—
Late fees can punish innocent
’Tis the season to rejoice and
celebrate. A time when joy and
that runs unchecked in this country.
It also is time for New Year’s
resolutions, which are feeble
attempts at self-reform dictated by a
change in calendar — as if it were
time to buy new milk — that will
ultimately fail, because time is
sufficient motivation only when it
nears expiration. People are
procrastinators.
My resolutions usually are
simple improvements that, with
minor effort, could be achieved.
This is, of course, the best way to
look good. By setting expectations
low, one can be endlessly impressed
with the routine things that get
accomplished.
This is also the line of thinking
here at the University of Nebraska
Lincoln: Aim low’, shoot high.
Well, as improbable as it is, I
would like to see UNL offer up one
resolution in particular: Eliminate
some of the idiots in the Adminis
tration Building.
Sure, parking is frustrating, as is
the potential waste of funds for a
new engineering school; and it
would be nice to have new, func
tioning equipment in various
departments on campus.
But there’s nothing worse than
spending an afternoon trying to
communicate with people who
don’t listen.
I’m certain that everyone has a
particular horror story that they
keep close to their heart, and I
would like to share mine.
Last spring semester — my first
here at UNL — I encountered
silliness in action. My student loan
was late, and I did not have the
funds to pay for my tuition by the
due date. I figured that the financial
aid people would be understanding,
because I couldn’t avoid paying
them: They get my check first.
Well, they charged me a $20 late
fee, which did not brighten my day.
I told them about the situation, and
As it stands, the university has $40 of
my money that it shouldn’t have. I
could eat for two weeks on that, pay
my phone bill, actually see a movie
on the big screen!
all they could say was, “But you
were late.” For some reason, it did
not matter to them that the federal
government was late. Oh no, I had
to come up with $5,500, even
though I didn’t have it. 1 asked if 1
should knock off a gas station, but
they didn’t get it.
After dancing around in circles
for 20 minutes with a group of
individuals who seemed to share
the same brain, I was asked why I
hadn’t requested a temporary loan
to cover the bill until my real loan
came in.
By the way, how much can I
borrow with this temporary loan?
What’s that? Only $1,000? Maybe
I’ve been speaking French this
whole time — I said my bill was
$5,500. What will $1,000 do for
me?
None of them had an answer,
and that’s because there wasn’t one.
The system is set up for that kind of
failure, to generate more revenue
from the financially strapped
student body.
Guess what, friends: It happened
again. Only this time my check
came on time. It was my bill that
never came.
Early this semester, I gained
residency, which lowered my
expenses dramatically. While
filling out the necessary forms, I
changed my address to my current
one. Now, one would assume that
the departments, not to mention the
computer system at UNL, all would
be interconnected, yes?
No. My change of address never
made it to the student accounts
people, or whatever they call
themselves. So I never received a
bill. About a week after the due
date, I went to find out why UNL
hadn’t been hounding me for
money. Believe it or not, college
can get hectic, and bills are not a
priority. Once again, they didn’t
understand.
Here’s a sample of my conversa
tion with extra-chromosome lady:
“You have a late fee.”
“I never got a bill.”
“You owe $20.”
“But, I never got a bill.”
“You’re late.”
“But listen...”
“$20 or you can’t register,
Lateboy.”
I would like to tell you that I
look control of the situation by
slugging her and changing my
status on the computer, but that’s
not true. I’m not good with comput
ers.
As it stands, the university has
$40 of my money that they
shouldn't have. I could eat for two
weeks on that, pay my phone bill,
actually see a movie on the big
screen! UNL should not be collect
ing fees from students who cannot
pay because of bureaucratic
incompetence.
It is bad enough that we endure
steady tuition increases. Late fees
are an inexcusable slap in the face
to students and need to be elimi
nated.
Justice is a junior news-editorial and
broadcasting major and a Dally Nebraskan
columnist.
UNL lessons learned and lost
There’s a line in a Tom Waits
song that goes: “I never saw a
sunrise until I’d stayed up all
night.”
If that’s true, then I’ve seen
my share of sunrises this semes
ter. In fact, I saw one on Monday
morning as I was finishing up the
last history paper I would ever
have to write. That’s E-V-E-R.
Ever.
Yep, graduation is barrelling
down on the last class of 1994
like a crazed rhinoceros in a party
hat. If I sound a little loopy,
that’s because I’m writing this
during my 36th straight hour of
involuntary sleep diprivation.
That graduation rhino is prodding
me along: Finish your senior
thesis. Don’t skip your art history
class. Remember to mail that
check to your professor. Other
wise, YOU MIGHT NOT
GRADUATE!-ate!-ate!-ate-echo
echo.
That phrase fills me with
dread, like the thought of the
Grinch stealing Christmas drives
little kids to tears. All semester, I
have been looking forward to the
day in December when Spanier
Claus will give hundreds of good
— and not-so-good — University
of Nebraska-Lincoln students
what they want most in the whole
world: a fancy piece of paper
often referred to, for some reason,
as a “sheepskin.”
Before we get our lamb’s flesh,
however, we’ll have to listen to
some schma about how we are
about to enter a brave new world
and how our education at UNL
has prepared us for this brave new
world by keeping us up all night
studying things that we will
forget three hours after leaving
this campus.
Call me a cynic, but if you
asked me right now to list spe
In college, we metamorphose from
children who put “Kick Me” signs on
their friends' backs to mature young
adults who put “Hire Me” in masking
tape on their mortar boards.
cific facts or theories I have
learned at this institution that will
prepare me for a brave new
world, I would say: 1) Hablo un
poco espanol (i speak a little
Spanish) and 2) President Ronald
Reagan screwed up his policy in
Lebanon in part because he
ignored Syria.
The first statement is very
useful, in my opinion. The second
is not; I just remember it because
Reagan and Syria were part of the
huge paper I just finished Monday
after a sleepless night. Give me
time, and I will forget that I even
wrote a paper.
Through this haze of gradua
tion fever, I remember that as a
freshman, most of my classes
were cut and dried — this is the
answer, learn it, regurgitate it,
and you’ll do just fine. Thank
fully, that has changed. My last
semester was filled with self
generated ideas and projects. It
was challenging. It was exciting.
It was marked at times by a
severe lack of sleep. It was also
one of the few semesters that fit
those descriptions. Sure, there has
been the occasional class that
breaks the mold and stimulates
my neurons (I’m pretty sure I
learned about neurons in psychol
ogy — wait, did I take psychol
ogy?), but those classes were too
| few and far between for my
liking.
Somehow, some way, all of us
have learned something from this
fast-food education — the pack
’em-in-like-cattle lecture classes,
the endless-red-tape bureaucracy,
and the multitude of I-need-your
student-ID-number transactions.
Some learned to conform.
Others deliberately bucked the
system and learned free thinking.
Most of us have achieved a
delicate balance, reserving our
thought processes for things that
truly deserved our attention and
breezing through the rest. And
when we’re done, we’re rewarded
with a hunk of ewe’s epidermis.
In college, we metamoiphose
from children who put “Kick Me”
signs on their friends’ backs to
mature young adults who put
“Hire Me” in masking tape on
their mortar boards. But we don’t
recall exactly how we got there.
Just like I never saw a sunrise
until I’d stayed up all night, I
never really saw UNL until I was
about to leave it for good. This
place has been my home for a
quarter of my life, and I’ll never
see it again ... choke, gasp, sob.
Thanks for the ram’s hide,
UNL, and everything else, too,
whatever it was.
Paulman is a senior news-editorial and
history major and a Daily Nebraskan colum
nist.
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