Disclaimer: Not a humor column this week. Light-hearted fare will return in seven days.
Some of the best conversations I have had this year in my townhouse have been with my roommate from the Netherlands (a.k.a. Holland for all of you who failed geography) in the wee hours of the night. Typically, we discuss world politics/affairs and I continually implore her to tell as many people in Europe as possible that many Americans do not support nor even like George W. Bush (note: no angry letters from Republicans please). After such discussions, I am left to ponder how little Fairfield students know about such things and even more disturbing, how little they care.
Student apathy has afflicted the campus since my freshman year (and likely began years before). With the exception of a few organizations and individuals, it is a miracle to get anyone to care. Yes, students (myself included) complain about the possibility of the townhouse basements being locked, the unappetizing entrees in Barone and getting a parking ticket. These are annoyances and inconveniences, not problems. Comfort and middle-class boredom have made our generation lazy. During the Vietnam “Conflict” (as politicians are so fond of calling it), Fairfield University students took control of Canisius and closed down the Merritt Parkway in protest of the war. (Skeptical? Ask Professor Dykeman, who remembers it well.) Today, it is considered an achievement to get one hundred registered students to vote.
We are not taken seriously by anyone for the simple fact that we are not serious. We lack organization, drive and compassion. In short, the student body at Fairfield University has lost its passion. The following quote from “Trainspotting” sums up the attitude of many aged 18-25 in America: “Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a f— big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers….. Choose DIY and wondering who the f– you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind numbing, spirit crushing game shows, stuffing junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f— -up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that?”
The opposite of a choice is indifference. This is not meant to be a sermon. It is an attempt at a rallying cry to anyone reading these words at this very second. Protest the war. Protest the sexual mistreatment of women. Protest the right to protest. Join an organization, write a letter to a senator or hell, read a newspaper. Acknowledge the existence of an entire world outside the four walls of your townhouse/dorm/apartment. Realize there are billions of people in the world who do not care how many consecutive Beirut games you have won. In two decades, you will look back on your college years, realize you did not even make the attempt to affect change in the world, and it will scare the hell out of you. Contrary to popular belief, you have a choice. Show a passion for something.
Please, prove me wrong.
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