Poor tactics obscure protesters’ message

Thursday, May 28, 1998

Poor tactics obscure protesters’ message

RALLY: Potential sympathizers alienated by inaccurate slogans,
disruptive "take-over" technique

"For your own safety, we need you to evacuate the building!"
came the hurried warnings of two students, who, rushing to and fro
within my 1 p.m. Comm 150 class, had nary an obvious agenda, from
the looks of consternation and concern on their faces. My
classmates and I looked at each other in utter confusion.

Bomb scare? Earthquake? Fire drill? Try none of the above. The
orders to leave the premises for "our own safety" were issued by
protesting students, who – unbeknownst to me, my fellow classmates
and my professor – had organized a massive sit-in rally in support
of affirmative action. Conveniently located at the exact site and
scheduled for the exact time my class starts in Royce Hall, the
massive influx of students nearly ran me over as I temporarily left
my class and approached an organizer standing near the building’s
exit.

"What’s going on here?" I shouted in a characteristically
oblivious manner as protesters chanting "Affirmative!" followed by
screams from the throngs of demonstrating students responding
"Action!" drowned out my voice.

"There’s a march on affirmative action," Captain Obvious shouted
back at me.

"So there’s no class today?" I replied indignantly.

"I don’t think so," she laughed and turned away.

I returned to my class wherein people were packing their
backpacks and getting ready to leave.

To describe their expressions as anything but disdainful would
simply be inaccurate. Two more demonstrators rushed into the room:
"We need you to leave since we’ve taken over the building."
Imagining disgruntled students in ski masks who, brandishing
high-powered rifles, were storming the halls, my jaw could only
drop.

Luckily, a fellow classmate was quite a bit more responsive as
he answered, "Sorry, but we have a midterm today!" before pushing
the two out of the room and shutting the door. OK, so we didn’t
have a midterm, but that doesn’t mean what he did took guts.

But our stand could only last so long. Soon I was standing
outside Royce Hall, looking around at the dozens of students still
piling into the building, the organizers getting ready to lock the
doors and the police, who were standing around not doing anything.
That last sight struck me as odd, and I had half a mind to approach
the officer nearest me and ask the burning question, "Is this
legal?" Halting in my steps, I realized that of course it was legal
– after all, the guy wasn’t doing anything!

So how come I wasn’t impressed? After all, class had effectively
been canceled, which is always a good thing. And here were about a
100 students uniting for a common cause in a campus atmosphere that
has seemed very divisive of late. And, most importantly, I knew I
was going to be on the news.

But I wasn’t happy, proud or moved. In fact, the best word to
describe my state of mind was "annoyed." Annoyed at the ideology of
the protesting students, annoyed at the seeming lack of common
sense they were employing in choosing their methods, and especially
annoyed at the awful tone and rhythm of the chant they were
shouting.

What echoed throughout the area, in an acoustic vein that was
about as easy listening as a screaming brat seated two tables away
from you at a romantic restaurant, went like this: "Everywhere we
go-o, everywhere we go-o/ people want to know-o, people want to
know-o/ who we are-are, who we are-are."

As I walked alongside the protesters, I saw a familiar face
addressing the crowd via microphone: Liz Geyer, the USAC external
vice president-elect. I worked with Ms. Geyer in the KLA news
department last quarter (KLA is UCLA’s radio station, for those not
living five feet away from its signal) and had always found her to
be more organized, researched and cultured than myself. During one
of our programs, a fellow Viewpoint columnist made a snide remark
about affirmative action, and she rushed past me and nearly into
the on-air room, looking as though ready to pelt him.

The point is that Ms. Geyer is someone I admire and respect, and
yet she and I are on opposite sides of the affirmative action
bandwagon. And as I stood there, Ms. Geyer expressed the trials and
tribulations of those who would have the chancellor not comply with
Proposition 209, students she alleged were being turned away by an
administrative attitude that she expressed as "not having done a
fucking thing" about multiculturalism on campus.

This almost moved me to walk right next to her and grab the
microphone. After all, she probably remembered me and, not knowing
my stance on affirmative action, might have allowed me to say a few
words. I would have violated her trust doing so, but I was really
itching to tell these people what I thought of their methods and
their beliefs. But alas, I didn’t have the balls to do it,
primarily because I didn’t want to be arrested for inciting a
riot.

But what if I had? What if I had stepped up and really spoken
out against these protesters? What would I have said? I would have
told them to get a new chant, for starters. There’s nothing like
reviling any potential sympathizers than nauseating them with a
truly wrenching and loud annoyance like the one described
above.

Their slogan could use some work too; sure "people want to know
who you are everywhere you go" or whatever. But such an obvious
phrase does not reek of creativity or subtlety.

But more substantively, I would have told these people – who I
believe to be genuinely concerned about the decline in minority
enrollment – that they’re simply going about it the wrong way.
While it was ultimately a delight not having my class in Royce
Hall, the choice should be mine, not of advocate students who are
obviously trumped up by their power trips and get off by ordering
students to evacuate. I don’t take kindly to being forcefully
ejected from my everyday routine, and I doubt others do either.

In a situation as hopeless as the protesters’ – in which they
have exhausted every avenue open to them and, as such, feel they
must resort to desperate measures – there is strength in numbers.
And alienation doesn’t win you any friends.

And they should watch their metaphors. I heard a speaker compare
their fight for affirmative action with Harriet Tubman. Making the
connection does nothing but belittle what the creator of the
Underground Railroad did for this country.

Just because college students have become historically
synonymous with raging, angry protesters does not mean there is
always something out there worthy of protest. Perhaps students are
desperate for something to protest and thus grab at the nearest
loose end or short straw.

What if I was to suddenly launch a campaign to make it legal for
anyone, not just the blind, to carry canes with red tips at night?
Would I look foolish comparing my plight with the Holocaust, a
horrific event that many of my ancestors suffered through? I think
so.

Also, the constant chalking of "Stop the racism" all over campus
was a bit hard to swallow. OK, maybe you don’t like Proposition
209, but by definition, removing race as a qualifier on university
admission applications is the exact opposite of racism, since it
removes race from the equation.

I guess the underlying message is that the protesters should
have stuck to what they were really fighting for – what Proposition
209 really encompasses – and not have burdened their cause with
historical and societal buzzwords (like "Harriet Tubman" and
"racism") that many intelligent and thoughtful passers-by would so
easily be able to see through.

Not having grabbed the microphone from Ms. Geyer, I instead
returned home with my tail between my legs. When I told my roommate
about the protesters at Royce Hall who had managed the shutdown of
a major building on campus, he responded with a very succinct,
"Cool!"

Maybe that’s the bottom line.

Eric Jacks