Opinion
ito/tNebraskan
Since 1901
Editor Sarah Baker
Opinion Page Editor Jake Glazeski
Managing Editor Bradley Davis
Just rewards
Athletic department decision
unfairly breaks promises
They're pretty elementary principles: If you
promise someone you'll do something - do it.
And by all means, treat people how you want to
be treated.
By the time people get to college, it’s hoped
their senses of personal ethics are developed
enough to embrace those two ideas.
Unfortunately, the University of Nebraska
Athletic Department embraced neither when it
announced Monday it would take an ax to the
Nebraska Spirit Squad's funding.
The Athletic Department, taced with a sub
stantial budget overrun, cut all out-of-state
scholarships to NU cheerleaders and Scarlet
dance team members.
This, without any notice given to people who
have sacrificed blood, sweat and tears to support
NU teams.
And this, without any notice to people who
have likely planned their next one to four years at
UNL banking on a tuition discount
Shawn Perry, a senior cheerleader from out of
state, said in a Wednesday Daily Nebraskan story
he, and most of his out-of-state friends, couldn't
afford to return to UNL without the tuition con
cession.
To be fair, the Athletic Department had to find
somewhere to trim fat from a sometimes glut
tonous program — during the 1999-2000 fiscal
year, the department was about $250,000 over
budget
It was plain mean, though, when the Athletic
Department decided to eliminate all out-of-state
cheerleading scholarships with apparent disre
gard to the feelings or plans of the people whom
die cuts affect
The Athletic Department said the decision
was purely budgetary, but no decision that
affects people directly is just about dollars and
cents.
Barry Swanson, the department’s assistant
marketing director, said cutting cheer funds was
the “only option” to make up for shortfalls.
But certainly department bean counters
could have found other superfluous spending
that could be trimmed before dramatically cut
ting funding to a program - basically, in some
cheerleaders’ words, sounding the death knell
for a good cheerleading program.
Especially when a good number of out-of
state students were recruited to cheer under the
premise they would get tuition discounts.
Many of these students say now they can’t
afford to return to UNL next year if they’re
expected to pay out-of-state tuition.
The least the department could have done
was allow those who have counted on tuition
discounts to continue receiving the discount
until they graduate - that way the Athletic
Department would be fulfilling its promise.
Certainly in the world of cut-throat business,
people lose their jobs without notice in moves
big businesses say are necessary to remain nim
ble and competitive among their competitors.
And the NU Athletic Department is a big busi
ness of sorts-its budget was $39 million last year.
But it’s also part of a larger academic institu
tion - one that's supposed to espouse the values
important to maintaining a just society.
In dealing with 20-something students who
have committed their talents to the university, it’s
not right for the Athletic Department to have
broken its commitment to them.
A Fortune 500 company might have right and
reason to slash its employee rosters, but a unit of
an institution of higher education shouldn’t run
like Berkshire Hathaway.
Instead, cost-cutting efforts should be made
while mindful of the fact that people are involved
and promises have been made.
Editorial Board
Sarah Baker, Jeff Bloom, Bradley Davis, Jake Glazeski,
Matthew Hansen, Samuel McKewon, Kimberly Sweet
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Unsigned adRorials are the opinions of the Spring 2001 Daily Nebraskan. They do not necessarily
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NealObenneyer/DN
Letters to the editor
Thanks, Jim...
For the record, Jim Ford, let me say that I agree
that your new grading system will be an improve
ment
What I don’t agree with is how you and the
Academic Senate turned your back on the students
to get that system.
If you'll remember back in November, ASUN
addressed the same issue. After receiving 400 e
mails on the issue, all but one against changing the
system, ASUN listened to the students and voted
against the system.
Have you forgotten so soon?
Your primary responsibility is to serve the cus
tomers of this university, its students. Good insti
tutions listen to their customers. You work for us,
not the other way around.
As for your system being in the best interest of
the students, I don’t buy it. We, as students, are
capable Of defining our self-interests; I thought we
made that perfectly clear back in November.
To the 13 ofyou who voted against this new sys
tem, thank you for listening and respecting the
voice of the students. For the other 38 ofyou, take a
step back and try to remember why you are here.
Rory Kay
Political Science, Business Administration
and Economics
Junior
For nothing!
I was under the impression that after the AS UN
worked to defeat the change in grading policy we
would not have to worry that it would be imple
mented.
This university is not known for its academic
achievement. What is supposed to happen now
that the minus system is to be implemented? GPAs
will no doubt decline.
Those with scholarships will struggle even
more to keep their grades high enough to keep
those scholarships, possibly causing some to leave
the university because they cannot afford it, like
the cheerleaders and the Scarlets.
Jennifer Erion
Criminal Justice
sophomore
Three-year promises to come
I m sorry, do I look pale
to you? I think I might be
coming down with some
thing: a bad case of prophe
cy.
The air above the valley is
juiKu u/un fiviuAJfners. 1 rivir -
shocking noise and spot- Mark
lights tear the evening sky Baldridge
into a moving grid... like the
interlocking gears of heaven.
That's what it's like, it just comes over me, a
dizzy spell.
On the ground, giant LED screens light up and
begin to glow...
And on the stage, burning in the moving spot
lights, and in the giant screens coming now on line,
appears the form of a man in a sharkskin suit and
miraculous silver hair which twitches not one inch
in its pomade, being anchored amidst the turbulent
air, apparently, like walking on water, by sheer,
heroic faith.
I wrote these words, I don’t know, about three
years ago as part of a short story.
It was published in a short-lived local zine,
Killjoy.
But it was only a story! It was all fiction in those
days.
It is the preacher and he shouts, huge speakers
shattering the choppered sky: “THUS, us, us!
SAYbTH, eth, eth! The LORD, ord, ord, ord!”
The crowd goes wild.
I swear, it’s not my fault. I was trying to be
ridiculous! I was trying to be absurd!
How was I to know my own words would come
back to haunt me in the news?
The preacher lifts his arms straight up, signaling
a touchdown for the Holy Spirit. And a roar breaks
against the ceiling of noise at the ceremonial Grand
Opening of Six Flags Over Jesus, the “largest Mall
and Christian amusement park, combined, on
Earth.”
Talk about life imitating art! Three years ago, I
thought I was being funny, imagining such a mon
strosity; I went on to describe:
The Arc of the Covenant Arcade... Pete’s
Tabernacle O’ Chocolate... and “The Pit"BarBQ
near the baptismal font where the waters gush
always red and white and blue.
I described the whole thing as “looking like
God's own spaceship double parked across from a
casino.”
And then, Monday morning, I woke up in a
world double parked across from my short story.
And so did you.
The Daily Nebraskan covered it on Tuesday:
Some preacher in Florida raised $16 million some
where and spent it all on his own Christian Disney
World.
It opened Monday to some kind of protest I
didn’t quite understand - unless it was simply a
protest of the tastelessness of “Holy Land Land,” as
I like to call it.
Spooky, isn’t it?
But this is not the first time something I wrote
as a fictional “joke” has come true with a
vengeance...
Ever heard of the Oklahoma City bombing?
I probably shouldn’t even mention it, but the
investigation's got to be closed by now and I never
met that bastard McVeigh or any of his unholy
crew.
Yeah, about three years before the tragedy, I
wrote a story - sort of a story within a story - about
some terrorists who, get this, blow up Oklahoma.
It was supposed to be funny, and it was - in the
context of the story.
I have to admit, it's not so funny now.
And neither is the bit about the amusement
park quite so amusing anymore.
In fact, the whole prospect of writing things for
fun has sort of paled ...
The question that arises now, at least in my
mind - utterly convinced that I am somehow “see
ing” about three years into the future - is:
i Which of my absurd, irreverent, even danger
ous fancies will take on flesh and go marauding
next?
Who can tell? I write a lot of crap. None of it
seems likely, and yet some of it comes true!
My advice to you is to stay tuned throughout
the semester. Clip and save everything I write.
File my words away and then, as the three-year
limit approaches, scan the headlines and try to fig
ure out what comes next!
It could be anything!
Write back...
Have a comment?
Write to
letters@dailyneb.com
But it all
starts with a
sale
It starts with
something sim
ple, like a sale
ad or buying a
present.
I don't plan
to go astray and
iau DacK into —-.
the pattern, the Yasmifl
addiction, the McEwen
destroying
habit; it just happens.
And once I am inside the cloud of
my obsession, the haze is so thick
that I can't see my way out until I've
had my fix.
The fix varies, and one time, the
fix was buying a new car - a
Mercedes Benz to be exact. Only that
time, the fix wasn’t over -1 had to
have a thousand-plus stereo
installed to complete that fix.
Another time the fix was buying
six pairs of the exact same shorts -
two in navy, two in cream and two in
beige.
I remember once I saw a show on
Oprah about people that had this
problem with compulsive shopping.
I laughed and
guffawed at the
absurdity of it all.
I remember this
woman taking the
TV crew up to the
attic in her
$200,000 home
where she pulled
out shrink
wrapped board
games, Barbie
dolls, clothes
with tags.
She was in
tears. She told
Oprah that her
husband didn’t
know, and he’d be
so mad if he
found out. Then
she got an evil
gleam in her eye
when Oprah asked her if she ever
thought she would stop. She said she
didn’t know what it would take for
her to stop.
I know the gleam. I know there is
no stopping the mission once it has
been started. I will dig my heels into
the gleaming white tile floors of the
store and say, “No, I’m not leaving
until I look at just one more powder
blue sweater.” Doesn't matter that
I’ve got, say, three back home in my
closet.
These days I’m pretty broke.
These days I have all the clothes I
need and then some.
Yet it continues.
And it will pour itself over my life
like a syrupy shame that I cannot
escape. Like so many of my obses
sions, this one is no different; there
can be no end until the fix has rim its
course.
And once I
am inside
the cloud of
my
obsession,
the haze is
so thick
that I can't
see my way
out until
I’ve had my
fix.
i was addicted to not eating
when I was in high school. My
friends and I would store cases of
Diet Coke in our lockers, and we
would ration out our pieces of bub
ble gum throughout the day.
After school, we would head
home to jump on the scale and then
don our workout clothes. I usually
spent the bulk of my evening work
ing out.
Sports weren’t for me because I
couldn’t get in enough constant
workout time.
I wanted to be able to run 10
miles and then come home and
jump on my bike and ride 15 and
then come home and do 350 sit-ups
and then stretch.
After I grew out of that obsession,
I delved into the scarier depths of
eating disorders, and it wasn't until 1
had several run-ins at the hospital
that I decided it was time to end the
quest for bodily perfection.
These days I go out to eat.
These days I feel pretty fat.
The difference is that I am no
longer puking five times a day and
running 15 miles on Sunday morn
ings "just for fun.”
There are other addictions I
could list, but for the sake of brevity,
I’ll try and get to my point.
Throughout all the trips to
Abercrombie and throughout all the
mind-numbingly monotonous bike
rides from my house out to Elmwood
and back, there lies the essence of
my obsession.
I am made of motion.
I am made of frenzy.
Some weird neurotic desire to do
things over and over again is deeply
ingrained in the grain of my bones.
Some people take drugs for this.
Some people attend meetings.
Others ignore it.
I'm somewhere in between. I rec
ognize my problem, yet I have some
strange fascination with it at the
same time.
The bottom line is sometimes ...
I like it.
