Although the realm of comedy has for much of our Carleton careers kept us out of the rough-and-tumble world of hiring politics, we feel compelled at this time to write in favor of Chris Rasinen of Campus Activities. In the short time we’ve known Chris, we’ve seen him do some extraordinary things not only for our beloved campus comedy groups, but also for the student body at large.
In the coming week, you may notice a big tent pitched on the west lawn of the chapel. Not so incidentally, this is the site of Unity Week, hosted by the Carleton Christian Community, as an opportunity to fellowship with Christians both on campus and in the greater Northfield community through united prayer and worship.
Tocqueville and Numa: Trustees and Students, How to Inject Student Opinion Into Board Decision-Making
Greater student-trustee interaction can be a good thing. Most of Carleton’s trustees are alumni and many are parents as well. Still, they have all been away for a while and there is no group better than students to give them an idea of what the Carleton of today is like on a day-to-day basis.
I was hoping to deliver a real slam-dunk column for the trustees this week so that they would want to give the Carletonian enormous sums of money. Unfortunately, my dreams of replacing the Dominos in the office with Kobe beef and truffles will probably fall short because the most exciting thing I have to write about is probably the most boring part of Carleton. Namely, my week has been vaguely perturbed by the same mild inconvenience as every other sophomore’s seventh week: The Dreaded and Scary Writing Portfolio.
I have worked with Campus Activities under two circumstances. The first one was when I was a New Student Week Leader for the incoming freshmen the week before Fall Term began this academic year. The second one has been the past month up until now, as the work for Carleton’s First Annual Spelling Bee is just about to be completed.
I am asked surprisingly often by customers if I have read every book in the Carleton Bookstore. As the General Books Manager in the store I have the good fortune to spend my days surrounded by titles that I would gladly devour. I am also frequently told that I have the ideal job because surely I must spend my day behind the counter reading to my heart’s content.
Mothers in the United States face the judgments of a culture that hesitates to consider the work of a mother as a legitimate job. There exists a general acknowledgement that the “work of a mother is never done” and yet there remains a crippling double standard faced by women who choose to become mothers.
I am a gamer, and have been for essentially my entire life. These days, though, I do some news reporting on the internet, and I often find myself reading up on the debate about videogames and violence.
I twirled the phone around in my hand, trying to decide whether or not to call her. I’d been getting sick of Carleton lately, and I wanted to talk with someone from home who might pick me up a little. She seemed like the most understanding person I could call. But, for some reason, perhaps shame at the fact I hadn’t called in a while, I set down the phone to call some other time.
We wanted to zero in, this week, on the part of CSA about which students most often think: its budget. Carleton seems like a place of bountiful resources, and in many ways it is. Still CSA, like all the other parts of the college operates under considerable financial constraints, albeit significantly different ones.
Every week, it seems, I manage to enrage some member or group of the school community. I have been publicly confronted and bitterly argued with, but is this my duty as a columnist? As a contributor to the Carletonian, I write an article each week. I hardly ever know what I will be writing about until I sit down and just type something out.
"I saw Nature at its purest. The dogwoods had turned red. The maple leaves were scarlet and gold . . . . And not one foot of it was marred by a single unsightly man-made obstruction--no advertising signs." President Lyndon Johnson, on the Highway Beautification Act of 1965.