Nebraska: More than football
My very first column was about
arriving in Nebraska. My very last,
strangely enough, is about Nebraska
as well.
Nebraska. The first time my dad
heard the name and that I actually
considered going there, he freaked
out. “Nebraska!” he exclaimed, “It
sounds awfully like Alaska. I don’t
like it already!”
Nebraska. Certain people who I
met in Florida didn’t know where in
the United States it was. At least the
kid in “Sleepless in Seattle” might
have given a “somewhere in the
middle” answer to the question.
Shame on you Floridans. At least
we kicked your butt in Miami.
(Living in Nebraska had taught me
to take comfort in football.)
One smart aleck wanted to know
if we had Indians in our backyards.
His vision of Nebraska was a 19th
century mural on the wall.
While my dad could be forgiven
for his ignorance — he has never set
foot on American soil —the same
can’t be said about the innumerable
fellow Americans who harbor their
own prejudices about this state.
A recent article about Nebraska
in the Washington Post epitomizes
the national view of Nebraska. The
headline yelled out — “The Greater
Part of Nebraska — Plain deserted”
or something to the effect.
The article talked about a real
problem in Nebraska: the problem
of brain drain, attrition, and migra
tion to other states. It also portrayed
the state in a not-so-positive manner
— at least not the way I see it.
It described the “ugliness” and
“drabness” of the average Nebraska
town, illustrated by a dreary picture
of Anselmo. The last line of the
article smirked that the only item of
beauty was the lone windmill
outside the town.
Nebraska is not all about grain
elevators and game days, cornfields
Vennila Ramalingam
“The purpose of this
column is not to boost
up the morale of the
state. It has never been
\ low!”
and cow manure, flatlands and that
lone finger rock, windmills and a
white population.
It is more. Much, much more.
To me, Nebraska defines the
word hospitality. My experiences
here have been very positive, and
reinforced my belief in the general
goodness of people — all people.
If my columns conveyed an
idyllic, sometimes unrealistic
picture of the world, Nebraska is
one reason for that.
I have not lived in other parts of
Nebraska except Lincoln, and
mostly on campus. I may not be
justified in generalizing my campus
experiences to the rest of Nebraska,
but my interaction with the Lincoln
community and the state at large has
been mostly positive.
There is ignorance. And there is
prejudice. Name one place on Earth
that is free of these evils.
But here in Nebraska, there is also
an overwhelming eagerness to learn.
The purpose of this column is not
to boost up the morale of the state. It
has never been low!
A good many Nebraskans who have
never left the Midwest claim that
there is no place like Nebraska.
While the pride is justified,
sometimes I feel it’s for all the
wrong reasons.
There is life beyond football.
There is life beyond the borders of
the state and yes, the country.
Sitting here in the heart of
America, land of plenty, it IS very
easy to forget about the problems
plaguing the world. Abject poverty
and absolute pain could not be more
unreal. It is very easy to become
focused internally and be preoccu
pied with ourselves.
But sitting here, in the “middle of
nowhere,” I have learned more
about other countries, including this
one, than one could possibly
imagine.
And in my column I have tried to
bring some attention to some of the
global and not-so-global issues that
were nevertheless close to my heart,
even though it looked totally out of
place amidst football fantasies.
And through my column, if I
have reached at least one person and
made him or her think and look at
things from a different perspective, I
would consider this endeavor a
grand success — in addition to the
sheer pleasure of writing.
I have really cherished this
opportunity to reach out to the
people of Nebraska. Writing this
column was a dream come true.
I am not leaving UNL yet. So if
you see me on campus, (very likely
you would never recognize me
through this photograph), join me
for a chitchat.
Until then, adios amigos.
RamaliBgam Is a Dally Nebraskan col
umnist and a graduate student in computer
science.
U.S, mobilizes for Bosnians
This week, as we lower our
shoulders and shuffle through dead
week, preparing for the dreaded
final exams, thousands of our
contemporaries are preparing for a
test in which failure means more
than having to repeat French class
next semester.
They are preparing for battle.
Already, 700 U.S. soldiers are
packing their bags in preparation for
deployment this week. They will be
inching their way through the
Bosnian hills, preparing the way for
a wave of 20,000 U.S. troops who
will soon join them, even as we are
cramming for this semester’s last
flurry of tests.
As we sweat over the rules of
grammar or the equation for the
volume of a cylinder, they will be
sweeping the terrain for land mines
and booby traps.
As we look forward to Christmas
with our families, swapping stories
by a crackling fire, they prepare to
face the crackling sound of gunfire.
I don’t envy them. I don’t envy
anyone sent anywhere to fight, and
possibly die, for this or any other
country.
And although I don’t necessarily
support sending 20,000 Americans
to take part in someone else’s war, I
can’t help but admire, at least a
little, the Clinton administration’s
decision to send in the troops.
After years of made-for-TV wars,
served up nightly by CNN and the
Reagan and Bush administrations
(maybe in that order), we finally
have a leader willing to take an
unpopular action, simply because it
seems like the right thing to do.
Bear in mind: Bosnia is no
Grenada, Libya, Panama or even
Persian Gulf. It is a quagmire of
hazardous terrain, fervently held
beliefs and barbaric (even by the
standards of war) acts. It is not a
major producer of oil. It is not, no
matter what anyone says, vital to the
security interests of the United
States.
And it is not, most importantly, a
quick and dirty way for President
Clinton to boost his popularity
Doug Peters
“They are going as
peacekeepers, ’ we are
told. Going to separate
the warring factions
tearing apart an area
most American high-;
schoolers couldn’t find
on a world map. ”
ratings.
Yet still those thousands of
troops are readying themselves for
the task.
They are going as “peacekeep
ers,” we are told. Going to separate
the warring factions tearing apart an
area most American high-schoolers
couldn’t find on a world map. Going
to stand on a side of beef and shout
“sit!” at the starving Rottweilers on
each side.
But above all, going because
what is happening in Bosnia—
indeed, as critics point out, what has
been happening there for centuries
— must be stopped.
How can we, as a nation profess
ing a love for values and decency,
stand by and simply watch genocide
unfold before our eyes? If America
is to remain what we claim it is ^— a
world leader — we have a responsi
bility to help restore order in
Bosnia.
Furthermore, if the presidency is
to remain what we claim it is—a
position of authority, commanding
respect from American citizens and
leaders abroad—we have a
responsibility, not necessarily to
agree with, but at least to support,
Clinton’s actions.
Right now, not many people are
doing that.
The Sunday World Herald
reported that correspondence
received by area representatives has
been overwhelmingly against
involvement in Bosnia. There is
little hope for a lasting peace in the
area, these letters rather uniformly
state, and why, even if there were a
chance, should we spend tax dollars
to stabilize an area so very far away,
with so very little to offer us in
return?
By the same logic, why would we,
as individuals, come to the aid of a
stranger being beaten on the street?
Why would we step in and break up a
fight? Why would we put ourselves at
risk in a show of compassion for the
victim of a crime?
Maybe we wouldn’t.
Maybe our country is ready to step
out of the role of world leadership it
has filled for so many years.
Maybe Americans are ready to
turn their eyes inward, putting
individual well-being above all else.
Maybe we have just stopped
caring.
And, maybe, just maybe, that’s
the way it should be.
But tell that to Zlata Filopovic, the
Bosnian girl who became famous
through her diary detailing the
hardships of life in her war-tom home.
She, like millions of other children in
Bosnia, is a victim of being bom in
the wrong place at the wrong time.
She is hoping for peace. Thousands
like her don’t have the luxury of
looking forward to peace anymore;
they are gone. Thousands more will
die if the fighting is not stopped.
For once, it’s not for oil or for
the containment of an ideology. It’s
for people.
Which is really more important
to us?
Peters Is a graduate student of journal
ism and a Dally Nebraskan colnmalst
/4 Cette*... from the
Jumping into season
spoils the holidays
Adria Chllcote
Christmas is a holiday I enjoy.
I like the food. I like giving and
getting presents. I like finding out
what Santa stuffed in my stock
ing.
But I hate that damn Christmas
spirit.
I hate that it comes so early. I
saw Christmas decorations in
stores and on houses before
Thanksgiving, and that’s going
way too far.
I say that the beginning of
December is a decent time to put
up decorations, but mid-Novem
ber is just obscene.
I hate that it’s everywhere I go.
I can’t even go walking down the
street without being reminded that
it’s the Christmas season.
The spirit of Christmas has
puked all over the downtown
area; no light pole has been
spared.
This year I’ve discovered
something new to detest ^bout
Christmas: It’s the Christmas
carols piped through the campus
every half-hour.
I feel like it’s trying to
brainwash everybody. Like there
are subliminal messages through
out the songs.
I’m sure that the music is just
another part of the whole extrava
gant conspiracy to get everyone
to spend more money on presents
that no one’s going to like
anyway.
Sometimes when I m walking
around campus, I feel like I’m
trapped in some kind of twilight
zone. All of the people milling
around me have been put in a
hypnotic trance by the Christmas
music ringing in the air.
All of a sudden I’m right in the
middle of this society where ail of
the people are being controlled by
some psycho in a Santa suit at the
top of a bell tower.
Other times when various
Christmas carols are chiming
their way into my brain, I feel like
I’m inside somebody’s huge
demented music box.
Pretty soon they’re going to
get sick of listening to it and
they’ll close the lid. Everything
will grow dark, and all movement
will stop until somebody else
decides to open up the box once
again.
While I was walking through
campus one day, I was listening
to ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed
Reindeer’ and damning to hell the
fiend who had thought up the idea
“While I was walking
through campus one
day, I was listening to
■Rudolph the Red
Nosed Reindeer ’ and
damning to hell the
fiend ivho had thought
up the idea to build a
bell tower. ”
to build a bell tower.
I was relieved when the cursed
tune ended. Then I realized that
the song was going ‘round and
‘round in my head. I felt like
screaming and beating the thing
out of it. I felt possessed by an
evil demon song.
I hate all of the really cute and
happy things that go along with
Christmas. I think there’s a point
where cute can go too far. Then it
turns rancid.
Take TV commercials, for
example. I can’t take all of those
happy, singing, shopping people.
If any of them were actually
real, I would say that they’ve got
to be psychologically disturbed to
be that happy. They have to be in
danger of straining some facial
muscles from smiling so much.
The remote control to my
television has been lost for years.
So instead of pushing the mute
button when an offensive com
mercial comes on, I must resort to
closing my eyes, plugging my
ears and humming a tune (or just
moaning if I’m in a particularly
bad mood).
witn an tne stun 1 nate about
Christmas, it’s amazing that I
actually look forward to it.
I really do like giving things to
people. I like watching people
open their gifts.
And, of course, I enjoy
receiving presents.
But the thing I like more than
the actual receiving of a gift is the
suspense. It’s fun to see a bunch
of presents sitting under the tree
and wonder what they are.
Another thing I like about it is
that I kind of get to act like a kid
again. I get to feel that old
excitement of years ago when I
go to bed on Christmas Eve, and
when everyone goes downstairs
to discover their filled stockings.
So I’m not a complete grinch. I
do like the holiday.
I just don’t like how it has that
nasty habit of taking over the
entire country.
My ideal Christmas would be
like this: No decorations until
about‘a week before Christmas
day. Minimal holiday commer
cials. Absolutely no carols being
drummed into everyone’s head. A
And no abundance of cute, happy,
singing people.
I don’t think it’ll ever happen.
I just hope it doesn’t drive me
absolutely mad.
Cbikote Is a freshman women's s tild
es major and a Dally Nebraskan colum
nist.
BE OUR GUEST
The Daily Nebraskan will present a guest columnist each Monday.
Writers from the university and community are welcome.
Must have strong writing skills and something to say.
Contact Mark Baldridge c/o the Daily Nebraskan, 34 Nebraska
Union, 1400 R St., Lincoln, NE 68588.
Or by phone at (402)-472-1782.
