Greetings, y’all! ‘Tis I, the Scarecrow, coming at you once more. You know, I should be taking advantage of my Spring Break to relax and just chill. But, something arose, and I felt compelled, no, inspired to write this column. It all started on a relaxing Sunday evening. I was just lying around enjoying my Coach re-runs (all my first year buddies will attest of my love for that show), when my mother brought to my attention that my parents had received a letter from this fine institution (the college, not the _ag) hitting them up for money. Now, being the fine supporter of this institution that I am, I asked to see this letter. Let me just say, that upon reading this letter, there was something in there that just started to bug me, providing the aforementioned inspiration.
It was the very first sentence that started to bug me. This letter started with our president saying that “Over the past few months, it has been [his] pleasure to host groups of students in [his] home for pizza and informal visiting.” As soon as I read this, I had to ask myself “Why wasn’t I, the Scarecrow (and the definition of this campus) invited?” I mean, I just had to start wondering “What must one do in order to go to our president for pizza?” Since I am one of this campus’ science majors, I decided to start looking at this logically and formulate a hypothesis. So, when we had our big Scholarship Reception at the start of this year (hey, I was there), I distinctly remember three Presidential Scholarships being awarded. OK, since they won the Presidential Scholarship, it is only right that they get a pizza on the prez. And, if this hypothesis is wrong, I ask our president “Why didn’t they get pizza?”
So, that took care of one group. Who could be in those other groups of students? It was then that my imaginary friend reminded me of that time when I was going up to the _ag office to see the former editor that there was a large grouping of students in the Faith and Life lobby. Having the inquiring mind that I was blessed with, I walked up to this group and asked who they were and where they were going. The response was they were Rez Life, and they were going to the President’s house for pizza. So, I know for sure that Rez Life has been to the President’s house for pizza. Who else? Well, the R.A.s have probably been there, because they are the premiere elitist group on campus. We have an outstanding hockey team (or so I’ve heard. I have yet to go to a game), so perhaps that hockey team has been over. But, I then came to me senses and realized it doesn’t matter who has been invited to the President’s house for pizza, the point is I HAVEN’T BEEN INVITED!!
Now that that is out of my system, I went on to read the rest of the letter. He goes on to say that our graduates have gone on to become great people. He says that based on the limited group of students that he has met, our parents must be great people. He explains some of the cool new things that our campus is doing, and that these things don’t come cheap. So, he asks for a small donation in the $200 – $500 range, and then goes on his way. Let me make clear once again that I am not upset at the president for asking for money from our folks. Things are tough all over, and hey, let’s face it, out college needs the help. So, keep asking for money. As a wise person once said, “Ask and ye shall receive.” What bugs me is how our president chose people to meet.
Let’s backtrack to my hypotheses. Who (possibly) got pizza from the president? Rez Life. The Presidential Scholarship winners. The R.A.s. the hockey team. What it boils down to is he only asked the elite of Augustana. Those with the 8.5 averages and those proving our hockey superiority. While this looks fine and dandy, he is completely ignoring the largest population of Augustana. He is ignoring people like me, people like our editors, and people like you. He is ignoring the average student.
If I could look at the numbers, we would probably see that he has only spoken with the top 10% of this college. As much as I hate to break it too you, the majority of your students here are average people, and not the top 10%. How can I put this in mathematical terms? Your survey lacks the randomness required to make it a true survey of the students. You had to have more (for lack of a better word) courage. Yes, the top 10% may represent this college’s good points, but they don’t represent this college as a whole. And this opens up the door for what I’m about to say.
Mr. President, I am now speaking directly to you. In this letter you sent to all our folks, you say that “[you] wish that [your] schedule allowed [you] to meet every student in this way.” If you really mean that, then I wish to cordially invite you to be a special guest on my program, Chaos in a Box, Wednesdays at 9 on CLCR. I’ll have my people call your people, and we’ll work out a Wednesday night that you are free. Well, I don’t have any people, so it will be me calling your people. So, Mr. President, if you wish to meet at least one more of your students, one who is a little more average than the rest, then come on my show. And hey, I’ll spring for the pizza. What do you like? I’m a beef and mushroom man myself.
And to the rest of those students who have never been to the President’s house for pizza, he says he wants to meet you. Why don’t you invite him over? Talk to your fellow students and make a floor event out of it. If you live off campus, have him over to your house. To spice things up, get a bucket of chicken instead of a pizza. We are all in this together. We know our president means well and we know he’s trying his best to bring this campus into the next century. So the least we can do is get to know each other. Goodnight, everybody!
Don’t forget, if you didn’t like this column, then you’ll probably hate my show, Chaos in a Box with the Scarecrow, Wednesdays at 9 on CLCR. Tune in for my forthcoming special guest, President Richard Husfloen.