The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, September 02, 1996, Image 3

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Page 3
Monday • September 2, 1996
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Summer job offers
first-hand look into
in the “big house
Aggielife writer
I
spent the summer in jail.
John LeBas
Junior journalism major
pect
lo-show
county police ca
or Don Davis
graduate charge
& [;
li sappeared
is to begin,
dated his cot-
curfew on Aug.
seen since.
Well, I wasn’t exactly
incarcerated. While the rest
of my friends were pushing
carts or flipping burgers, I
got tlie unique opportunity
to work at a Harris County
detention facility in down
town Houston.
My job was simple: for
all intents and purposes, I
was a painter. I painted
cells, bathrooms, kitchens — you’d be surprised
at how fast a paint job will be annihilated in the
joint. However, I took from the jail much more
than an in-depth knowledge of the intricacies of
paint application.
I showed up for my first day of work not quite
knowing what to expect. Jails seemed foreign to
me, as I, like most people, had never been inside
one. I sure as hell didn’t expect to be in close con-
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Chapter ot the/: 1
MENTATION
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/enience.
act with the inmates — but right off the bat,
there were orange suits all around me. Most
inmates, to my surprise, are periodically allowed
out of the cells to work, take GED classes, or go to
the infirmary. I decided not to let this bother me.
The first day on the job
On my first day, I was painting with an inmate
worker. I spoke with him while we worked, and he
seemed nice — for an inmate. I listened to his
“story.” he and his family had been robbed at gun
point, and he was later arrested on a “hit and run”
charge after he crashed into a house while trying to
drive over the thieves in his car. 1 almost felt sorry
for him, and I began to wonder how many more
inmates would be able to evoke my sympathy.
Not too many, as it turned out.
Perhaps it was their constant degrading
remarks on my small size and youthful appear
ance (I concluded that they were ugly and jeal
ous). Perhaps it was the disregard for responsibil
ity so prevalent among the inmates (almost every
one I talked to had been in “the wrong place at
the wrong time”). Perhaps it was just the fact that
most of these guys were crooks and locked up for
liagood reason. Whatever it was, I came to seri-
TOiiSly dislike the inniates.
My distaste for the inmates was borne as
much of necessity as choice, 1 suppose. Watch
your back, I had been told, especially in the "lock
down” cells, where the “bad boys” — trouble
makers, murderers, rapists — are housed. These
guys don’t give a damn about much of anything
and may have assaulted me without provocation
or contemplation in the hopes of delaying depar
ture to prison.
Fear in the workplace
I’ve been asked if this created a scary situation
forme. I never felt absolute fear, just a sort of
uneasiness. Imagine having to constantly look
over your shoulder while working. Quite frankly,
it sucks. You can’t relax for eight hours, you can’t
trust anyone that comes near you, and you are
always looking for a way out of possible danger. It
sometimes felt as though I was working in a
small, hostile foreign country.
When not looking over my shoulder, I was try
ing to figure out how most inmates can even
maintain mental stability — jail is not a walk in
the park. It is absolutely no fun. Most inmates do
get to watch television, read the paper and make
phone calls, but the apprehension and tedium
must be hellish.
1 especially realized this when I would come
across a kid in jail. I saw many teenagers who
should have been enjoying the summer but
instead were sitting in the jailhouse. I wondered
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Sports Editor
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how many had, at such a young age, embarked
on a lifetime of crime and jail sentences.
Unfortunately, these kids often seemed to have to
Duthwest Parkwa) p rove to that they were tough guys. They loved to
light and get in each other’s faces, and they were
^the least remorseful inmates.
Of course, it would be unfair to say that all the
inmates were bad people. Some did recognize their
niNT mistakes and seemed committed to obeying the
^ aw upon their release from jail. Nevertheless, they
were criminals serving well-deserved time.
I quickly learned at my summer job that jail is
a place I never wish to be — again. The world
behind the bars is one I can never understand or
appreciate, especially afer being there.
°(I
| S
Freudian
Slip gained
six new
members this
summer.
The Joy of Laughter
T
I hey have been laughed at by Texas A&M students for more
than three years.
They are Freudian Slip, A&M’s improvisation group, who, with
each performance, is growing more popular and well-known.
Eric Pargac, director of Freudian Slip and a senior journalism
major, said the turnout to the group’s first performance before a
midnight yell practice three years ago was incredible.
“We performed at Rumours, and people were falling out of the
doors it was so packed,” he said. “It went well.”
Since its first performance, Pargac said, the improv company has
undergone several changes, including the group’s name.
“We first called ourselves A&M’s Evening at the Improv,”’ Pargac
said. “After one semester, we changed it. We thought about a lot of
names, even ‘Manifest Destiny’ or ‘Big Toe’ before finally deciding
on ‘Freudian Slip.’”
The improv team puts in many hours of practice, which often has
the team members cracking themselves up.
Dale Alexander, a member of Freudian Slip and a junior business
major, said sounds of laughter are frequently heard during practice.
“Sometimes we will be laughing so hard, we’ll have kidney fail
ure,” Alexander said.
But the nine hours of practice the members put in each week are
not all fun and games.
Pargac said he remembers a time when rehearsal got a little serious.
"The other day, we were doing practice and everybody kept cut
ting everyone off before any good dialogue happened,” he said. “It
was the first time I really got mad in practice. They all looked terri
fied like they weren’t ever going to get back on stage.
“I had to explain to them every once in a while, I have to get mad.
They were OK after that.”
Freudian Slip is starting the semester in search of new faces to
join its comedy troupe.
Auditions are being held tomorrow night in Rumours, which is
located near the MSC Post Office, from 7 p.m. to midnight.
Pargac said two traits are imperative for students wondering if they
have the “right stuff” to become a successful Freudian Slip member.
“What it takes is natural acting ability and intelligence,” he said.
“If you have these two characteristics, you can be taught (the rest).
People who are funny in everyday life can’t always do improv.”
Many Freudian Slip performances make it seem like members
have practiced material before the show, but the material is never
performed twice.
“We follow the basic skeleton outline of a style, but the character
plot line is always different,” Alexander said. “In improv, you never
do the same thing twice. During practice, we might find something
funny, but it’s cheating the audience if we do it again.”
Grimm said practice helps the group think on the same wavelength.
“We have a lot of rehearsals to do scenes and so we can get oper
ating on a group mind,” Grimm said. “Then (during shows) an idea
flows through the group and catches on, like everybody naming
each other names from The Brady Bunch show, but there are no pre
conceived ideas and notions.”
Group togetherness is imperative to the success of Freudian Slip,
which is an area the group worked on this summer.
“At our first rehearsal, everyone was still trying to get to know
each other,” Alexander said. “But now we’re like the Brady Bunch —
knit together. Our group mind is cohesive. It’s like wfe have this psy
chic bond or something.
“It’s uncanny when you say something, (when performing) and
See Improv, Page 8
... s
b
Freudian
Slip perfoms
various
improv skits
during
performances.
Story by Tauma Wiggins
Photos by Tim Moog
t&M University in the
>m. News offices are 11
5-2647; E-mail:
endorsement by Til*
$45-2696. For claS#
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M student to pickup 3
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i Express, call 845-26 1,
luring the fall and sp^
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istage paid at Colle#
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1 McDoi^ 11
JMentors provide guidance for students in need
By Brent Troyan
The Battalion
lere are no waiting rooms, no
ign-in sheets and no medical
irds associated with the
'entors. But the organization
exas A&M faculty, staff and
tinistrators continues to pro
students with guidance,
or more than 17 years, the
tibers of ATMentors have lis-
d to students and helped
work out problems without
ial records.
| r. Betty Milburn, ATMentors
rdinator, said students can
suit members of the program
on a variety of subjects.
“Anything — making career or
major decisions, family problems,
problems with a professor, loneli
ness, adjustment — you name
it,’’she said.
The 385 mentors provide coun
seling in their areas of expertise,
but make themselves available to
students who need to talk to
someone, regardless of the issue. A
student does not have to belong to
the mentors’ college to visit them.
The number of meetings and
their times are at the discretion of
the student and mentor. Milburn
said students often find solutions
to their problems with just one
conference. For more serious situ
ations, mentors can refer students
to more qualified professionals.
Milburn said the conversations
are
confi
den-
t i a 1,
d
o
Dr. William Bassichis, an asso
ciate professor of physics and a
member of the ATMentors
Executive Committee, said the
t _ I I elimina-
This is the first story in a series about tion of
a n
n
support services available on campus for P ^ P e r
students. The series will run through the
week and highlight a different support
service each day.
record of the meetings are kept.
She said mentors believe the
lack of paperwork removes “the
stigma of ‘counseling,’” and
makes them more approachable
to students.
work was
integral
in the
origin of
the men
toring program.
Bassichis said KYMentors
began in 1979, when a group of
faculty headed by Dr. Rod
O’Connor worried that the
University’s growth, and conse
quent growth in bureaucracy,
would prevent students from
finding the one-on-one support
they needed.
“We were just there to help,”
Said Bassichis, who has been a
mentor since the group’s begin
ning.
At the time, KTMentors was not
officially connected to the
University. The group began
through, and is still funded largely
by, donations from Texas A&M
Mothers Clubs. A small endow
ment helps to cover expenses.
Mentors have always been vol
unteers. Almost all work out of
their regular offices, which bear
signs with the KTMentors logo.
Peggy Philpot, Class of ’91,
once enlisted the aid of mentors
when she was a student.
“They were just there to talk to,
to help,” said Philpot. “They served
as a resource to me.”
Now a program adviser in the
Memorial Student Center, Philpot
volunteered to return the favor by
mentoring students.
Though ATMentors has seen a
renewed interest in the past few
years, fewer than 1,800 students
have sought help from mentors,
a number “way too low,”
See Mentors, Page 8