Tuesday, February 9, 1999
Smoke screen
RIGHTS: Students often ignore risks of addiction in pursuit of
relaxation
For me, one of the immediate thrills of college life was the
emancipation from parental control and the reactionary lunacy that
came along with it. I mean, c’mon, after 18 years of "Not as long
as you live under this roof," any kid would feel the want – no, the
need – to rebel.
Then again, by the end of the first quarter, it takes only the
receipt of our less-than-extraordinary grades to knock the sense
into us that college isn’t only about fun. It’s also what our
$4,000-a-year tuition paying parents have been trying to tell us.
One of my main concerns, as far as these "rebellions" go, is the
one that seems to stick the most: smoking.
Now don’t despair Bruinfolk. I may be a non-smoker, but I am not
here to make a public service announcement or to condemn you as the
worst thing since tobacco companies.
I’m here only to question why so many kids start smoking in
college and why it has become such a trend on campus, even for
those who insist they are only "occasional smokers."
If I only had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that gem.
This situation is not just a problem, but a plague that seems to
infect everyone, running the gamut of ethnicities, gender and age.
Thus, I often wonder if the DARE (Drug Addiction Resistance
Education) education we all remember from grade school should be
initiated as a prerequisite for all entering college students.
After all, a situation like this goes from problem to plague
when the number of college students I know who don’t smoke can be
counted on one hand.
Of course, smoking is not permitted inside lecture halls, but as
soon as class lets out anyone can bear witness to the countless
students just itching to find their two best friends, "Cigee" and
Lighter. Maybe the administration should consider compensatory
measures or an insurance plan for all those non-smokers exposed
daily to secondhand smoke.
I do not say this lightly. I am not simply "occasionally
bothered" by the smoke on this campus. I’m consistently surrounded
by the fumes which irritate my contacts and never fail to start a
minor coughing bout. And I know I’m not alone.
It’s not just outside classrooms either, it’s everywhere.
Outside shops in Westwood, outside the dorm buildings, all over
campus. I can barely go out in this city on a Friday night without
at least one young person asking me, "Hey, can I bum a smoke off
ya?"
Why have we, especially young people, succumbed to the nation’s
most preventable deadly disease? Why do we students, who scurry by
those groups on Bruin Walk asking for just a quarter, voluntarily
shell out our precious dollars for a pack of cigarettes? (Not to
mention that after the last round of California initiatives you can
add a 50-cent tax to each pack.)
And as more students begin smoking, I have witnessed a increase
in the fight for "smokers’ rights," which can range from the
small-scale, in the attitudes of smokers, to the large-scale, in
activism.
Speaking of attitudes, I’ve encountered many situations in which
smokers refuse to put out their cigarettes, or do it and glare at
me, or argue about their "right to smoke."
Here are just a few of the responses I’ve gotten to date, more
or less verbatim:
"You’ve already kicked us out of everyplace indoors in this
state, so at least have the courtesy to let us smoke outside."
"Besides, the air circulates, and by the time it gets to you
it’s like it’s not even there."
"It’s a big campus. If you don’t like it, go sit somewhere
else." (To which I silently respond, "I would … if there weren’t
someone just like you lighting up everywhere else.")
Not helping this situation are public figures like KABC talk
show host Dennis Prager who no doubt helps to propagate "smokers’
rights."
Prager has repeatedly said on the air that secondhand smoke is
hardly harmful and, at the most, personally offensive to some. He
readily equates it to the perfume someone might wear that bothers
another person, insisting this example is just as trivial as the
effects of secondhand smoke.
Well, Prager, after personally watching some of my friends and
family members succumb to lung disease not because they smoked, but
because their spouses did, it makes it extremely difficult for me
to accept your line of reasoning, or that of any other smokers’
rights advocate.
When something becomes truly harmful and endangers the health of
the smoker and those around him or her, we must rethink our
rationale. Of course, by current law, we have a right to smoke, but
do we really want the right to have fun now and regret it
later?
I know that smoking is glorified on television and in movies,
although I figure one look at the wrinkles on the face of the
Smoking Man on "The X-Files" should convince any young person to
quit. I know ad campaigns – past and present – have added in that
"cool factor," but I still can’t understand why we knowingly submit
our bodies to such gradual torture.
You can tell college students that every cigarette takes 14
minutes off their lives. You can show them the most gruesome cases
of mouth cancer. But that all seems to disappear, whether from
denial, the "It won’t happen to me" syndrome, or sheer indifference
when presented with that little rolled-up stick of wonder.
While I don’t buy into it myself, I think I have come closer to
understanding the allure. So here’s my take on it: smoking for us
young people goes beyond the addictive nicotine, the cool attitude
or the rebellion. It is the very act of smoking – the ritual of it
– that engages so many students.
While I do not doubt that the drugs inside cigarettes produce
physiological changes in the body, I posit that it is more the
ritual of lighting up, breathing in and puffing out those smoke
rings that convinces us that we are now relaxed, cool, mature and
under control.
It is much like how many of us need that Kerckhoff caffeine fix
every morning to get through the day or that dose of "South Park"
to get us over the Wednesday hump every week.
Of course, missing a latte or a couple of episodes is certainly
easier to handle than reducing our nicotine levels. But I am always
inspired by those people who spontaneously quit – only when they
decide they want out for good – and are saddened by those who, even
with the new patches and gums out there, are still stuck in the
rut. My guess? You can never really quit until you are mentally
ready. Physical preparedness just isn’t enough.
It is this conclusion that makes me believe smoking is so much
of a ritualistic habit that we continue it much like any other
habit in life – because it soothes us, we enjoy it, and it seems to
provide a certain predictable balance to our lives.
Sure, it’s somewhat confusing and a bit disturbing that our
bright generation would accept a habit that will catch up to us in
the long run, but such is often the nature of normative culture.
I’ll be damned if I can figure that one out.
Comments, feedback, problems?
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