A scandal has a way of wrecking a column. Until last Thursday, I was prepared to write a meditation on the influence we as students and young people can have on our campus and local community. It looked to the coming city election where former UA students positioned themselves to win close School Board races. Praise was garnered, lessons learned.
Luckily, that column didn’t run.
That these alumni, while maybe not individually corrupt, secured their influence from a system built on foul play disappoints me. But I don’t want to talk about the Machine or even the alleged egregious conduct on election day (I urge you to read professor Paul Horwitz’s letter). There’s a deeper issue at play.
A question haunts our campus: Who really runs The University of Alabama? Is it a secret, largely male-dominated and racist organization known as the Machine? Probably. But I also think it’s whoever really wants to. Put simply, it’s up for grabs.
As a student who’s seen the Machine’s unfettered dominance for years, I can only muster a half-hearted groan for what happened last week. To those shocked by the tactics witnessed, welcome to The University of Alabama. The Machine has perfected its bad habits in SGA elections for years, and our apathy as the body politic has been there to reinforce them.
Our University, like many institutions, enjoys equilibrium. Each year a scandal will supposedly “outrage” students and faculty, but only for a few weeks. We quickly forget and move on to more pressing matters – such as new buildings and national “achievements” to celebrate.
A university that continues to improve in enrollment, awards and test scores, but never in character, shouldn’t be surprised by what follows. The University is losing its charter of civic duty. For that we’re all responsible.
It’s easy (and fair) to blame our problems on a secret society built on injustice. It’s even easier to paint the entire greek system and administration as intransigent and corrupt. But until we as students and faculty, and greeks and independents decide to finally care about this issue long enough to make a difference, we really can’t complain.
In light of Thursday’s contribution to our national embarrassment, I kept hearing students say, “the times they are a-changin’,” simply because the scandal went public. What we like to forget is that our backwardness and apathy aren’t autonomous winds that blow where they will (to use another Dylan reference). To change these times takes initiative. The “present now will later be the past” only if we make it so. It’s time to stop singing about our University’s failures. It’s time to start swimming.
I ended my original column with what I thought was a rousing call to action. It proclaimed: “No, we are not the ones we’ve been waiting for – but we can be.” I guess that’s still true. But our problems as a university – and now a city – are too institutionalized to deal with as students on the rare occasions feel affronted. We must demand a sustained commitment from fellow students, faculty and administrators to do more because this corruption is too destructive to leave up to someone else’s accord.
Hopefully it won’t take yet another scandal for us to finally start working together to open the still-closed doors at the Capstone.
Ross Green is a senior majoring in history and economics. His column runs biweekly on Tuesdays.
