Staring into the abyss that is the end of Pratt pier on a starless night, I ponder: What do I have to say to wrap it all up? Four years of college, four years of Phoenix, four years of searching for the answers that never seem to come as fully formed and as perfectly straightforward as we want them to be. Four years of fighting with the administration by day and partying with the best friends I've ever known by night. Yet as I say that, I'm aware that the names and stories behind each of those administrative battles and even the friendships that got me through have been varied and constantly in flux. Then the most cliché epiphany pounds at my cerebral cortex like a jack hammer: I've changed - a lot.
I came into this institution a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, little girl from Omaha, Neb., who was bound and determined to be a doctor and change the world through programs like Doctors Without Borders and maybe one day aspire to a life in politics (very Howard Dean, no?). And now … and now I'm … and now I don't know. I don't know what I want to be when I "grow up" but I know that "grown-up Nellie" won't actualize anytime soon (or possibly ever). I know that mediocrity doesn't become me, and by mediocrity I mean mindless consumption fueled by a perverse sense of entitlement with no sense of contribution or obligation to repay the great universe for being privileged enough to be born into an upper middle class society. No sir, none of that for me. This privilege has afforded me a wonderful education and the ability to hone my critical thinking skills, which bind me in a kharmic contractual obligation the universe to surrender unto this world my skills of communication and problem solving prowess in order to make the biggest and best impact for the Good that I can. And what I've learned about politics, capitalism and the U.S. over the past four years showed me that being a doctor or a politician is not the correct path for someone with my particular talents. Spending a semester abroad, I scoured cities for people to talk to about their experiences in life as well as their impressions of America. I found frustration and anger over hypocritical policies in addition to gratitude that seemed to emanate only from tourism dollars. Who I am now is a person with a broader scope and deeper range than ever before and the fires of youth to do something with it. I am happy and confident that these changes have been positive and progressive in all the right ways.
Then I widen my scope and see that this university has changed just as much as I have over the past four years. When I arrived it was a small, private liberal arts college embedded in a richly diverse neighborhood and it is now a booming educational powerhouse churning out degrees with Guttenburgian efficiency at such a pace that it seems little LUC has entered its very own era of industrial (esque) revolution. And like the early years of the industrial revolution, there are issues of abuse, human rights violations and substantial impact on the society the revolution occurs in. This administration ignored racial profiling, refuses to answer direct questions from concerned students and has fueld gentrification. I came to this institution because the first thing you used to see walking onto campus from the el was Ignatius Loyola, proudly surveying his campus while serving as a constant reminder of the principles and Jesuit values comprising the cornerstone of this institution. I came to this university to be a person for others. Now Ignatius' person is as absent from our campus as his values, hiding behind the composite board desk of the IC for tours of incoming freshmen. No longer is Loyola a conscientious member of the community: purposefully part of a socio-economically diverse area in order to offer an under-funded neighborhood much-needed resources. No longer do we play host to community radio stations, social justice-minded leadership programs or even faith-based living communities for students. (WLUW, Magis and Agape House, respectively, have all fallen victim to cutbacks in the name of the ever-increasing endowment, whose sole purpose seems to be to build new structures named after ethically questionable CEOs.) Loyolä is now a corporation, a brand and a bureacratic clusterf---. It's up there with all the best über-companies we invest in (yeah Halliburton, woohoo ultra-greed, like ultra-violence but more ruthless).
The best part is that the fearless leader of this campaign happens to be a Jesuit priest, one of Ignatius' sworn followers. So why does this man perpetually ignore academic concerns while making it abundantly clear that he could give two shits about the people he's supposed to be guiding by saying ridiculously stupid and insensitive things such as, "some people like large classes," "maybe your kids will go here someday" and of course, "if you think the construction is bad now, wait until the summer." Oh Fr. Garanzini, I will miss you as much as I'm sure you'll miss me. But I certainly take solace in the fact that I too could come back and be the real power of this university with nothing but a bachelor's degree in communication (as your handler Mr. Wayne Magdziarz is a 1982 alumnus of that very department).
So it seems all the positive and progressive movement of my personal character has not been mirrored in the ethical spiral of my soon-to-be alma mater. If I've learned anything from this place, it is just how cutthroat politics can be and how greed creates evil where spirituality once rooted. In fact, I would say that my moral fiber has been burned by the constant disappointment of this school and then rewoven from a steel wool cynicism born of the feverish desire to never be as hypocritical as this institution.
For those of you still here, know that the seeds of change are awaiting the nourishment of student support. The new Unified Student Government Association, (though this last year was largely concerned with programming and in-house squabbles) has dedicated young members and the ear of the administration, as well as the all-important authority of appointing students to the committees who actually shape this school's policies. There are faculty and staff who really do care about the future of this university and the sooner Faculty Council, Staff Council and USGA realize that they would be unstoppable if they teamed up in their pleas to the administration, the better. But until that happens, Phon-A-Thon might as well take me off its list, because $120 grand is all you are getting as long as certain people are in charge.
Nellie b. Sires is the discourse editor.
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