School mascots are the sort of American kitsch that I’ll admit my fellow Brits can sometimes view a little cynically. So, when I was tasked to write a story on the redesign of Santa Rosa Junior College’s “Rosco,” I was intrigued to get a closer look and learn more about a tradition that was somewhat foreign to me. What I wasn’t prepared for was the mystery I would encounter.
My investigation began with Sarah Laggos, SRJC’s Director of Philanthropy, who, after 12 years of service to the school, was tasked with the effort of bringing Rosco up to date. Laggos introduced me to Rosco’s long and rich history, and she may just be his biggest fan. A bear cub has represented SRJC since its founding in 1918, though he went unnamed for the first few decades. As student Roderick Craig wrote in an article that opened the first SRJC yearbook for the class of 1921, “The junior college is a branch of the University of California [Berkeley]; their emblem is the bear, hence ours is the bear cub.” Since its opening, SRJC has been considered a “feeder school” to U.C. Berkeley and Stanford, drawing from them the school’s colors of blue and red respectively — giving Rosco his livery then and now — but not for 30 years would he get his name, according to Laggos.
After a contest attracting 50 entries, Rosco, suggested by students F. Eugene Ward and Greg Brethards, was chosen as the winner. If you’ve ever wondered why there is no ‘e’ on the end of Rosco, as reported by the Oak Leaf on Apr. 26, 1950, “The ‘Ros’ part of the name is for Rosa. The ‘Co’ part is for college.”
Over the years, Rosco has propagated many looks when it comes to his branding.
“That was part of our challenge,” Laggos said. “Since 1920 there had been 25 different looks of Rosco, and in 2023 alone, there were eight different versions in use.” Designs varied from black bears to brown bears, realistic bears to cartoon bears.
“That’s when we came together and said it’s time for SRJC to have one look; one unified image of Rosco that we can build community around,” said Laggos. Before design began, SRJC students, faculty and staff, past and present, were surveyed on what Rosco means to them, and what they look for in a mascot. A strong, encouraging and proud leader was the consensus.
To manifest these traits into a character that will take SRJC into the future, $28,000 from the Office of Marketing and Communications budget was invested in new traditional and digital marketing assets, along with three brand-new, custom-made mascot suits; two “friendly” for general events, and one “fierce” for athletics, according to Laggos.
After she showed me Rosco’s revamped navy blue and cardinal red logo, both friendly and fierce versions, I unintentionally asked a question that made Laggos visibly uncomfortable: “Who wears the suit?”
She said she didn’t know and directed me to student services. I wasn’t ushered out of her office, but it was clear the interview was over. I didn’t know what, but I could tell my ignorance had stumbled into something I wasn’t supposed to ask about. Who is Rosco?
I naively went over to the Bertolini Student Center and asked at the window if they knew who might be able to help me find out Rosco’s true identity. Again, my question was met with nervous energy while they went to ask up the chain.
Student engagement coordinator, Joshua Pinaula, came out to see who was asking. Thinking this might be my only shot, I fired off my questions. Who is Rosco? Did they audition? Is it an annual posting?
Pinaula replied, “Do you really want to know?” When I nodded, he just walked away with a smile that implied all would be revealed in the fullness of time. I was left perplexed about how I was going to complete this story without covering this important aspect of what and who Rosco is.
The following Tuesday, just before 3 p.m., I was in line for the day’s fourth latte at the Bear’s Den when I found myself staring at the antique carvings in the display case there. The three bear cubs, carved in Switzerland in 1871, were loaned to SRJC Associated Students in 1964 by alumni Win Jewett, class of 1927, and Jack Cooper, class of 1929.
I put it down to caffeine induced hallucinations when I thought I saw one little cub move, but then something even stranger happened. I couldn’t tell if I was staring at the bear, or if I was the bear staring out at me.
I became dizzy and tried to rest my head on my hands, but it felt so much larger than usual. I staggered and nearly tripped because my feet were huge too. I rubbed my face and felt fur. I looked at my hands and saw paws.
Stumbling out into the quad, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the Bertolini Center window. I was Rosco. Pinaula appeared next to me out of nowhere, still sporting that knowing grin. I tried to ask him what was happening, but I had no voice. I tried to signal to passing students, but they just waved back, overjoyed to see Rosco.
The reflection showed me I had on an Oak Leaf t-shirt. Surely my colleagues at the paper would help me. It took what felt like an age to get to them, not only because I wasn’t used to my oversized feet, but because everyone I met wanted a photograph with Rosco, not knowing it was really me.
I felt like an imposter, but what else could I do? I posed, I waved and I high fived as I thought Rosco would. By the time I got to the Oak Leaf newsroom I had forgotten about trying to get help. Being the source of so much joy was quickly addicting.
After a full round of fist-bumps from everyone in the newsroom and a group photo, I was getting used to being Rosco. I called in on the forensics team during their class just to see their faces light up and pose for yet more pictures.
Just as I decided I was going to visit the whole school, Pinaula said, “Okay, I think you’ve seen enough,” then, suddenly, I found myself back in front of that carving, slightly sweaty and late for class, fresh latte in hand, uncertain how much of what I had just seen was real.
“By keeping [Rosco’s] name and brown bear identity, we honor our past while turning a page toward a bright future. Rosco does more than entertain – he unites our community, instills a sense of belonging, and reminds us that, while we take education seriously, we’re also here to create an environment where we can grow, have fun and forge lasting memories,” said Sarah Pew, SRJC’s senior director of marketing, communications and public affairs. “Rosco is the true embodiment of the SRJC community.”
During my encounter that afternoon I got to experience viscerally what that embodiment means, and finally received an answer to my question. Who is Rosco? Rosco is us just as we are all him. This is my freshman year at SRJC and my first experience at an American school, complete with mascot and everything. I am as joyous to be part of this community, its long history and its culture as every one of those smiling faces I had the privilege of glimpsing for a moment from Rosco’s perspective.
Go Bear Cubs.
