patinkin has some advice.

It has been brought to my attention that college students are once again returning to Rhode Island. This became clear when I attempted to drive across Thayer Street at Waterman on Providence's East Side but was impeded by a herd of Brown students crossing against a red light, despite having gotten 1400s on their SATs.

This is a longtime habit of Ivy kids that might stem from the entitlement of being legacies, although they say legacies are no longer a thing, or shouldn’t be, especially at Brown, which is woke.

Though I am guessing no one who got in there is angrily protesting that their legacy status, or a family with enough money to pay for a building, represents unacceptable privilege.

The advent of a new school year is a big deal in Rhode Island, since the internet just told me there are 76,580 college students here, and you have to believe the internet.

So let me welcome 2023’s college students, especially freshmen settling into Rhode Island for the first time, with a special shout-out to the big contingent from New Jersey who come to URI. I’m not sure why that’s a pipeline – maybe because Johnston’s Pauly D was a star on "Jersey Shore"? Or more likely it's what a URI grad named Rudi Hempe told me: the school is far enough from New Jersey to evade parental oversight, but close enough to go home on weekends to get your laundry done.

My mission today is to explain Rhode Island to college newcomers who find it an alien land. First of all, it kind of is, with its own accent, for example, the way you pronounce “pierced ears” here is to quickly say the letters p.s.d.s.

While some confuse Rhode Island with Long Island and think we are part of New York, we are indeed one of the 50 states, though by far the smallest, to a point where a visitor from England once famously said, “Rhode Island is a funny little state – is it necessary?”

Historically, it certainly is, having been founded by a free-thinking gadfly named Roger as a refugee from puritanical orthodoxy in Massachusetts. And yes, I know it’s Williams, but charmingly, the folks at the First Baptist Church in America, which he founded and where he then served as inaugural pastor, still affectionately call him just “Roger.” By the way, it really is the first, the Baptist mother church being in Providence rather than the bible belt.

Let’s clear up one misconception. A few days ago, while out of state, I mentioned to someone where I was from, whereupon he said, “How’s the Mafia doing?” I was tempted to say quite well, and don't cross us or you'll swim with the fishes, but alas, he was a few decades out of date, and sadly, our former godfather, Raymond Patriarca, no longer rules New England from his Little Italy perch on Atwells Avenue.

But there’s still a “Wise Guys Deli” there whose motto is, “Leave the gun, take the sandwich,” though I would instead recommend the pasta Bolognese at the dozen-plus Italian restaurants along Atwells. You won’t find a better eating scene even in Boston, which back in the day answered to Patriarca in Providence, so gastronomically they’re still in second place. And our beaches are better than theirs, too.

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Rhode Island is also a place of brash politics, where everyone wants to get into the act, the latest proof being 11 Democrats – eleven for goodness' sake – are running for a vacant congressional seat during this coming Tuesday’s special election primary. Though it’s basically the real election, since there are fewer Republicans in Rhode Island than Democrats at Mar-a-Lago.

Most of those running are progressive, this being the bluest of blue states, and therefore no doubt seen as godless by red America. In fact, once, after writing a column about how enriching it was to be the dad of three children, I heard from someone in Kentucky who read it and said, “That was lovely. I didn’t know you people up there had family values.”

Well, ma’am – and arriving college students – let it be known that we do, though sometimes such values translate to mayors putting their brother-in-law in charge of the Department of Public Works. The most iconic such mayor was Buddy Cianci, who ran Providence City Hall for decades until he was hauled away in handcuffs, but upon his release almost won reelection, because Rhode Island is also a place of beloved scoundrels.

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Buddy did help steer Providence from fading industrial town to renaissance city where – and you should do this – you can today take a gondola ride through downtown with a singing gondolier named Marcello, Gennaro or Luciano; Boston doesn't have that, either.

Alas, I am suddenly running out of space here, so let me rush to say that you should also try some stuffies, chowda, Del’s and, of course, an order of three New York System hot wieners all the way, washed down with coffee milk, which is different than milk in your coffee.

You’ll have to figure out what all that means, but I am confident you’ll have mastered it after four years in Rhode Island, which is to say in God’s country. I promise you won’t regret your time here, and, hopefully, by graduation, you'll even learn to cross on greens.

mpatinki@providencejournal.com

This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: Columnist Mark Patinkin explains RI to new college students