Idiots Deluxe

I live in a college town, and for a college town, there sure are a lot of stupid people living here. Now, this isn’t going to turn into a rant against students and the poor choices they sometimes make. To be honest, students are a double-edged sword—they bring a lot with them, and add to, the town, but on occasion they don’t make the best of neighbors or local residents. If I didn’t like this town and gown arrangement, I could’ve moved away many years ago. But you can’t fault students entirely for the bad choices they make or their lack of driving skills. After all, part of the reason they’re here is to attend the university in an attempt to turn water into minds. For many, their time here is their first real taste of independence from their family. Making bad choices should be part of the learning experience as well.

Today, the stupidity comes from the university itself. The institution has been engaged in a five-year capital fundraising campaign in an effort to raise $500 million, a modest sum compared to other schools, such as Vanderbilt, Duke University, and the University of Pittsburgh, who have set their sights on $1 billion or more. Our school now finds itself in year three of its five-year mission, seeking out new worlds and new civilizations, to boldly beg for money where no man has begged before. And our prime directive to date has yielded only sixty percent of the total amount the university would like to raise. Clearly, the alumni have not ponied up like it was thought they would.

So what does a school do when the alumni give you the brush off? Turn to the faculty and staff instead! That’s right, today kicks off the faculty and staff phase of their capital campaign, which I think is a gutsy move to make and very timely too, as I watched Titanic last night for the first time in quite a while and there are many comparisons between the two. Like the ship, the capital campaign’s stern is rising into the air and the faculty and staff will now play the role of the lifeboats.

This is a gutsy move on the university’s part because of salary issues on campus. Your relative importance to day-to-day operations is inversely related to your salary. Those who keep the campus going and looking nice get paid squat, at or just above the poverty line; and to be paid at that rate in the South means you’re not making that much money to begin with. Those on campus who could disappear like Judge Crater with no impact on the campus’ daily functions are the ones making the nice six-figure incomes. Then there are those of us who are crammed in the middle, not doing too badly salary-wise but squeezed by perpetual increases in insurance premiums, pathetic annual raises, losing four percent of our gross salary off the top to pay into a retirement system, and paying to park where we work (can you believe that nonsense?). This place is the only employer I’ve worked for where you can get a raise and end up in worse shape financially.

To solicit money from the faculty and staff is a novel idea, but perhaps it would’ve been better to enact such an effort from the beginning, not halfway through when it looks like you’re turning to your B-list for funds with just a hint of controlled desperation. Besides, asking for money from people who are living at the poverty line or dealing with two percent salary increases being coupled with ten percent insurance premium increases, is a recipe for failure. And as an alumnus of this university, I’d have to say thanks for the ulcers and all the hassles with my financial aid, but my time here wasn’t important enough to give you any more free money.