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Editor's note: Beth Sorenson is a
junior in the College of Arts and Sciences
majoring in art.
by Beth Sorenson
The education process should be a joie
de vie. Yet, we discover today at UNL it
is a way of 'getting by'. To take 16 hours
of a foreign language is a royal pain. This
semester makes my third time around for
French 11. My first two efforts expired
when I realized my teachers didn't know
what they were talking about. One
teaching assistant had never been to
France, and the other one made the
country sound like the DB&G of Europe.
Having lived in Europe and attended
school with French children, these classes
became frustrating. This time around I
have a teaching assistant of French
extraction and has spoken the language
since birth. For those in our class who
have never left Nebraska, her insight and
understanding has given the feeling of
accessibility beyond Nebraska. Even if
this semester is followed by an
inadequate teacher, I doubt that my
excitement can be taken away.
I feel the foreign language and English
composition requirements should not be
dropped. People who state they represent
the arts and sciences majors certainly did
not poll our French class. We voted
unanimously to maintain the language
requirement. The requirement should be
revised to be applicable to the needs of
the students. To lay the head on the
chopping-block for five hours a semester
of non-major credit is totally unrealistic.
The present group requirement structure
does not relate the cultural, political or
economic background of the language
studied.
A proposal before the faculty of the
College of Arts & Sciences would strike
freshman composition from requirements
and make languages a voluntary category
under humanities. Do this, and within the '
year some science or math major might
be upset about the hours required in
humanities. Or some art major is quietly
conjuring some diabolical means by
which to 'get-out' of the math or science
requirement. To limit knowledge is to
close the door on the world.
Language is a discipline-it's memory
work. To write in any language,
grammatical structure and correct spelling
must be learned. There is no escape. It's
one of those little realities of life which
establishes communication between
people. Isn't the purpose of college to
gain some inkling of knowledge even if
there's a multitude of trash to wade
through on the way to our major
courses-so that we can better
communicate and adapt to this rapidly
changing life? '
A solution would be to face reality.
Tools of both oral and written
communication are necessary. Not even
Nebraskans can fantasize that way.
Therefore, it is necessary to construct the
most creative, alive and applicable means
by which to teach the subject. This is not
solely the responsibility of the
faculty-students are equally responsible.
When we pay tuition, we assume our right
as an employer, not as a slave. As an
employer, we must demand the highest
quality education each professor is
capable of producing.
He cannot produce this quality by
wasting his time in committee meetings.
Students cannot waste their time wearing
their britches out on the Chancellor's
carpet. Disciplines cannot be dodged but
they can be made interesting.
I feel it would be better to demand a
concerned language department and keep
the doors of the world open, rather than
retreat to the belief that "there is no
place like Nebraska."
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Dear President: I, Joe Sikspak, American, take pen in hand
to let you know I paid my taxes to keep this great land of
ours strong and free and you can have it.
It takes me three nights running to figure out all those
loopy forms you got. And no matter how I figure it, I still paid
you $1,213.04 to run the country in 1971.
Well, I'm teed off, naturally. So I go down to Paddy's Place
for a 7-Up high or three. And I lay it to him.
"Paddy," I says, "I'm fed up to about here with sweating
my you-know-what off to support a bunch of do-nothing
welfare bums who loll around on the $1213.04 the President
takes out of my paycheck."
Now Paddy's one smark cookie. He's been to college and
he's got plenty of time to read, business not being too good
lately.
"The trouble with you, Joe," he says, "is you work."
"That's right," says I. "And these spongers don't. The
President ought to make them."
"Which ones?" says he. "The rich or the poor?"
Well, he's kind of got me there. So I ask if he's gone bats.
He reaches under the bar and pulls out this story from the
New York Timet. And it says how a millionaire gets $720,000
a year from the government while a poor snook making $3,000
gets 30 cents a week.
I tell him he better explain it to me. Slowly.
"Okay," he says. "The guy who makes a million a year
would owe the government $720,000 if he got it in wages like
you. Only he doesn't. He gets it in tax-free municipal bonds,
oil wells that deplete, real estate ventures that depreciate and
the like. If he's smart, he doesn't pay a nickel."
"I should be so smart," says I.
"So, thanks to this government welfare plan," says Paddy,
"He's $720,000 richer. The government's $720,000 poorer.
And you got to make up the difference."
it's going to take me a long time," says I. "Give me
another 7-Up high."
"Now your poor snook at the other end of the scale," says
Paddy, "about all he can deduct is the chiropractor bill for his
aching back. And he's lucky if that makes him $16 richer."
"Easy on the 7-Up," says I.
M4 Tritam JyArtt
"It says here," says Paddy, putting on his specs, "that these
two smart cats at the Brookings Institute figured up that the
government gives away $77 billion in these tsx handouts. The
six million poorest familes got only $92 million of that. And the
3,000 richest families got $2.2 billion - or 24 times as much."
"What do you call that?" says I.
"It's called the graduated income tax," says Paddy.
"What's it all mean, Paddy?" says I.
"It means, Joe," says he, taking off his specs, "that if you
want the privilege of paying taxes in this great land of ours,
you got to work for it."
So now I'm really teed off, President. I'm not against this
graduated income tax thing, mind you. But you got to start
graduating it the other way.
Mostwise, you got to make these welfare bums work for a
buck like me. Rich and poor alike. I sure as hell don't deaiiy
love seeing my $1,213.04 going to some deadbeat on the dole.
But these millionaires is more than I can afford.
Truly yours,
Joe Sikspak, American
Copyright Chronicle Publishing Co. 1972
THE DAILY NEBRASKAN
PAGE 5
FRIDAY, APRIL 21, 1972