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The Banner
September 18,
Opinions
The Banner
Running to stand still
For a final word on UNCA’s plan for growth in the immediate
future, we challenge the administration’s logic as they continue
to say that their plans are not drastically changing the complex
ion of this school, when in reality, their plans will most certainly
force changes of a great degree on our student community.
To make our point, we begin with the words of Director of
Institutional Research Archer Gravely: “3,500 is as big as we
want to get.” Gravely’s statement surely means that the adminis
tration has an informal cap of 3,500 students being as big as
UNCA desires to be. We couldn’t agree more.
UNCA is currently constructing West Ridge, a dormitory that
will house an additional 150 students, with more dormitory
construction planned for the future as part of the much-bally-
hooed masterplan for growth. We assume that if these residence
halls are built, the school will recruit students who desire to live
on campus to fill them.They aren’t building them for scenery.
If this recruitment for on-campus students is done within the
informal 3,500 student cap, then these students will inevitably
replace many non-traditional commuter students who currently
make up a large number of the student population. As we said
last week, this replacement of one group of students for another
would be a travesty, since UNCA currently offers a unique
educational opportunity for-people in the community who want
to go back to/mish their educations to better themselves and,
consequently, better the community as a whole.
If this recruitment for on-campus students continues, the cap is
eliminated, and non-traditional commuters are not forced out,
then we are left with a much larger university than we have at the
moment. The administration will then face a higher student-
teacher ratio and will have the choice of rectifying the problem
by either enlarging the faculty or losing one of the main qualities
that makes UNCA so appealing in the first place—student-
teacher interaction.
Finally, much has been made of the term “FTE” (fiill-time
equivalents) and the use of FTEs in planning future growth. The
administration may very well be trying to run an efficient institu
tion by current UNC system mandates, but why are they basing
their plans for long-term growth on a system that the UNC
system is abandoning next year?
The more questions they answer, the more questions they create.
Editorial Board
Michael Taylor
Brian Castle
Catharine Sutherland
Erin King
Kyle S. Phipps
Rob Hammonds
Jeanette Webb
Nate Conroy
Editor-in-Chief
Managing Editor
News Editor
Features Editor
Sports Editor
Photo Editor
Copy Editor
Electronic Editor
Staff
Diana Abbott, Martha Ball, Angie Bryant, Sherida Frizsell, Chris
Garner, Veronika Gunter, Andrew Hart, Nancy Hayes,
Maurie Hill, Kimara Parker, Trish Parker, Robert Payne,
Darrell Sellers, Mandisa Templeton, Amanda Thorn
Megan Gulley
Del DeLorm
Advertising Manager
Circulation Manager
Columnists and Contributing Writers
Nate Conroy, Gary Gray, Caroline Castle
Mark West, faculty advisor
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A return to simplicity holds answers
Gary
Gray
People always ask the same ques
tion: “What do you do?” What do
I do? Well, you know where this is
leading. They want to know how
much moneyyou make. They don’t
want you to actually say what it is
you do, because then they’d hear
something like:
“Well, I check the apples as they
go down the conveyor belt. If I see
a bad one, I throw it into the bucket
marked ‘Bad Apples.’ This usually
lasts for about eight hours. Then,
I...”
See, you’re telling someone what
you do at work. But is that really
what you do?
HERE LIES JOHN DOE. He
checked apples. It’s what he did.
No. People want to know how
much you make so they can align
themselves socially according to
your status, or lack thereof Adults
seem uneasy about the way they
interact. Many times it’s as if they’re
being forced to interact because of
their particular, and more than likely
imagined, social role.
Bill meets Bob:
“Bill, this is Bob. He’s new in the
area—moved here from Seattle.”
“Hey Bob. Nice to meet you. I’m
Bill Data. So what do you do?”
“Director of marketing for Mega-
Tech.”
“Say, we ll have to get together at
the club and shoot a round of golf. ”
Bill meets Fred:
columnist
“Bill, this is Fred. He’s new in the
area—moved here from . . .where
did you say you were from, Fred?”
“Sulfur Gulch.”
“Sulfur Gulch?”
“Yeah, Sulfur Gulch, New Mexico.
It’s only 30 miles from Jackrabbit
Springs. So we weren’t really all
that far from the city.”
“Hey Fred. Nice to meet you. I’m
Bill Data. So, what do you do?”
“Well, Bill, I moved here in hopes
of betterin’ myself I’ve been lookin’
at the want ads, and it looks like
there’s lots of openins’ down at the
sanitation plant, so ya might say I
got kinda’ lucky. Yeeeeah, the fu-
ARTPARTS
ture looks purry bright, but I try
not to let it go to my head.”
“So, you’re in—garbage?”
“Kinda’, I guess. Funny thing is.
Bill, I never even dreamed of
becomin’ a Sanitation Engineer—
at least not without some kinda’
formal education or somethin’. You
know, we’re a lot alike, you ‘n’ me.
Wanna get together for a beer or
somethin’?”
“I’d really love to Fred, but, oh,
would you look at the time.”
“Aren’t ya gonna gimmie yet num
ber or nuthin? Say, what do you
really do anyway?”
I’m going to prepare myself for
the next time someone throws that
“What do you do” bit at me. Espe
cially when it’s obvious they only
want to hear about finances or what
it is you have that makes it worth
while for them to know you.
“What do you do?”
“I perform autopsies on space
aliens.”
“What do you do?”
“Assassin. You?”
“What do you do?”
“Very well, thank you.”
People will act in cruel ways if
they believe their social role re
quires it. That’s why I appreciate
the social life of young children so
much. When adults come upon
one another for the first time, they
are wary of each other. They don’t
trust. They are consumed with pro
tecting their ego, their pride, their
property, their comfort. It’s as if the
concept of discovery has been lost.
Children at “Anypark, USA” have
the right idea. A child will spot a
group of children playing on the
monkey bars and be drawn to them
like a sleepwalker guided by a silent
radar system. The child turns and
walks directly towards the others as
if he/she is responding to a dog
whistle which no adult can hear.
Eyes wide and curious, he/she moves
closer to the others, who stop and
look at him/her like basketball play
ers interrupted by a stranger waia
dering onto the court in the middi
of their private game.
It’s amazing, but children doni
care. What do they know aboiij
barriers? And so, the child staresJ
them while stepping a little closJ
and a little closer, with nothing bl
a facial expression that invites coui
munication, or perhaps forces
Nonetheless, curiosity controls tl
situation.
Children are not conditioned t
think in terms of separate but
social etiquette, or proper ethic
conduct. They just want in on tliLgyyisjjif
game, just want in on life. Thf^jjgs jjj
don’t care ifyou’re the son or daugl^jjjgf [jg
ter of a doctor, teacher, nianagci ^j,}y JjgQ
police officer, or CEO. And even:
barriers do exist for these childra^-jjjyj-g^
they are so minute that they can liwould he
torn down in a millisecond
simple “I got monkeybars at t
school” or “My brother gots sho;jjjgj.Q^j (
like that. ^ hours tog
Bingo! That’s all it takes. Let ^
games begin! Kids will look eai^ug pojjj,
other straight in the eye out ^
curiosity and curiosity
They’re not looking for a busintjj^jjy
advantage ora valuable contact w[.^g|.g
can do them favors. They’re "of nii
'caps jamj
setting you up. They don’t wanti^^
sell you on the idea that you
them. They just want to play. I lo’
that word, play. Adults don’t real
play as much as they should. A I:
of adults attend cocktail parties:
hit the golf course, but this is m
real play, this is agenda—as if
were a requirement, something e
pected of a person, a representatio^Qpg^
of play. There are too many ipa„mgn,
sumptions and no spontaneity p^j-jofits
just amazes me when I see childt
u
!C(
interact. It defies social convi
may
afft
Outcome, not process, the key to learning
This morning I walked out onto
my porch and sat down to listen to
the news. The air was crisp and a
slight breeze whispered from the
top of Mt. Mitchell and down onto
my shoulders. Somehow, I was not
comforted. A chill of eerie reminis
cence rang through the trees.
Five years ago, I began my college
experience at The Colorado Col
lege. It was a time of great anticipa
tion and excitement. Mygoalswere
lofty, my family supportive. The
world seemed to be opening in ev
ery direction. I knew exactly what I
wanted and how to get it. This
formula was not conducive, how
ever, to my success. I thought I
knew everything. There was no rea
son to question my purpose for
college.
Somehow, amidst the hustle, I got
lost. I very nearly finished school
there, and would have were it not
for some personal transgressions.
What was once so promising quickly
blew up in my face in a sort of
sublime penance. In March of1996,
I quit school and floated about
theStates for a year. Arizona, New
York, and then to Tennessee. The
time away had been good for me.
Separation allowed the much
needed distance so essential in the
effort to gain perspective. I decided
school was inevitable. So, last
March, I made a break. I came to
Mt. Mitchell, got a job, and applied
for school. I submitted the applica-
Alec
Bradford
columnist
tion with a sort of glaze in my eyes.
What the hell was I doing this for?
Certainly, it was an odd decision.
It was as though I believed the time
to return would never come. For a
period of time, I had allowed my
ego to convince me that I could
learn no more. What could they
possibly tell me at these institutions
of so-called “higher” learning? Per
haps this reflected a little animosity
towards my past.
Accepted at UNCA, I began classes
and found myself wandering about
campus looking at people and ask
ing questions. “Why are you here?
Is it money you want?” No. I some
how doubt that. “To better your
self?” Interesting, but I think it’s
been done. So many ideals at the
beginning, I find that only the bare
essentials remain.
I came to find the answers. Now
all I want to know is which ques
tions I need to ask.
I am excited when I meet some
one who is just underway in this
experiment. The eyes are bright.
The game awaits. This is not to say
that my game is over. It’s just that I
keep playing the wrong one.
Sometimes college seems to be a
place I could stay forever. As a
student, you gain an air of respect
ability simply by being there. Re
quirements generally revolve
around reading a book and then
reportingyour thoughts on the sub
ject. The stresses of the outside
world have a hard time penetrating
the walls of academia.
Even with a job and life outside of
school, there is a comfort that lies in
going to class, at least for the first
half of the semester. Somewhere,
usually after the first semester or
the first year, the novelty wears
away. Focus is blurred and many
students wonder what exactly it is
that the institution has to offer.
I remember friends of mine, about
the same age as myself, in New
York. Some had graduated from
high school and others had not.
ARTPARTS
Most were musicians or actors, and
a few had done quite well. They
quit their day jobs and were making
$80000 or more, driving new cars,
and eating out. For the most part,
they scoffed at the idea of going to
college. “Why do you want to put
your life on hold like that? Man,
you’re 22 years old, you go to school
to learn calculus or writing or social
babble and then what do you have?
Adegree.debt, and, ifyouget lucky,
a job. That’s ridiculous.” This ar-
tion. When I grow up, I want
a kid. And believe me. I’m coipjQgj.^jj,
stantly striving to achieve that g^^j^g jju
The Ec
pended r
Federal I
Program
processir
from stt
■ •Li ates. Thi
gument was not mcredibly persii •
sive until I decided to look up so® , ,
of my friends whom I should h*. ^
■ j • 1 »i otten wi
graduated with. Almost every tu ,,
the voice on the other end oftl™°*'j ^
Ill r Underc
line would sound angry or rru
trated. “Yeah, I’ve taken up smoi*^!7 P"'*'
ing.Ithinkl’mgoingtogradschoi. P .
Not that I want to, I just can’t fit l^^jjg^g
a job. I might have to move hoJ . ® .
for a while. It’s ridiculous!” s^^te'the
Theoutlooksimplycannotbeth^^ly
bad for everyone, but a good poi loans, E
was made. Today, with so n»cials saic
money being thrown around ai! Critics
so many different ways to concept
your life a successful one (at least; suspens
American standards), college is program
longer a ticket to a fulfilling ill “The d
The responsibility has shifted fr» grate an i
the institutions to the individui grani is
that embody them. There is (William
guarantee that a degree will provii man of
anysecurity, financial or othenvi j^g Woi
in the world today. The
The virtues of school no longer! pushed
in the outcome, rather, in the pi expensi^
cess itself I am a strong believeri tive to b
the liberal arts education, partio “The p
larly the emphasis on reading a stop she
writing. The goal, now more el ard) Rile
sive than ever, is to know how said. “N
think clearly. While I sometinfprogran
lose focus and flounder, I belif shoppin
that school teaches me, more thi Colleg
anything else, how to live in spitet, bank-a
my misgivings. The education j
receive may not bring me fame a»
fortune but, instead, the ability'
live successfully without thoi
things.
The morning news was over ani
hadn’t heard a word. I gatheredi*i
things and headed for the Parkwa^
Such a beautiful drive. Fall is
starting to show its face. In tii
season of transition, I must learnt
change with it...again. After alij
can’t be as old as I feel or as yoiu'
as I look.
Th
19!
wri
to
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