By Wafa Ben Hassine

President, ASUCSD 9

I want to take this opportunity that The Guardian has graciously given me to apologize to you, the student. Despite our best efforts, the Associated Students student government is failing to achieve its mission and purpose.

The UC San Diego Associated Students budget now deals with 8-percent monetary cuts due to many reasons. One of these reasons can be attributed to the UC Regents’ collective decision to decrease enrollment at all campuses, with the exception of “flagship” campuses UC Berkeley and UCLA. In light of the current situation, the A.S. Council has struggled to address the budget shortfalls in a serious and responsible way.

In deciding to increase funding for on-campus concerts this year by $22,000 (in addition to the already allocated $802,349), council members have chosen to slash funding for key programs, such as college council mixers and leadership outreach programs on campus. The same council members though, had no idea where such an exorbitant sum of $22,000 would come from. Despite their good intentions, some councilmembers seem to have a severe and deleterious misplacement of priorities — one that has lead to much emphasis on trivial, short-lived entertainment events rather than long-term programs that benefit all students. These members’ decisions — albeit seemingly full of good intention — held just about as much water as the notion of UCSD funding a football team and reek of fiscal irresponsibility in a time of financial hardship.

While issues of diversity, access and affordability to our university may be a far-removed thought for a small minority of very privileged students on this campus, for the large majority of us, we confront these issues on a daily basis. Students like Albert Lin, a biochem major who works two part-time jobs and whose parents both work the graveyard shift as mail handlers at the Long Beach Processing & Distribution Center Postal Plant in order to support his college education, face the very real prospect of not being able to afford next quarter’s student fees.

The decisions of the UC Regents, the state legislature, and in particular California’s current governor (remember to vote this Nov. 2!) have been disastrous to our public education system and to our own financial futures. Fortunately, the Associated Students is a body that is composed of students that work for all students as elected representatives. We can affect these state budgetary issues in a very direct manner and raise awareness about said issues among the student body — right here and right now. And for this reason, I have tremendous hope in A.S. Counciland continue to do so, despite the feelings of doubt at times. I do believe in all that we can achieve as a diverse, yet unified, student body.

We have failed you last night, fellow Tritons. I assure you, however, that I give it my all to re-prioritize our collective focus. I know that my office will continue to work for students on these issues and continue to advocate on their behalf, prioritizing the very real and tangible issues of access and affordability that affect us throughout our daily actions and lives.

Let’s keep moving forward.

HIGHER EDUCATION — Last spring, we proved that with enough support, we have the power to change our university. After the Compton Cookout invitation went viral, stu- dents and faculty from UCSD, Compton and nearby schools came out to protest in soli- darity. With sheer numbers, UCSD sparked a revolution. But what if the students and faculty that traveled from UC Irvine, UCLA and Compton arrived only to be turned away because of a regulation that prohibited non- UCSD affiliates from protesting on campus? What if the protestors from Compton weren’t allowed to speak out and join us in solidar- ity? Would it have been as effective? Probably not.

This past month, Olympic College in Bremerton, Wash. drew attention to univer- sity free speech policies by restricting the rights of non-affiliate free speech. A non- affiliate is anyone who doesn’t take classes, teach or officially volunteer at a school.

Olympic— a public, two-year college— has declared that non-student demonstra- tors must give 48 hours notice and pro- vide a copy of materials to be distributed. Furthermore, non-affiliate protesters are limited to five hours for their demonstra- tions and can only gather in a small area called Hyde Park.

Surprisingly enough, the new regulations weren’t the reaction of uptight administra- tors, but instead were spurred by student complaints of nonstudent anti-abortion pro-testers displaying larger-than-life photos of aborted fetuses.

No one likes being told that they’re going to hell for being pro-choice, but the students are setting a dangerous precedent that they might come to regret in the future. The vague annoyance of having to tune out Library Walk’s Jesus Guy every day is not worth giving up free-speech rights. Public schools like UCSD and Olympic College should put as few restrictions as possible on free speech for citizens. While no one can fault Olympic for wanting to protect its stu- dents from stomach-turning photos, creating a one-size-fits-all restriction on protesters isn’t the answer.

If protesters are interrupting classes and hindering the students’ ability to learn, restrictions are necessary. Just as we must respect our right to free speech, as an educational institution, we must respect our peers’ right to learn.

A certain level of respect for this campus’ educational purpose must be observed. For example, the current UCSD Free Speech Policy limits amplified sound to 90 decibels, the equivalent of a heavy truck and the level at which sound damages the human ear. Also, demonstrations must not block the path of people or prevent them from arriving at their destination. Sensible restrictions such as these ensure that the exercise of one person’s rights doesn’t infringe on another’s. If people are respectfully protesting on campus, the school should have respect for the protesters’ right to be heard.

Despite the protests last spring, UCSD’s policy concerning student demonstration are liberal — but they weren’t always so progressive.

In the spring of 2007, the UCSD Free Speech Policy included a clause that any gather of students that could “reasonably be expected to attract a crowd of 10 or more people” would require a reservation from the university.

According to today’s Free Speech Policy, students can assemble or table without any type of authorization anywhere on campus. The policies for non-affiliates, however, are more restrictive, requiring permission from university officials. As we saw last year, however, exceptions can and should be made. We can only hope that if Olympic College decides to stick with its new policies, it will also use common sense in the enforcement of these rules, recognizing that there are some situations in which they can be relaxed.

Students and non-students should be able to gather anywhere that does not disrupt classes or normal university activity.

We all came to UCSD to learn and to find our path in life, but like we saw last spring, there is learning that takes place outside a classroom. College is a place to hear viewpoints you might not have been exposed to in your suburban bubble, to become aware of the people and the world surrounding you, and freedom of speech is what guarantees this exchange of ideas and positions. Schools must remember that they’re not just creating engineers and doctors, they’re nurturing the development of citizens that, today and tomorrow, will be running this country.

Additional reporting by Cheryl Hori

You surprised me. With all the shiny little gadgets within reach of your eager fingers, why could you possibly want to read something as archaic as a newspaper? Oh, I get it. You’re probably sitting on the bus trying to avoid eye contact with the person sitting across from you — that’s not awkward at all. So, stick your face in this newspaper and make it look like you’re busy.

Now, I’m not some technology Nazi. I know that not all of us are social butterflies and I do know that we need our phones, but phones, iPods and computers shouldn’t domi- nate our social interactions. They’re crutches, helping us with the insecuri- ties of dealing with others.

As Apple continues churning out cooler and cooler versions of the iPhone and Skype and Facetime make remote communication even easier, we’re losing our ability to socialize in person. As etiquette expert Jacqueline Whitmore so poignantly put it, “Some people think this technology can make us more productive. But it’s not helping us with social skills. It’s alien- ating us from other people.”

That probably reminded you to check your phone for texts. Resist, and just finish reading. I dare you.

Last week, in Cafe Roma, the girl sitting to my left was furiously typing out a wall post, the girl to my right was texting and awkwardly laughing to herself and the guy sitting at the table directly across was drooling as his iPod sweetly sung him to sleep.

So I just sat there, sipping my hot chocolate. I sat and I listened to the obnoxious clicking of the texts being sent and tweets being written. I thought, “Why the hell did I come to a coffee shop?” I guess I was hoping to people-watch or eavesdrop on some interesting human-to-human conver- sations. Maybe even do something adventurous and talk to a complete stranger. Fat chance.

Coming here as a transfer student, it appears that the concentration of socially awkward people is much higher per square-foot in this school than other places. Maybe it’s because we’re a school filled with students neck-deep in MCAT preparation, or our bio majors are too busy research- ing the cure for cancer. Either way, we’re not nicknamed the “UC of the Socially Dead” without reason, and the influx of technology doesn’t help.

It’s easy to get comfortable, and it’s understandable to sometimes want to ignore the world, but remember: A little human-to-human interac- tion never hurt anyone. If your daily interactions with people require you to be plugged into a device, then take the first step in suppressing gadget impulses. Set rules for when you can and can’t use your phone. Try to walk down Library Walk without your iPod. Try sitting in the library with your phone off.

My life is defined by politics. I study politics, I talk politics and I want to work in politics. Unfortunately for me, this love only goes one way; Washington D.C. is a hotbed of the elite and my last name isn?t Kennedy. Tack on the fact that my alma mater is UCSD ? a great school, sure, but it?s no Harvard or Yale ? and the unlikely becomes the impossible.

Then a ray of hope came in the form of radical conservatives, decked out in their best George Washington outfits and waving their freak flags for all of national television to see.

I never cared much for the rhyming chants of the Tea Party movement, but after its members started snagging key state and federal jobs, the politico in me started to pay attention. They?ve also managed to help Sarah Palin indefinitely extend her 15 minutes of fame, and throw forgotten stars Kelsey Grammer and Jon Voight back into the spotlight.

Maybe, just maybe, the Tea Party express could be my ticket to D.C.

So I buckled down, suppressed my liberal tendencies and started playing Tea Party speeches, hoping to master the rhetoric for my time in the right-wing spotlight. After a few painful hours, however, all I could recite were the same phrases about ?Freedom-loving Americans,? ?taking back the country,? ?elitist big government,? and of course, ?deficit spending.? As much as I tried to color my little blue liberal heart red, I knew deep down that me supporting these slogans wouldn?t be enough to sway anybody.

The Tea Partiers are just attention seekers; this fact shows through in almost every rally they hold. There is no united policy or agreement among their members, except that the government is doing wrong.

How the government is wrong varies from rally to rally.  To some, the government is elitist because they?re socialists with an agenda bleeding the rich dry; to others, the government?s elitist because they?re bailing out Wall Street.

The Tea Partiers? drumming and chanting may convince some, but hopefully the ?average Americans? see the Tea Baggers refer to aren?t delusional enough to think that everyone with a political opinion is equally qualified to take on important government jobs.

If I were having brain surgery, my doctors better be from an amazing medical school. Along those same lines ? the ones that let us semi-confidently put our lives in the hands of complete strangers ? my representatives in the American government should have solid training in how to run a country.

When I look at my less-than-stellar GPA and think back to all the late nights I spent struggling through my Math 10A homework, I know I am nowhere near qualified for a top government position. Yet.

In spite of this, I am not at all disheartened. Thanks to my ECON101 course, I believe in a little thing called comparative advantage; some people are better at running a country, while others were meant to flip burgers.

Wednesday of Week Three is upon us ? that magical time when the A.S. Council should be in the dying throes of a marathon meeting, bickering among themselves over how, exactly, to parcel out their colossal $2.9 million endowment.

Instead of your run-of-the-mill eight-hour meeting, however, we have $349,000 unaccounted for and an A.S. President who doesn?t appear to understand how the budget works. As if to add insult to injury, it looks like most of our student representatives still don?t know what?s going on.

Pay attention, council. This is the first big decision you?ve had to make so far, and the way this mess is turning out ? mishandling of massive amounts of funds, presidential snafus, dissent in the ranks and general obliviousness ? does not bode well for the coming months.

And our president?s attempts to magically transform the budget into some kind of coherency have not been going well.

This year, much like every year, A.S. Council started off with a budget of $2.9 million in student fees that they have the power to allocate. This year, exactly like every year, it is a key responsibility of the A.S. President ? our very own Wafa Ben Hassine ? to produce a solid budget that the council will bicker over for days before passing. It?s a time-honored tradition.

The first budget Ben Hassine put together left out about $145,000 in predicted expenses ? a sum meant to fund the salaries and benefits of the administrative staff that oversees the Council ? in addition to $117,000 worth of council stipends.

It is a sign of a bigger problem than simple mismanagement when the purported leader of 21,000 undergraduates can?t figure out where the money is going. But forgetting to carry the one and double check just how many zeroes are supposed to be to the left of the decimal point is still an honest, if huge, mistake. It?s her method of recovery that?s got us scratching our heads.

Ben Hassine was alerted to this discrepancy Tuesday night and was quick to respond with her next budget, releasing a new budget draft a mere five hours before the meeting. It had some interesting new numbers ? namely 250 additional students pulled from thin air that contributed a purely hypothetical $31,000 to the A.S. moneybags. The council?s estimated investment revenue was also increased by an arbitrary $52,000, with no explanation for where that money was meant to come from.

The whole thing was presented, glanced at and tabled. Whether the confusion was a product of the 250 imaginary undergraduates or the suddenly nonexistent staff benefits, tabling was the wise ? and probably the only ? choice. Sorting out this clusterfuck is going to take longer than even the most tiring council meeting.

And while this is by no means the first budget to be tabled, it may just be the first that?s been tabled without discussion.

There are some redeemers in this fiscal dramedy, namely a couple key councilmembers who knew enough to be puzzled over chunks of the budget suddenly vanishing. For the most part, however, we?re just left staring at our new president in disbelief.

Numbers ? especially ones representing large sums of money ? don?t just come out of nowhere, and the fact that they?re being conjured into existence so early on something so crucial is not a good sign.

Furthermore, Vice President of Finance and Resources Andrew Ang said he helped on the budget because our A.S. President was too busy studying for her LSATS. Setting aside for a moment the fact that neither the budget nor this life-altering exam come as a surprise (she?s known about the former since her election in April, and the latter happens exactly four times a year), there?s still the matter of the $10,000-a-year salary that we students cough up in the name of securing an effective head to our student government.

With a paycheck like that, it?s not too unreasonable to expect a work ethic to match.

It’s All About the Benjamins, Baby
Six months ago, KFC unveiled its newest heart attack in a wrapper: the Double Down Sandwich. This crime against reasonable dietary restrictions replaces sandwich buns with two fried chicken breasts, wrapped around melted slices of cheese, crisp bacon and “special sauce.” Now, in an attempt to capture the demographic of 18- to 25-year-old men, KFC started paying cute co-eds $500 to wear sweatpants with the words “Double Down” upon their buns. Because the sandwich doesn’t have buns. Brilliant.

A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with my brother when he told me something shocking: It’s boring when girls always laugh at guys’ jokes.

Don’t laugh, this was a new concept for me.

From the moment I figured out what flirting was for, I was taught that you should laugh at even a guy’s lamest attempts at humor. To see if other girls thought the same, I polled the ladies at UCSD — or at least the 50 who weren’t fast enough to avoid me waiting with a clip board — asking if they laugh at a guy’s jokes more, the same, or less if they liked him.

[caption id="attachment_19237" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Jasmin Wu / Guardian"][/caption]

Regardless of whether you’re a diligent scholar who never missed a lecture or a slacker who skims the SparkNotes the morning of the exam, finals week is a lonely party shared with books and rounds of espresso shots. The thought that one 3-hour exam could override 10 weeks of hard work (or a lack thereof) is a universal nightmare.

Now imagine a world in which every quarter didn’t culminate in a three-hour stay hell. Well, saddle up, because that idyllic world might not be as far away as we think.

Harvard College made headlines when it changed its policy to assume that professors would not be issuing a final exam, requiring that they sign a waiver if they wanted one. Though Harvard is the most prominent abandoner of finals it’s not the only institution to make this change; finals are disappearing across many undergraduate campuses. And though most of us are probably not lucky enough to have experienced a final-less finals week, some UCSD professors — from the math to the lit departments — no longer have sit-down finals.

According to Jay M. Harris, dean of undergraduate education at Harvard College, only 259 out of 1,137 undergraduate courses scheduled final exams during their spring semester last year. These nerve-racking tests of will are replaced by papers, presentations and projects.

Educators are finally considering that finals aren’t necessarily the best way to ensure that students are learning the material. And let’s be honest: they’re not.

In 2007, a study conducted by University of South Florida psychologist Doug Rohrer confirmed that last-minute studying significantly reduces retention of material and actually hinders the long-term learning process. When we cram, we learn the material on a temporary basis, which is why we often forget what we learned only a few days later.

With classes more dependent on technology, resources becoming readily available and academic developments becoming less theoretical and more dependent on real-life simulations, canceling finals week will only become more prominent nationwide.

There’s no longer a need to memorize complicated political theories when search engines are readily available. Harvard professors are finding that this new level of information overload across disciplines cannot be tested in a single sitting.

Finals don’t quantify students’ ability to retain material. More often, they test our regurgitation abilities, or how much caffeine we can take before entering a state of delirium.

A 1991 study by Professor of Education Herbert J. Walbert at the University of Chicago found that take-home papers, presentations or projects are far better ways of gauging a student’s ability, and ultimately produce more thoughtful work. The only element missing from these methods of examining students is the element of surprise. But while we all love surprise birthday parties, realizing that a third of your final concerns something you skimmed back in Week One is a nasty shock that doesn’t accurately gauge what we’ve learned over the quarter. Assiduous students can still demonstrate their understanding of the material, their engagement in lecture and their analysis of the texts, without the stress of time constraints and an Adderall hangover. Without finals, forgetting where some obscure war took place will no longer be the factor that flushes your GPA down the toilet.

This isn’t to say that there should be a blanket abolition of finals for every subject. For some subjects such as math, there is no better way to test a student’s competence with the key skills of quantitative reasoning. Similarly, introductory classes may be more fact-based and require a greater level of memorization, but as students move beyond the basics and gradually adapt more research-based approaches, final exams become too rigid to legitimately encompass a student’s critical thinking and analytical ability.

Educators need to understand that the ways we learn are changing, and the methods of examining what a student has learned or gained from a class should change too. It’s foolish to keep archaic methods of examination. If we understand the influences of technology on our world, and especially on education, the methods of testing understanding and cognitive reasoning have to change as well.

Perhaps, if UCSD followed in Harvard’s footsteps, CLICS would look less like the Coachella campgrounds during finals week and students would stop doing their best impressions of mechanical toys. And who knows? Without finals, UCSD might even be able to ditch that “socially dead” stigma.

Additional Reporting by Cheryl Hori.

It’s taken $2,500, national scrutiny and a little outside help, but with today’s Day of Action, it looks like UCSD has finally found a cause it’s ready to plant its flag on. Oct. 7 is the hopeful sequel to last spring’s March 4 Day of Action, which made headlines as a national event to defend education and mobilized 1,000 UCSD students.

Event organizers are determined that newcomers will not forget the need to make higher education affordable. That’s the good news. Now, if only those fired up about the zeros at the end of our tuition bills could figure out what we’re actually supposed to do to help. The Facebook event page – the only publicized indication that this demonstration is even taking place – is regrettably quiet on the matter.

Of course, the student leaders that put together the Oct. 7 Day of Action deserve mad props for finding the time to organize in the middle of Week One madness. Pulling students away from recruitment and free Korean barbeque to make sure that this issue doesn’t fade into the background (cancer cluster, anyone?) is no easy task. And while we have yet to see results from Sacramento, these Days of Action provide opportunity to yell ourselves hoarse and show some outrage over the now-infamous 32-percent fee increase enacted last November.

That’s not including the chance to do some yelling in cyberspace. This year’s student-led virtual sit-in — where students logged into a program that accessed the UC Office of the President website until the server overloaded — is a worthy homage to the sit-in’s creator, visual arts professor Ricardo Dominguez. Dominguez, now facing internal inquiries after orchestrating the act of electronic disobedience last year, will have to sit this one out until the administrative dust settles. Carrying it out anyway is still a fitting tribute to a professor who is currently wrapped up in the irony of being penalized for doing the work he was hired to do.

So, congratulations on keeping the digitized dream alive, but virtual protest or not — everything leading up to this event promises a smaller turnout than last year, from the last-minute advertising to the mellowed-out student body.

Last spring, March 4 was perfectly timed. It was the culmination of weeks of moral outrage and unrest that began with one racially themed party. After three protests that put the campus in a “state of emergency” and attracted national attention, those 12 hours of rallies and speeches were the cathartic end of the most explosive two weeks UCSD has had for years.

The response was inspiring; students and teachers alike took over the school. They made fiery speeches at Price Center. They congregated at Balboa Park. All over the campus and then — as the demonstration left UCSD — all over San Diego, they declared the unfairness of budget cuts and fee increases.

One spring break later, it seemed like all was forgotten; the big question on everybody’s mind wasn’t whether Sacramento would hear our plea, it was whether we’d be able to cinch Ludacris for Sun God (if only, Drake. If only). While the cost of education is still a headline issue, without a major catalyst, it looks like this time around, few students will have much to say.

Oct. 7 has the same noble cause, but last year’s demonstrations snowballed off the momentum of the protests and the excitement of administrators finally bowing to student demands. Now, a group of student leaders has graduated, replaced by freshmen who can’t tell “Real Pain” from a stubbed toe.

Mobilizing early in the year is important to keeping the issue in everyone’s minds, but having this event two weeks into the school year doesn’t give the apathetic much reason to turn out. Instead, the stress of getting off the MATH 10A waitlist or working out the kinks in that roommate situation take precedence over fighting for affordability. Three lectures into the year, the average student won’t suffer an absence to rally when there’s seemingly nothing wrong.

Then there’re the people who don’t even know this is happening — and, by the looks of the publicity campaign, that includes most of the student body. The sole Facebook group announcing the event (with 537 currently confirmed) is a far cry from the fliers that papered the school, the graffiti that adorned stop signs and the chalk that had students literally walking on the message to speak out.

Last year, there were teach-ins explaining the purpose of the March 4 Day of Action. Fliers spelled out the need for a nationwide protest, highlighting the unprecedented prices of higher education. Teachers took time out of their day to mention the event and offer open discussion. Even if you didn’t know what the stink was about, if you so much as set foot on campus in the weeks leading up to the rally, you knew something was going down.

Now, instead of massive and widespread outreach, a message went out asking people to help flier at 6 p.m. the night before the event. Instead of blogs, announcements during class and TAs speaking out, there will be fliering at a time when the school shuts down, the off-campus kids head home and everyone who managed to avoid the dreaded 6-9 p.m. classes has better places to be.

The Facebook group itself isn’t much help. There’s a snazzy poster and an event description with a long-winded speech about the state of education today, invoking examples from Arizona to New York City.

But it’s missing some key components: an agenda, a schedule, poster suggestions, a meeting place, even a “How-To” of defending education. Various Internet resources claim that there’s supposed to be a walkout, downtown rally and march, but the group includes nary a word about times, transportation, or meeting spots. For an event where every participant is crucial, people can’t speak out when they don’t know how to find the megaphones.

I’m hungry. It’s 6 a.m. and I would trade my left hand for some pollo asado fries.

Last week I read that Bill Clinton — the notoriously cheeseburger-loving head of state — decided to cut all meat, dairy, processed sugars and preservatives from his diet. This from the man who ordered a double hamburger, an order of fries and onion rings, and an apple-pie flavored milkshake in between speeches at the Center for Disease Control’s 2009 Conference on Obesity Prevention and Control.

Only five years after his quadruple heart bypass, Clinton’s eating habits had again clogged his veins. Four months into his new diet, he lost 24 pounds and is healthier than ever.

I’ll admit it, my college diet of “whatever is easiest and closest to me” probably isn’t the healthiest. But if someone who was considered a regular at his local Micky D’s could go vegan, how hard could it be?

I figured I’d go big or go home: I chose to join the ranks of B. Clinton and go vegan: essentially the badass version of being a vegetarian. My future held no meat, no dairy, no anything from animals.

I hopped online beforehand to see if there’d be any negative side effects. Most vegans don’t get enough B12, vitamin D, calcium, iodine and omega-3 fatty acids, and after an expensive trip to CVS I had picked up the supplements in pill form. Yum.

And so it began.

I love fruits and (most) veggies. Apples and orange juice for breakfast? No problem. A Greek salad — hold the feta — for lunch? A cinch. Chipotle salad bowl with grilled veggies for dinner? Awesome.

But let’s be honest: There are only so many days you can walk into Chipotle and order the slightly soggy veggies while the grilled chicken stares up at you. And there are only so many times you can open your fridge and ignore the pepper jack, begging to become sourdough grilled cheese.

It didn’t help that the weather was acting like a poorly designed rollercoaster. Blistering hot on Wednesday. Ice cream, anyone? Freezing rain on Thursday. Doesn’t pho sound good? Clear skies Friday meant I could resume checking the “Nutritional Facts” for anything animal.

A week into it, I had lost five pounds, but I also couldn’t do much aside from thinking about food. Simple things like bread was off the menu. Even my bird could eat bread.

My goal was to be healthier, but jumping onto the vegan train cold turkey — pun intended — was too intense. Whoever said “moderation is key” was onto something. If you’re animal friendly, or just want to try to something new, start slow, and consult a doctor before doing anything drastic. Jumping into a strict “fruits and veggies” diet might have worked for Bill — but then again, this was the man who got Israel and Palestine to sign the Israeli-Palestinian Declaration of Principles peace treaty. So why shouldn’t he be able to tackle the hardest diet known to mankind? Good for you Mr. President, you’ve once again proved that you’re cooler than me.

Offensive Ad is a Result of Religious Ignorance and Bigotry

In an effort to strengthen her platform in the North Carolina election, Renee Ellmers created an incendiary ad — using the words “Muslim” and “terrorist” interchangeably. So, it’s not surprising that her intolerance has made headlines.

I entered UCSD as a transfer student, so I wasn’t quite as wide-eyed and enthused as some of the freshmen straight out of high school. And instead of having my parents pack the family minivan with all my worldly belongings and drive off into the sunset, I began my journey by boarding a blue-and-white shuttle bus from the east parking lot.

Since then, every ride has been the same. I flash my ID card and nod in recognition to my sleepy-eyed shuttle driver as I step onto the aisle way and stumble into a seat. The first time, I couldn’t help looking out the window to stare at my car, sitting alone like a neglected puppy in the East Commuter parking lot. “Don’t look at her, Mims,” I told myself. “You’re on the shuttle now. There’s no going back.”

Despite the $549 I shelled out for a parking permit, by the time I arrive on campus at noon, finding a parking spot on campus is like finding a $10 bill in the laundry machine, and I’m forced to park on the other side of the freeway. So, it’s the shuttle for me.

The ride begins as the bus roars into life and the driver suddenly springs into action. I feel like it’s only be a matter of time before I see my breakfast again. Each time I think that I’ve never met anyone who hit the gas and pumped the brakes as indiscriminately as this driver. And with every ride, the current driver becomes the worst driver I’d ever met.

And as I sit on the shuttle, violently bouncing up and down at the merest hint of a speed bump, I can’t ignore the ‘what if’ questions sweeping my brain. What if she hits that little Smart Car? What if the guy next to me eating a breakfast sandwich starts blowing chunks?

By the time I reach campus all I can usually muster is a meek “thanks” to the driver. And I mean “thanks” in the way a drafted soldier thanks his buddy for shooting him in the foot.

But despite all that, we’ve all depended on the shuttles to get to us to and from class. As bumpy and stomach churning as they are, shuttles are a necessity for those of us without $549 to blow on permits or two hours to waste in search of parking. No matter how nausea-inducing that morning ride is, shuttles are good for us.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my car, and there’s nothing like making a late-night Rigobertos run after the buses have long stopped. But there are few things that replace the convenience of the shuttles.

Those friendly blue and whites are a gift given to us so that our legs don’t fall off as we trek across campus. They compensate for overcrowded parking lots, distill the fear of death by parking tickets and reassure students that they won’t be trapped on campus with no escape for nine straight months.

Aside from the needs of the 28,000 people on campus, these metal giants are good for the environment too. On average, 5,000 UCSD students use the shuttles daily, nearly a quarter of the undergraduate population. nd especially at a school as environmentally conscious as UCSD, it’s worth an uncomfortable 10 minutes to do our part to stave out global warming.  Though my stomach might not agree, the shuttles make life at UCSD a little bit easier.