Wednesday, May 20, 1998
Look up and see what all the fuss is about
RIGHTS: Must students lose their voices before someone takes
interest?
Time melts away with each breath we take (and with each
brush-stroke Salvador Dali made). The world spins like a drunken
madman while we attempt to survive this strange plane of reality
called UC(hell)A. As students buried under tons of academic
concerns, who can afford to pause in the frenzy of everyday life to
give a damn about partisan student politics?
Apparently, some members from the Praxis slate and Sanity ’98
sacrificed time and energy in hopes of representing the
undergraduate student population (or at least 3,276 people within
it, including myself.)
So what if there are 20,649 other undergraduates? They threw
away their privilege to vote. Apathy leaves the uncast votes to
decay into nasty, stagnant complacency. This proves that one
person’s garbage is another person’s treasure. (People sacrificed
their lives for our supposed "right to vote." But who cares?)
Would anyone care if by some odd bit of legislation, people were
appointed into office rather than elected? Will it take some
insane, vertically challenged Asian American woman to burn various
pieces of heavily guarded parchment in Washington, D.C. before
people cast a vote?
I hope that things don’t degenerate to these measures.
(Although, these acts coincide with my schemes of one day ruling
the world. Insert evil maniacal laughter here.) But alas, why do I
bother? The Praxis slate now controls USAC. The chants that Sanity
’98 members were "Nazis" is a distant memory, as are the
rain-soaked campaign billboards.
Last year, when Students First! won control of USAC for an
unprecedented third year in a row, I figured that it was time to
learn what the slate represented. I decided to apply for an
appointed position so I could examine the inner workings of USAC. I
was ill-prepared to face the task at hand. I found myself sitting
in front of four rather grim-faced interviewers.
During my interview, several amusing topics arose to drag me
back into reality (not a melting clock in sight). At that time, I
was still an Army ROTC cadet. One of the interview panelists asked
about my opinions regarding the "Don’t ask, don’t tell" policy in
conjunction with an incident that occurred about three years
ago.
Before I continue elaborating on the interview, a brief UCLA
history lesson is in order:
In May 1995, then-Army ROTC Cadet Huong Nguyen revealed that she
was bisexual in a letter to her commanding officer, Lt. Col.
Michael Graves. Her actions violated the "Don’t ask, don’t tell"
policy introduced by President Clinton in 1993 to "resolve" the
issue of gays in the military.
President Clinton once said that this policy "provides a
sensible balance between the rights of the individual and the needs
of our military to remain the world’s No. 1 fighting force."
(Obviously, Clinton’s sense of balance is impaired.)
In following the proper procedures for handling such a
violation, Nguyen was placed on a leave of absence pending
disenrollment. During this time, the Daily Bruin and TenPercent,
the LGBT news magazine, covered the events surrounding this story.
One such event involved student activists protesting the presence
of ROTC on campus because the "Don’t ask, don’t tell" policy
conflicted with the university’s non-discrimination policy.
As an oblivious first-year student, I recall observing the Cadet
Nguyen story with detached interest. I admired her for bravely
standing up to the huge government bureaucracy of the United States
military, but what could the military do? Their hands were tied and
they had to follow orders from the commander-in-chief himself.
"I love this nation and the military, and I want to continue to
serve," Nguyen’s letter read. "I only wish to be judged on my
competence and dedication to this nation, not my sexual
orientation."
The weight of this matter did not hit me until I signed my
enlistment contract for the Army Reserves last year. There within
the contract, in black and white, was the "Don’t ask, don’t tell"
policy. I couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to replace
sexual orientation with one’s ethnicity. (I paused for what seemed
like hours. Could I sign this? Did I agree with this? Some
unidentified voice told me this was wrong, but did I listen? No, I
signed it.)
But back to the USAC interview. I sat there stunned. What could
I say? I was having flashbacks and I hadn’t been in a war yet. I
gave some sort of half-baked answer about following orders and that
Nguyen had a right to reveal her sexual orientation.
I realized that "Don’t ask, don’t tell" violates our freedom of
speech. I also understood the dangers gay or lesbian military
personnel would face if their sexual orientation were revealed to a
conservative institution. Is there a sensible balance in this
situation?
"Guilty by association," I thought to myself. Another panelist
brought up a column I wrote for The Bruin which attempted to
convince people to vote. This particular person gleaned some sort
of anti-USAC message from the non-partisan column. Well at this
point, I realized how pointless and hopeless my endeavor was. The
"us" vs. "them" mentality and tension buzzed in the air.
Perhaps in my enthusiasm, I did not see the "members only" sign
hanging at the door. I left the interview wondering about the
purpose of student government. No matter what group controlled
USAC, the message was clear. Exclude those who don’t hold similar
beliefs and include those who do. Before Students First!, USAC
suffered from the same disease under the control of the Greek
slate.
The dull and depressing place sometimes referred to as the "real
world" also follows the tendency to surround oneself with friends.
It’s not like Clinton made Newt Gingrich his personal advisor nor
is Rush Limbaugh sitting on the National Security Committee. (Signs
that there is a just and wise God.)
As my dead friend Nietzsche once said, "Whoever thinks much is
not suitable as a party member: he soon thinks himself right
through the party (Human, All-Too-Human)."
While most students attempted to survive the crushing weight of
classes, passionate student activists united for the Rally for
Injustice and Equality last week. What is injustice? What is
inequality? I still don’t understand how affirmative action brings
about equality. I find that, at the very least, it brings about
diversity.
In this nation under God, some people bothered to write on
pieces of parchment that "all men are created equal." And yet,
signs of inequality exist everywhere. Can true equality be achieved
on this plane of reality? Probably not. Affirmative action is a
testimony to the inequality in this world, as is the "Don’t ask,
don’t tell" policy. (Shall I burn the parchment now or later?)
I dread a campus without varying points of view and different
cultures. When we speak of discrimination, what is it that we mean?
In our hopes of achieving diversity, why do some people use "race"
as a dividing factor? Go ahead and label some people Nazis and
racists and don’t forget to marginalize those who are
disenfranchised. (Speak your mind. Freedom of speech is a lovely
thing.)
So who gives a damn about partisan student politics? I do. Look
up from your books for a minute. These issues affect you. UCLA has
become a body without a representative voice. Could 3,276 students
speak for 20,649? I doubt it.
We speak about rights so nonchalantly. Will it take some
maniacal, Twinkie-eating devil to strip you of all these so-called
rights before you do something?