4A Friday, May 3.1996 OPINION UN I V E R S I T Y D A I L Y K A N S A N VIEWPOINT Campanile bells' return welcomed by KU campus After almost three academic years, the silence has been broken. To many people's surprise and relief, the Campanile bells finally started ringing again at 2 p.m. on April 26. The longstanding University of Kansas tradition of the Campanile bells had been taken for granted before the bells stopped ringing. No one seemed to notice them or think of them as special until their sounds were gone. There are many students who didn't even know the bells existed. They started ringing just in time for this year's senior class to experience them at graduation. There are many seniors who will graduate this year who are hearing the bells for the first time. Either they did not notice them before they stopped, or they arrived on campus when they were being repaired. Senior classes in recent years have complained that walking down the Hill at graduation lacked meaning without THE ISSUE: Campanile bells For the first time in more than two years, graduating seniors will be able to hear the bells as they walk down the Hill. the Campanile bells chiming in the background. It will be nice to have them back for graduation. Now that the bells are ringing again, everyone on campus seems to be enjoying them. People were excited to hear them for the first time. Walking on campus, it is easy to see people smile as they hear the bells ring. And it virtually is impossible to lose track of time on campus because the bells chime every 15 minutes. It is unfortunate that it took the silencing of the bells for everyone to appreciate them again. Now that they are back, campus is complete because the bells enhance its beauty and tranquility. TARA FI TZPATKIFIC FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD TARA FI TZPATKIFIC FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD Abuse of Saferide privilege unfair to all students at KU Students at the University of Kansas have the privilege of using Saferide, a way of getting a free ride home whenever they find themselves too intoxicated to get home on their own. Unfortunately, many students find ways to abuse this system and use it to get to places other than home, such as a party. The Saferide system has created a safe way to get people home who do not own a car or are too drunk to drive. Consequently, students do not have to fear walking home alone at night and less drunk drivers circulate. Nevertheless, KU students need to learn not to abuse this privilege. Indeed, Saferide is based on an honor system, because drivers have no choice but to take everybody on his or her word. When a student informs a driver of the destination he or she needs to be taken, proof of residence at this address is not required. Drivers have to trust the person. THE ISSUE: Using Saferide So far, there is only one thing a driver can do if he finds out that someone's destination happens to be a party. He can tell the other drivers not to take people to this address for the rest of the evening unless they can prove that they live there. However, nothing will happen to students caught taking advantage of Saferide. Dishonest users of this service should be penalized. A good solution would be for Saferide drivers to put students who lied about their destination on a no-ride list. Students thinking about using Saferide to go to a party need to understand that the entire KU community could be hurt by their actions. If too many students abuse the Saferide system, they could lose this service altogether. HENRI BLANC FOR THE EDITORIAL BOARD Jeff MacNelly/ CHICAGO TRIBUNE Spring is in the air. The flowers are blooming, the birds are singing and students lie down each night to visions of the letter F dancing in their heads. Yes, it is about that time again. The time when previously calm, collected college students enter their classrooms with their hearts pounding, palms sweating and no fingernails to speak of. Many of them will not have slept in weeks and the combination of stress and fatigue will give them the appearance of zombies on drugs. Finals that make or break grades can be too stressful What could cause all this anxiety but the culmination of a semester: the final. For many students the grade they receive on the final will determine the grade they receive in the class. In other words, it is not the time to have a bad day. But what if you have a bad day? What if your car breaks down on a late-night coffee run, you don't get to bed until 4 a.m., subsequently sleep through your alarm and wake up five minutes before your final is scheduled to start? Okay, I admit this scenario is a bit far-fetched, but stuff does happen. And if it does, you're screwed. No one cares about your sob story. This is college, and it is time to grow up and accept responsibility. I agree with the above statement in general, but bad things can happen to responsible people, and it is unfair to punish them because of it. A person can be a model student all semester: attend all classes, complete all homework, ace every test, but if they happen to oversleep the day of the final or catch a nasty cold the day before, four months of work can go down the drain in the matter of a couple hours. but often times the final is worth so much that it can make or break a student's grade. This practice of placing so much importance on one exam confuses me, especially considering many professors will drop the lowest grade a student has received for the semester. This prevents any major repercussions from a "bad day." Finals allow for none of this. There is something seriously wrong with this concept. Students should be graded on their performance throughout the semester, not on one test. Of course, a grade is based on a combination of assignments and tests. Because of their importance, finals also cause another problem: stress. All year I have read articles and heard of programs devoted to reducing stress in the lives of college students. Suggestions have included getting plenty of sleep, eating nutritious meals and taking time out to soak in the tub or read a book. Maybe this is possible the rest of the year, but during finals? You have got to be kidding me. When you have got a week of tests staring you in the face, the vending machine becomes a close friend, sleep becomes a distant memory and cleaning rituals are limited to quickie showers, or if you're really pressed for time, a spritz of cologne or perfume as you run out the dopr. Some people work well under stress. These lucky few are stimulated by the challenge and thrive on the anxiety generated by finals. The majority of students however, react by developing nervous ticks and killer headaches that make it even harder to study. Then they realize they aren't prepared for finals and get really stressed out. It is a vicious cycle, and I don't think it is worth it. Maybe finals weren't so bad in high school when all students had to worry about was getting out of school and starting a summer job. The end of the year simply meant freedom. STAFF COLUMNIST In college it is a bit more complicated. Students have to figure out storage for the summer, living plans and job or school plans for next year on top of writing the plethora of yearend papers that are piling up at a frighteningly rapid rate. With the addition of finals, it is enough to drive the sanest person to utter madness. In my opinion, professors who forgo the traditional comprehensive final and instead give the last class exam during finals week have the right idea. Students still have a large concentration of tests in one week, but at least it is more manageable. Plus these exams are not worth an unusually large percentage of the class grade as some finals are, so students can go into the test having some idea of their semester grade. Steph Brewer is a Cary, N.C., freshman in pre-Journalism. LETTERS TO THE EDITOR Native American should be allowed to show pride I am writing in response to the article titled Student, KU disagree on dress, I myself also am a Native American, and I sympathize with Dorothy Stites' problem of wanting to dress in traditional Native American clothing at commencement. I, too, have experienced some of the same discrimination that she describes in your article. The only reason I find it necessary to disclose this information is to concede that Stites' claims are not fictional. KANSAN STAFF While attending a university, a student learns as much outside to a classroom as he or she does inside. In my opinion, Sites should be commended for her courage to set herself apart from the crowd. She obviously is proud of who she is and the Native American people she represents. Don't try to take that pride from her. Jon Beardsley Haskell Alumni By denying Stites' request to wear her traditional regalia, the commencement committee has contradicted everything that she might have learned while attending the University of Kansas. For every one of your readers who read that article and sympathized with Stites' plights, there were five more who believed that she merely is another bitter minority who feels she has been treated unfairly by the world. I realize this is a rather broad generalization, but this is the same rationale that is used to deem all Native Americans to be lazy, government-supported drunks. purpose of a degree is not to make oneself more marketable. A degree should not be viewed as a status symbol, but as a symbol of self-worth. Contrary to popular belief, the HEATHER NIEHAUS Business manager KONAN HAUSER Retail sales manager JAY STEINER Sales and marketing adviser JUSTIN KNUPP Technology coordinator Business Staff Campus mgr | Karen Geresch Regional mgr | Kelly Connelys National mgr | Mark Ozikmel Special sections mgr | Norm Blow Production mgr | Rachel Callil Marketing director | Cery Brealoff Public Relations dir | Angela Adamson Creative director | Ed Kowalski Classified mgr | Stacey Wolgarten Internship/co-op mgr | T. J. Clark KU student finds security, lucidity in a small town It is impossible for a 25-year-old journalism student to fully appreciate the kinds of stories that stitch together a 50-year-old marriage or underlie a dying oil town in the middle of the Kansas plains. ASHLEY MILLER Editor VIRGINIA MARGHEIM Managing editor ROBERT ALLEN News editor TOM EBLEN General manager, news adviser It was a warm day in early April. I had driven west 175 miles from the KU campus and arrived late to my grandparents' golden wedding anniversary celebration. Scores of well-wishers had gathered at the Genesee Domino Parlor — the only remaining social hub in the dusty town. GUEST COLUMNIST Pictures of my grandmother — young, solid, German, a teacher. Pictures of my grandfather — stern, intelligent, German, a farmer. Pictures of their farm — a thousand acre of land with cattle and wheat and an old stone house that had been built in 1870, just five years after Kansas had become a state. Pictures of my dad and his three sisters — healthy and gentleyed. Pictures of Geneseo — a town that grew up on a bed of oil, was full of verve and color in the 1940s and 50s, but died when the oil dried up. Each photograph told a different chapter. The day was a series of first-time meetings with many interesting people all of whom seemed to know me somehow. The festivities wound down by evening, and after prolonged good-byes, the townsfolk went home. Campus Joann Birk ... Phillip Brownlee Editorial Paul Todd Associate editorial Craig Lang Broadcaster Tom Erikson Sports Tom Erickson Associate sports Bill Petulia Photo Andy Rulletset Matt Flickor Graphics Noah Muster Special sections Novella Sommers Journalism Jamie Hamilton Wire Tara Trenny Illustration Micha Leaker Trevor Wohlford is a Wichita graduate student in Journalism. Genesee was a place where we all felt safe, secure ... lucid. I was greeted by a stooped man in a baby-blue suit and a red bow tie. "Bill's oldest," he said to me. I didn't recognize this gentleman, and he did not bother to introduce himself. It was irrelevant to him that I knew who he was. Eventually, the young people went out into the garden to tell our own stories. We sat in solid old lawn furniture and talked about baseball, about cousin Jenny's medical school exploits, about books, and about the people we had met that day. The parlor was filled to capacity. There were a few young, familiar faces interspersed among the townsfolk. But for the most part, the assembly was made up of elderly people whom I was sure I had never met. Arrayed in bright spring colors, these revelers had cornered my grandparents at one end of the refreshment table and were spinning lively tales about this and that. "How's school, Trevor?" he asked. "Going to be a journalist, I hear. We need more good journalists." "Yes." I said perfunctorily. He continued: "No one can write any more. They just watch those stories on television. When I was your age we wrote letters, and it was always such a delight to read them." Propped up along the table were dozens of old photographs. The lively clad gentleman and I walked through the food line together. I was struck immediately with the inkling that this man's idea of journalism was vastly different from mine. I didn't consider journalism to be writing as much as cramming or cutting or sorting. Information was consumed, not read, I had learned. This man saw a journalist as one who told stories, connected neighbors, invited the community to dance on Saturday nights, kept grandparents in touch with their children who had long since moved away. THE COMPLETELY POINTLESS ADVENTURES OF BRIGG AND FRO Brought to you by B. Bloomquist & J. Frosolone 91 First dav of class. fall 1996. (Promised friend cameo)