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Opinion
Monday, April 25, 1994
The Battalion
Page 9
The Battalion Editorial Board V
JULI PHILLIPS, Editor in chief
MICHAEL PLUMER, Managing editor KYLE BURNETT, Aggielife editor
BELINDA BLANCARTE, Night news editor DENA DIZDAR, Aggielife editor
HEATHER WINCH, Night News editor SEAN FRERKING, Sports editor
TONI GARRARD CLAY, Opinion editor WILLIAM HARRISON, Photo editor
JENNIFER SMITH, City editor
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The ugly truth
Facing Rwanda’s turmoil
At the heart of Joseph Conrad’s
"Dark Continent,” a horrific scene
,ilently plays on. Ignored or conve-
liently unnoticed by the national
nedia and the United Nations, the
Ml war in Rwanda has claimed up
o 100,000 lives and displaced
nore than two million people
vithin two weeks.
While the United Nations — the
vorld's “peacekeeping force” — at-
empts to deal with Serbian aggres-
ion in Bosnia, the multi-national
x)dy has only informally discussed
[he slaughter in Rwanda: The U.N.’s
inly action was to order the reduc-
ion of its forces from 2,500 to 270.
Private aid agencies, however,
aid last Thursday they could not
any out humanitarian missions in
he ravaged countryside because of
the lack ofU.N. protection.
News of this tragedy has also
en relegated to back-page or late
nt coverage by the American me
dia. The events in Rwanda are horri-
)le and disturbing, but we must ask
why the West has chosen to deny
their severity.
Is it because of America’s and
the U.N.’s preoccupation with the
Bosnian situation? (Secretary of
State Warren Christopher said Fri
day the United States must take de
cisive action to save America’s rep
utation - not the lives of civilians
in Gorazde or Sarajevo.) Or is it
that neither institution has any
thing to gain from addressing the
African conflict?
The United States has only limit
ed diplomatic and economic ties
with the besieged East Central
African country, and the UN. has al
ready demonstrated its callous atti
tude toward Rwanda.
The American media also has
limited access to Rwanda. With
no sure safe havens, only a few
journalists will cover such a dan
gerous situation.
Also the slaughter in Rwanda is
not something we care to dwell on.
We can beheve dozens or even hun
dreds of deaths. But the extermina
tion of 100,000 people in two
weeks? Such numbers are almost
impossible to grasp.
With no economic or political
interests in the region, why should
the UN. or America act?
Because Rwandan civilians are
innocent victims of a vicious con
flict, and because the United Na
tions should treat all situations
equally, not according to how politi
cally or economically advantageous
involvement may be.
To do otherwise would be to
deny the epic suffering in Rwanda,
and reinforce our aversion to the
“ugly” truth.
• • •
One more column, nine more days
Winding down, selling out as final deadline approaches
O ne column left. After all this time, it’s
hard to believe I have only one column
and two weeks left at A&M. There re
main only nine days of school. It seems like,
only yesterday, there were 10 days left. Sigh.
But isn’t that the way things go? The sands of
time are sifting through my fingers, shifting
beneath my feet. And I find it a little unsettling.
At the risk of sounding sophomoric, I must
tell you that I know everything. ‘Cause I’ve
been here longer than you. That’s how I was
told I was supposed to write when I first started
this column nearly three years ago.
“You’re supposed to persuade the readers to
believe your opinion,” I was told. “You must
make them side with you on topics and sub
jects that pertain to them. Convince them that
you know everything.”
This is college, not obedience school. All
my life I had been told what was right and
wrong. I didn’t need that. I can think for my
self; so can most college students. Suddenly I
was supposed to turn around and tell people
how to think. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.
So I chose instead to write the columns that
I would want to read. Instead of writing about
what I’d done right, I wrote about things I’d
done wrong. (This approach not only made
me sound less pious, it doubled the experiences
from which I could draw.) One friend refers to
my column as “Robert’s Weekly Confession.”
There is an element of truth to that, I must
confess. But it’s not forgiveness I seek. Perhaps
it’s approval. Yes, the encouraging words from
readers mean a lot to writers here at the Batt.
Heck, even the nasty letters — “hate mail” we
call it — are an encouraging sign that someone
out there is reading. Someone cares about what
we say. Cares enough to call us idiots. Or lib-
ROBERT
VASQUEZ
Columnist
erals. Or conservatives. Or both. But when
people actually call in and say that they liked
what they read, that it somehow made them
stop and think ... well, it makes it all suddenly
worth the trouble.
There are so many fears and questions
people have when they leave home for col
lege. I know I was overwhelmed by the im
mensity of the campus, the complexity of the
registration process, and the insanity of park
ing. Though the problems were very real for
me, I was certain I was the only one who
found them intimidating. No one else
seemed to talk about them. Why was I the
only one who seemed to notice the obstacles
standing between me and a degree?
Well, that’s when I discovered my special pur
pose. To complain. To gripe and moan about all
the little things that made mis journey seem in
terminable. A number of people have told me,
“Robert, you can’t leave. You have to stay and
write your columns forever.” While the senti
ment is flattering, the thought terrifies me.
As much as I ve grown to love this place, it’s
time to move on. And, while I’ve enjoyed our
little chats, I know this conversation is drawing
to a close. So some friends and I decided to
collect our favorite columns, the ones we
thought best recorded our cries for help and
put them in a little pile called a book. We fig
ured, since misery loves company, some people
might be interested in keeping some of the sto
ries they once read to remind them of the
agony they survived. The topics of the columns
range from credit cards to Desert Storm, from
date rape to Dr. Seuss.
The book we have produced is called,
“Voices from A&M. A Survivors’ Guide to
Love, Life and the Pursuit of Sanity.” And it’s
available in paperback. (We couldn’t afford a
hardback cover.)
Stacy Feducia, Toni Garrard Clay and I have
put more than 40 of the best columns we can
find into this book. Some parts of it are bor
rowed. Some are original. Most are plagiarized.
And it all can be yours. For ten bucks. We fig
ure, since we won’t be making any money after
college, we may as well start panhandling now.
I’m not forcing you. I’m begging you. Buy
this book. Please.
Seriously, if you’re interested, send your
name, mailing address and $ 10 to:
Windows of the World
P. O. Box 2925
College Station TX 77841-2925
For you perceptive cynics out there who
think this is an outright advertisement for
VOICES FROM A&M, I want you to know you
couldn’t be more wrong. So put your suspi
cions to rest and ACT NOW!!!
(No purchase necessary. Prices may vary.
Offer void where prohibited.)
Robert Vasquez is a senior journalism major
Oft
Editorials appearing in The
Battalion reflect the views of the
editorial board. They do not
necessarily reflect the opinions of
other Battalion staff members, the
Texas A&M student body, regents,
administration, faculty or staff.
Columns, guest columns,
cartoons and letters express the
opinions of the authors.
The Battalion encourages letters
to the editor and will print as
many as space allows. Letters
must be 300 words or less and
include the author's name, class,
and phone number.
We reserve the right to edit
letters and guest columns for
length, style, and accuracy.
Contact the opinion editor for
information on submitting guest
columns.
Address letters to:
The Battalion - Mail Call
013 Reed McDonald
Mail stop 1111
Texas A&M University
College Station, TX 77843
Fax: (409) 845-2647
Shared mourning teaches lessons of unconditional love
iparate
I ’ll never forget October 27, 1993. It
was a hot, muggy Wednesday, and I
should have been in class. But I was
n’t. I was in Port Arthur, Texas, at my
grandmother’s funeral.
It was a day of sadness, a day of tears,
a day of awakening. I learned a lot that
day - a lot about death and a lot about
The drive to the church was strange.
My dad, his wife, my sister, and I drove
along as if nothing had happened. We
talked about school; we talked about the
weather; we talked about politics; we
never uttered a word about my grand
mother.
I remember thinking how odd this
was and how we should all be ashamed
of ourselves. Driving along in the car, I
remember digging a hole in the back of
my dad’s head with my eyes.
"This is all his fault,” I thought.
He had put my grandmother in a
nursing home a year earlier, and her
health and sanity left her shortly after.
She quickly deteriorated into nothing
ness.
JENNIFER
SMITH
City Editor
My 14-year-old sister and I did our
best to keep conversation with my
grandmother when we visited her at the
nursing home, but she spoke of nonsen
sical things. Our visits ended almost as
quickly as they began.
We both blamed my dad for not tak
ing care of her. We both blamed him for
a lot of things. My dad divorced my
mother 1 0 years ago, and neither of us
has really forgiven him for it.
But one positive result of my parents’
divorce was the relationship I gained
with my sister. Though there were fights
and struggles, we couldn’t be closer.'
We fought while she was growing up,
Homosexuality just
part of today’s world
irof
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0
iave
774.
• Even though we’re in the midst of
finals preparation and have no spare
time, I feel moved to respond to Eric
Peddicord’s intuitive observation that it
is uncool for gays to participate in the
United Way Kiss-Off due to their obvi
ous evil intent to corrupt the universe as
we know it. I realize we’re all very busy
right now, but perhaps you’ve noticed
it’s 1994 — men kiss men, women kiss
women, and in some parts even the
sheep are involved. Now whether this is
due to a genetic snafu, insurmountable
sin, or just the overwhelming desire to
be bashed by every intolerant Bible-
thumper and ignorant redneck, the
world may never know.
So even though I’m certain that the
world in general and Aggieland in par
ticular benefits greatly from the moral
compass that keeps us on the straight
and narrow, allow me to take a little dis
course through Theology 101.
God says love thy neighbor (now
here comes the tricky part) — like it or
not, some of your neighbors are gay.
but through it all I knew she, more than
anyone, was the one person in the world
to whom I was tied. The bonds of our
relationship are so important to me. I
feel like the same blood that runs
through her veins runs through mine.
My parents’ divorce left me in a pecu
liar position with my sister, because I
took on much of the responsibility of
raising her. I was never asked to do this;
I just did. As a result, I became some
thing of a second mother to her. In re
turn for my love and caring, she gives
me the joy of just being there.
I’ll never forget the day after she was
born when I held her in my arms for the
first time. It was so powerful. I had
never experienced such instant love for
anyone or anything.
My sister and I grew up similarly. We
both saw my dad every once in a while,
but obviously after the divorce it was not
the same. There is just no substitute for
a dad living at home. Weekend visits
and phone calls could never compare.
As a result of the loss and the absence
of a father, my sister and I clung to each
other. Our relationship is stronger than
any other sibling relationship I have ever
seen, and there is nothing I am prouder
of than that.
But there were times when I won
dered if she truly knew how much she
meant to me. I found out last October.
I’ll never forget the day
after she was born when
I held her in my arms for
the first time. I had nev
er experienced such in
stant love for anyone or
anything.
As we walked into the church, my sis
ter began crying instantly. I am much
more reserved, and I think I went into a
trance-like state.
Even when we sat down on the front
row less than 10 feet away from my
grandmother’s open coffin, I still would
n’t let myself cry.
Ten minutes into the ceremony, I still
would not cry. Then suddenly as I looked
at my grandmother’s hair and face and re
alized I would never see her again, a dam
burst. I began to sob uncontrollably.
Everyone else was crying, too, and I
blended in well with the crowd. But I
felt isolated. I didn’t want my dad to
come near me, didn’t want him to look
at me, didn’t want him to see me cry. I
was alone in a sea of darkness.
Suddenly a light appeared. From out
of the darkness, my sister reached over
and grabbed my hand. Her smaller hand
held mine, and all at once I knew what
life was all about. I knew what uncondi
tional love was, and I felt so lucky to
have it.
That one small gesture from her
summed up all life is for me.
I learned a lot about myself that day, a
lot about life and a lot about death. And
most importantly, I learned about love.
Jennifer Smith is a senior journalism major
That means you have to (help me out
here) deal with it. When you show con
tempt for people (any people), you do
nothing to elevate your cause. Peddicord
solves this entire problem by saying he
chooses to ignore sin and stick to what’s
right. Perhaps he could practice what he
preaches and ignore this, too.
If you don t like it, look the other
way. Let me tell you how I deal with it.
I’m not gay and I’m way too concerned
with getting through school and on
with life to worry about those who are.
Tony Ludovico
Class of ‘94
• This letter is in reference to Eric
Peddicord’s letter to Mail Call in which
he compared homosexuals kissing in
public to a KKK rally, claiming both
are “proud of their wickedness and
[wanting] the whole world to “greed,
envy, deceit, malice, violence, hatred,
racism, and lust ... [all] manifestations
of the dark side of human nature
known as sin.”
Homosexuality is inherent to certain
individuals, just as heterosexuality is in
herent to other individuals. As sexuality
is a God-given quality intrinsic to all of
God’s creatures, the specifics of each in
dividual’s sexuality is God-given,
through his infinite wisdom and be
tween only each individual and God.
None of the sins listed are inborn char
acteristics, because by definition a sin
cannot be an inborn characteristic.
Greed, envy and lust are all normal feel
ings for humans to experience. Malice
and hatred are two more bad feelings
which are not only sins, but lead to un
happiness, ulcers and heart attacks in
the meantime. Deceit and violence are
behaviors whose actions are specifically
committed with the intention to hurt
other people. Racism is learned hatred,
born of fear and ignorance.
I am not personally an advocator of
public displays of affection, but as the
United Way Kiss-Off was based on
people kissing in public to raise mon
ey for charity, I don’t see why anyone
would object to homosexual couples
kissing. Heterosexual couples are per
mitted by our society to express their
affection and sexuality in public with
out offending anyone, and here at
A&M we have several traditions which
not only tolerate but encourage public
displays of affection without undue
criticisms, religious admonishments
or risk of bodily harm.
As Aggies, we should be above hurt
ing each other with words or actions by
accepting even the parts of our neigh
bor we can’t understand. And some
parts of our neighbors’ lives are simply
none of our business. And if our neigh
bor chooses to express some aspect of
that private relationship in public, we
should not stand in judgment, especial
ly when others are allowed to freely ex
press similar aspects of themselves.
Allison Rowland
Class of ‘96