COLUMN: Vote smart, revive the student voice
Collegiate activism is dead.
I witnessed its demise last week — when of the 20,000 students that populate Utah State University, the only support we could muster to rally against tuition increases at the Capitol was a contemptibly small group of 30 students. This, as state lawmakers torpedo our budget and price us out of school, while giving themselves handsome raises.
That only about 1,000 students from across the state thought the cause worth their while to gather on the steps of the Capitol was a deeply distressing fact to mull over.
Whatever happened to the glory days of campus activism? To the fiery sit-ins, picket lines and marches that, for years, have made the American campus the nerve center of political and social struggle? Do we now view the political process with such disdain as to completely shun it, even at the expense of wrecking our own pocketbooks?
Aggies who attended the protests in Salt Lake City said they did so because they wanted the Legislature “to know that we care.” Well, then, do the rest of us simply not care? Or are we content with passing the buck on to the politically active few?
Personally, I think the reason why many of us don’t give a darn is because we perceive a sense of disenfranchisement: that is, our votes don’t count — on campus or elsewhere.
Let me explain. A few weeks ago, I polled the student body while working on a story about our current university administration. In the course of asking students what they thought about President Kermit L. Hall, I asked them if they felt the Associated Students of USU did a good enough job of championing our collective interests.
Here’s the word on the street:
“I don’t hear ASUSU speaking for students much. What’s their purpose?”
“They represent us well, but are they listened to or taken into consideration? No.”
“I don’t think ASUSU has the power to change administrative policies.”
“I think ASUSU represents the president more than it does the students.”
Bottom line, we don’t have a voice, only a semblance of one, so why engage in futile activism? Decisions will be made whether we like them or not. And if we can’t have a say on our own campus, how could we possibly make a difference at the Legislature?
Good points! Pessimistic, yes, but valid nonetheless.
If we’re going to urge students to take to the streets en masse to protest seemingly endless budget cuts, if we’re going to ask them to lobby their legislators in favor of higher education, we’re going to have to make them believe that they can, in fact, influence the process — that their opinions do count.
For that, we need charismatic student leaders, brimming with a fervent desire to change the world, or at least the small portion of it that we inhabit.
We need people who want more out of their terms than an additional line on their résumés. We need leaders who have more to say at the end of the year than the glib-sounding, “I can’t find the specifics of what my platform was.”
We need folks who are brave enough to venture beyond 1-800 numbers and cosmetic changes to the ASUSU Web site. We need people who realize that more picture frames in the Taggart Student Center won’t change the way students feel about this campus. Essentially, we need a lot better than what we’ve gotten thus far.
This year, as we enter election season, let’s re-evaluate what we want out of student government. Don’t vote for would-be officers who run on bromidic promises and old-hat programs. Look for people with real passion and knowledge of the issues. For heaven’s sake, vote for loud voices against budget cuts and tuition increases.
I leave you with a bit of history. The year was 1869. On the campus of Union College, an independent liberal arts school in New York’s scenic Mohawk River Valley, discontentment with the university administration was bubbling over.
Students were upset with the lack of progress on the construction of a memorial hall, and decided they had waited long enough. Battle lines were drawn. Small student-published magazines spearheaded dramatic political demonstrations.
In one ceremony dripping with satire, some students held a mock “burial of the trustees” to draw attention to what they believed was sheer lethargy on the part of the administration. Two years after their “burial,” the trustees were “resurrected” when action was finally taken to finish the hall.
Enough said. Student activism is an American tradition. Let’s resuscitate it.
Leon D’Souza is a senior majoring in journalism. Comments can be sent to him at leon@cc.usu.edu.