Waters to Wine: My report to the president

After three illustrious semesters as a columnist for The Campus, one thing I still haven’t quite figured out is how many people actually read my writing on a regular basis. I hear my friends’ opinions every week, but often they read my column while sitting across from me at lunch on Thursday, so their input is obligatory. I’ve also heard, though, that some administrators enjoy it, and a couple of them have mentioned it to me personally. But for every person who reads “Waters to Wine” with religious dedication, there are probably five other people who have no idea what it is, couldn’t care less or just don’t read anything outside of class (or some combination of the three). And based on the fact that my sometimes incendiary commentary has so far only reaped me a lowly two letters to the editor, only one personal e-mail, a single meeting with a concerned dean and absolutely zero (zero!) comments on The Campus’ website, I’m fairly certain that my value to this institution is considerably less than I once thought it to be.

So it came as a sign of encouragement when I opened my inbox last Thursday night to discover an e-mail from our esteemed president, Ronald D. Liebowitz. After reading my rambling tirade against the decline of campus social life, Ron promptly invited me in for a meeting so that I might elaborate on my points, we could discuss some of the realities of the situation and we might look for ways to go forward from there. How’s that for administrative accessibility? (Although if instead it was only a shrewd move to stay on the popular side of public opinion by manipulating some lowly talking head, then you’re welcome, Ron.) Our meeting yielded little besides the recognition that there is a problem, we do need to do something to fix it and that we’re both on the same side. But in an effort to actually effect real change in the future, Ron asked me if I might be interested in preparing a report of sorts that would elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and how we might fix it.

In my last column, I argued that student complacency is the main problem befalling our social life — that students are quick to complain about a lack of parties but too lazy to have them themselves — and I stand by this. What Ron and I both realized, however, is that perhaps there are reasons students are less likely to have parties now than ever before. Are campus party regulations too stringent to allow for impromptu parties? Is Public Safety too strict in maintaining campus decorum? Is there a lack of viable party space on campus? Are students too worried about the potential consequences of throwing a party? Are we all just boring human beings unconcerned with our lives outside the classroom? Hopefully not the last one, but I think the others fit.

On the long list of things that are wrong, as far as I see them: the party registration system is broken, Public Safety is unnecessarily overbearing and the state’s alcohol regulations are some of the strictest in the nation, which all conspire to make students unwilling to assume the risk and expend the resources (monetary and otherwise) to have a party. What Ron would like to do, then, is diminish this risk and look to facilitate a system where students feel comfortable hosting events, without fear of wasting time and money. Some ways of doing this might be streamlining the party registration system, a convoluted process that makes absurd demands on student hosts and requires complete organization days ahead of time, limiting the spontaneity that college parties usually embody. Ron thinks that Public Safety’s standard operating procedures could be easily changed, as well; if Public Safety came only when called — when students might actually be at risk — we could avoid wasting time on breaking up benign parties and instead focus on keeping students safe. Additionally, if we were to increase access to large campus party spaces (the assignment of superblocks and social houses is critical to this), students could host parties in their own houses without having to jump through administrative hoops.

There are some odds stacked against us, unfortunately. State liquor laws are behind much of the party registration regulations, Public Safety policies and student fear of reprisal. Until these are changed — either by amending the laws, replacing the liquor inspector or by repealing the 21-year-old drinking age — things will never be as easy as we wish them to be.

In the meantime, however, there’s my report. I obviously have some opinions of my own in this department, but after four years surrounded by a bunch of smart people, I’ve come to realize that perhaps (although highly unlikely) there are others on this campus who might have even better ideas than I. So, to take a page out of my Campus colleague, Andrey Tolstoy’s book, feel free to e-mail — I’m open to suggestions. Your ideas might not appear in my next column, but they will make their way into the report that lands on Ron’s desk, so I’d love to hear them — and know that you’re reading.