| Overeducated
Sometimes we take our education for granted at TCU. When we sit and complain about how hard it is to register for classes, others will never get the chance to register at all. High school students whose parents have immigrated to this country are facing obstacles when it comes to attending college. They have followed the same education path that many of us have followed, taking Advanced Placement courses, being leaders of student councils and playing sports. But they will not be able to apply their high school success to higher education. In order to attend college, they must show proof they are legal Texas residents to pay in-state tuition at a Texas college. If they cannot show proof of residency, they must pay out-of-state tuition, which most cannot afford. "About December, they fall into a blue funk depression because it hits them," Linda Hoffer, a counselor at South Hills High School, said in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. "Their friends are taking the SATs. They are about to start a new stage of their lives. And these students have overeducated themselves. It can be really devastating." According to the Star-Telegram, a strong North Texas economy is luring workers from south of the border, and area school districts are seeing an increase in the number of students who cannot speak English. The students come with their families looking for a better life but only find even more obstacles that they must overcome. Higher education is one of the United States' biggest commodities. Many come from around the world to study under some of the best professionals. We as students under this system should appreciate the extent of the education we are receiving. So don't sweat the small stuff. If you don't want to write your 10-page paper, there's probably an immigrant student who gladly would.
S.C.'s Confederate flag insult to blacks A small pang of regret fills my heart, for I once hoped to take a long, leisurely vacation in South Carolina one day. I've heard its beaches are inviting during the oppressive summer heat. But from what I understand, me and my kind ain't welcome there. The flag that adorns South Carolina's statehouse hasn't proven very fortuitous for black people in the past. Nor the present. The Confederate flag has flown defiantly atop the statehouse dome since 1962, agitating race relations in the heart of Southern culture. Even the prospect of a national tourism boycott headed by the NAACP hasn't lessened the fervor of some South Carolina legislators and many Confederate heritage groups. Gov. Jim Hodges has tap-danced around the issue, promising not to remove the flag, but will approve a "compromise" enacted by the state legislature. A fair compromise according to me - Take it down. The Confederate flag, which stands for domination, humiliation and corruption, is not the image a statehouse should want to project. To deny that the "Stars and Bars" is anything other than a slap in the face to minorities, is to lie to yourself. The most alarming fact about South Carolina's choice of capitol decoration is that it wasn't chosen until 1962. 1962? According to history books, the Civil War officially ended in 1865. And so, South Carolina waited almost a century to introduce a little piece of degradation to the state government. When some of the good black people of South Carolina said, "Hey, this poses a bit of a problem for us," nothing happened. For future reference, when black people usually have a problem with things concerning the Confederate flag, nothing happens. Such was the case with slavery, for which the Confederate flag is intimately connected in the minds of most black people. Hence, the NAACP boycott. Ten years ago at Harvard University, a female student hung the Confederate flag outside her window on the fourth floor of her dormitory. Let us assume, as Harvard often does, that its students are among the brightest of academic stars. From the mouth of Brigit Kerrigan, "If they talk about diversity they're gonna get it. If they talk about tolerance they better be ready to have it." So Kerrigan, being the brilliant Harvard student, had an idea of what the Confederate flag means. Harvard eventually prevailed upon her to take down the debating point, but not until Kerrigan was ready to do so. She had her rights, after all. And considering the argument that the Ku Klux Klan flies the Confederate flag, she noted that they flew the American flag too. And of course, she said, no one is ready to take that one down. Kerrigan did have her right to free speech and things pertaining to that. But the problem wasn't the speech, it was the content of the speech. Kerrigan didn't pick the Hungarian national flag, a beach towel or a "Tuck Fexas" T-shirt. She picked the Confederate flag as her arguing point. Smart girl, that Kerrigan. Apparently she knows exactly what the flag stands for. She also knew whom the flag would offend (remember, "If they talk about tolerance they better be ready to have it.") So did South Carolina. To black people, the flag stands for oppression. To some South Carolina legislators and Confederate heritage groups, the flag stands for absolute power and lording that power with a mighty stick. Power that can only be obtained with handcuffs or anti-affirmative action programs or even slavery. South Carolina, the only state that still flies the Confederate flag atop its statehouse, really doesn't have much of a choice here. Flags, which can be considered the symbol of a nation (or state), can be removed. But what remains in the heart of the people can't. So South Carolina has chosen the symbol that most accurately conveys its feelings. The Confederate flag it is. Too bad. For me. But on the other hand, I've heard a lot of good things about California's beaches. They don't fly the Confederate flag there either.
Joel Anderson is a senior news-editorial journalism major from Missouri City, Texas. He can be reached at (jdanderson@delta.is.tcu.edu). Pro-death penalty facts blurred The United States is the only industrialized Western nation that still practices the death penalty. While justice is, and should be, an essential ideal in our society, the death penalty as it is practiced in America is unfair and should be abolished. The death penalty has been a lively source of debate for many years. Both sides of the argument have many valid points, and one can argue persuasively both for and against the death penalty. Traditionally, these arguments have been purely moral and ethical, often based on religion. For example, the Bible has been used in arguments both for and against the death penalty, with references given to verses that say "thou shalt not kill" and, on the other side, "an eye for an eye." With the upcoming execution of political prisoner Mumia Abu-Jamal, these types of arguments are sure to surface in the debate about his Dec. 2 execution. Being that I am void of morals and ethics as defined by the state, you will not hear these types of moral arguments from me. I do, however, object to the biased, inhumane and unfair practice of capital punishment as it exists in the United States. Capital punishment in America is some sort of idiosyncratic lottery. According to the United States Department of Corrections, only one in 15 convicted murderers is sentenced to death, and half of those sentenced to death are set aside on appeal. How does the judicial system decide which of the convicted felons are to be given the death penalty? The death penalty is inflicted disproportionately on minorities and the poor. Those who can afford quality representation are much more likely to receive a lesser sentence than those who cannot. For this reason alone, the death penalty is unfair in practice and should be abolished. However, there is more to the practical argument against the death penalty. For one, it can be, and has been, used in error. In fact, recent research by Hugo Adam Bedau has shown that 23 people are known to have died wrongfully at the hands of the death penalty in America since 1900, and an additional 300 were sentenced to death before they were absolved of the crime. Every year, one or more on death row is shown to be innocent. As is obvious by the nature of the punishment, once imposed, the death penalty is impossible to reverse. Therefore, because of the imperfections of the judicial system, the death penalty should be replaced by life imprisonment in the United States. Proponents of the death penalty argue this point by saying that putting convicted criminals to death is less expensive than imprisoning them for life. After all, the cost of a little electricity or an injection is obviously less expensive than the cost of life imprisonment, right? Wrong! On the contrary, there is quite a bit of evidence that holds that life imprisonment is much cheaper than application of the death penalty. Because of the extent that the legal system is involved in the application of the death penalty and its aftermath, the cost of putting a prisoner to death is higher than life imprisonment without parole. The argument that it is cheaper to put a prisoner to death is both naive and erroneous, so don't believe it. All of this being said, it is obvious that the death penalty is inefficient and unjust. However, if it could be proven that putting convicted criminals to death deterred potential murderers from killing in the future, then there would be a credible argument stating that the death penalty should remain in our society. After all, if murdering one could set the precedent for saving the lives of 100, then it would be worth it. However, there exists no evidence supporting the claim that the death penalty deters potential murderers. The real criminal is the system that ignores these arguments and continues to implement the death penalty. The real criminal is the U.S. citizen who, like an common murderer, dehumanizes the victims of state capital punishment and supports the death penalty. The United States is in the company of such nations as Iran and China in continuing to enforce the death penalty. Although we like to think of ourselves as a nation of morals amidst other barbaric and inhumane nations, it is really we who are the murdering barbarians, both at home and abroad.
Zachary Norris is a senior biology major from Long Beach, Calif. He can be reached at (pookyson@hotmail.com). Letters to the editor Alumna offers advice: Suck it up and study at Ol' South I occasionally peep in on the Skiff's Web site to see what's going on back home in the land of the Horned Frogs. And for the most part, I am amused and impressed to see that student life at TCU is carrying on much the same as it was when I was there a few years ago. In response to Shavahn Dorris' column (Nov. 3), I was especially tickled by the author's plea to faculty members to recognize that students have a life outside the classroom. She advises fellow Frogs, "If it's 4 a.m., you have a paper due, and you haven't slept for two days, don't do it." My advice, as a survivor with the degree well behind me, would be "Definitely do it." It's not as hard as you think to manage your time in college. I look back and know I could've done better. At one point, I was working three jobs, and finishing my homework seemed an impossible feat. I'm not sure how I managed to do it, but I know I did, all the while having a whole lot of fun. I certainly agree with the ideology that promotes enjoying your college years and getting the most out of the experience. But for most of you, you may end up looking back on four or more years and realize that you might have finally been ready to buckle down right about the time you were graduating. A lot of people only get one chance to do the higher education thing. So if it's 4 a.m., and you have a paper due, don't try to take advantage of your professors (who honestly do realize your life extends beyond Reed Hall). Suck it up, grab your bleary-eyed roommate who's in the same position as you, head to Ol' South, buckle down and race against the sun. It's a great TCU tradition.
Leigh Anne Robison Arceneaux Class of 1996
Opponents of abstinence article misunderstand the point It seems that in all of this fuss about SheriAnn Spicer's column about sex education, her original point has been overlooked. She was not arguing against abstinence itself. She felt that for a sex education program in a public school to teach abstinence only is dangerous. I agree. The purpose of sex education is to let students know the consequences and responsibilities that accompany sexual activity and to show them their options - from condoms to abstinence - for protection. Let's face it, the youth of America do include a large number of sexually active individuals. It is not the school's place to say, "Don't have sex," but instead to say, "Here are all of the possible ways to protect yourself." It is irresponsible and neglectful for a public school to focus only on abstinence when many of the students in all likelihood are already having sex. I applaud Spicer for trying to enlighten us of a dangerous policy, and I am disappointed in those who missed the point and assumed her statement was "Abstinence is bad."
Cori Troxel sophomore history major Skiff shows inconsistency in "first-year" term usage I would like to counter Kristen Naquin's column "What's in a name? More than you think." In this commentary, Naquin discussed the recent vote in the Faculty Senate to change the name "freshman seminar" to "first-year seminar." I opposed this action in the Senate because of the possibility that transfer students might mistakenly assume they could register for these courses. Although Naquin quoted me at length and admitted the issue I raised was a "valid concern," she then dismissed the solution as "simple." I could not help but be amused, therefore, when I opened the Nov. 5 issue of the Skiff and read the lead article "Weekend getaway set for freshman leaders." Not once, but twice, the Skiff stated that "freshman" and other "first-year students" were invited to attend. Student Development Services said the retreat was specifically for "freshmen," and that the Skiff article's use of the term "first-year students" was at best ambiguous and at worst misleading. It is a simple fact that many new transfer students to TCU think of themselves as "first-year" students at TCU, even though they might be in their second or third year of college. The editorial staff of the Skiff should consider taking the simple advice of their own campus editor - either use the word "freshman" or use the term "first-year," but not both!
Bruce A. Elleman assistant professor department of history |
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