I’m about as ready to give up my summer vacation as I am to put a bullet through my head.
Having no suicidal tendencies, it should be safe to assume that I’ve been clinging to my last few days of freedom with surreal dread. Summer? What summer?! I grew up with this silly notion that vacations were for laid-back idleness and good times, but it seems to me that aside from the scalding heat, the most I got out of this summer were 12 UC units, a painful sunburn and a lot of bad news.
All summer, there wasn’t one moment where I could flip through the channels, turn a page in the paper or scan a Web site without being accosted by gruesome news: There was the lingering search for Natalee Holloway in June, the London train bombings in July and the threat and subsequent carnage of Hurricane Katrina in August and September. Ranking as the 10th deadliest natural disaster in American history, it doesn’t take a psychic to realize that campus organizations will be scrambling this Welcome Week, if not for the rest of the year, to fulfill one goal and one goal only — donations to offset the destruction wrought by Katrina. A grand ambition of national proportions, the relief effort is a beautiful show of unification, which inevitably raises the question: Can there be too much of a good thing? If every booth, every organization and club on campus, if not most of the country, dashes to the rescue of one cause, who will champion the day-to-day tragedies of local and national poverty, sickness and need?
A prime example of this recent trend is the Red Cross. Although the Red Cross publicly encourages donations to be made to the National Disaster Relief Fund, it is seeing a surge of funds specifically restricted to Hurricane Katrina relief — which is particularly worrisome because the general disaster fund, at last count, was at less than half its desired balance. Katrina has already overshadowed local donations in cities such as Vallejo, Calif., where unrelated nonprofits are seeing a dip in giving while struggling to maintain local humanitarian efforts. The Indian Ocean tsunami aid appeal last year similarly slowed donations toward other disaster relief efforts of less dramatic proportions. The current famine in Niger and the recurring droughts in Ethiopia have garnered little media attention — and have received a proportional amount of aid.
The generalization of the mentality of most people I know would be that of “The Donor.”
The Donor can be typified as the average passerby, perhaps with a penchant for donating twenties found under the couch, or full bottles of change once in a long while. In essence, The Donor is a creature of habit who commits to a cause or two a year, while shelving out a mere pittance for other charities of noted value in the meantime, and wakes up satisfied of humanitarian urges thereafter. While agencies scramble to focus on one crisis at a time, the people who suffer continually will need the help of The Donor just as they did before Hurricane Katrina, even if The Donor has only so deep a pocket for so many causes. Hopefully, Library Walk this Welcome Week will reflect the global sense of giving, and Katrina, rather than simply diverting money from one cause to another, will inspire a new breed of do-gooders instead — the type that will be better able to stick it through with the long-term business of the restoration of New Orleans.
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That aid efforts for Katrina are on track to exceed those of Sept. 11 and the tsunami — even in such an economic environment — sparks an awe of the human spirit. It’s no secret that the average car’s gas tank has become a bottomless pit into which half of one’s paycheck can be deposited. Coupled with the prohibitive cost of student parking passes and the fact that I don’t have many “S” spots to return to at Warren College anyway, I’m downright ecstatic that I’m not bringing my car to San Diego, something that would have been unheard of last year. Forced into carpooling for the past three years, I had hoped that my senior year would see a newer, independent me. Me, groveling for a ride? Not this year! Unfortunately, my $20 can’t stretch quite like it used to at the gas station, and has since decided that it would prefer to stay in my pocket for the luxury of coffee runs and midnight snacks, among other things.
In the end, it seems to me that I have two options when it comes to putting a price on independence — moving to Venezuela where gas is currently 12 cents a gallon, or finding another job. While a job may seem reasonable at first, I have braved Career Services often enough to realize that the fall quarter rush is not for me. Being the lab nerd that I am, I know that jobs for even the most menial of duties (think biohazardous waste disposal) have insanely competitive application pools, especially at the beginning of the year. As a freshman, I fantasized about cancer research and cell cloning — and was turned away from “mice coupling” after my interviewers informed me that they had received over 100 applications … not only from over-eager first years such as myself, but from seasoned juniors and seniors with loads more desperation and a transcript of course skills to offer. Yep, no contest. It was the first time in my life that I had tasted bitter defeat in the job market and though the past few years has definitely jaded me to that particular experience, I still carry the lingering fear of the stampede that is fall quarter job-hunting. I wouldn’t wish such psychological scarring on anyone.
I’m not going to weep over my lost summer. Yes, I may have squandered it on things of my own making, summer school included, but it did bring to the forefront issues that have been disregarded in the past: the need to deal with situations such as the appalling condition of the impoverished side of New Orleans before Katrina; or Americans learning a new respect for the high gas prices that have long been felt in other parts of the world. And sunscreen.
