With the start of every new school year come new expectations and new goals. But at the same time, those things that we as students — old or new — expect from our personal lives on campus rarely change. The hookups we regret, the awkward exchange of stares between people we kind of know and the endless hours at the library are all just a part of life at UW. While those things might change over time, there will always be one thing that never changes.
I’m specifically speaking about our student population’s favorite pastime, otherwise known by my close friends as the only relationship I’ve ever committed to — the lovely and endearing booze. However, our local campus police seem to be trying to hint that my significant other is “not the right one.” Regardless if they’re right or not, they’re being rather rude in how they’re saying it.
Drinking, for better or worse, has and always will be a significant part of not only the Madison campus social scene, but college culture in general. Kids leave mommy and daddy to come to school to get drunk, say stupid things, puke in places they shouldn’t and learn to regret those decisions. It’s just another part of our “formal education.” It’s something each person must learn to control and understand. But it is a journey each must make on his or her own.
During the famous/infamous “Welcome Week,” the campus police seemed to believe they could curtail our habits and impose their own moral statement into our college experience while all the while neglecting their responsibilities as non-discriminatory agents of the law. “To protect and serve” has long been the motto of many police agencies and for good reason. But room needs to be made for the word “hypocrisy” in the University of Wisconsin police motto.
As I walked to the bars over the last week, I witnessed both house parties and bars being invaded by officers looking for those hardened criminals also known as underage drinkers. With each party broken up and bar evacuated I could sense the feeling of accomplishment the officers had knowing the favor they were doing their community by “serving and protecting.”
In years past cops have taken the same type of action, using intimidation and fear as a method of operation. The tactic is nothing new to campus. But the actions the university police took over the last week did nothing more than confirm their ignorance and highlight their hypocrisy.
Their reasoning is easy enough to read through. By showing a stern stand on drinking the first week, they believe their presence will have a greater effect in the weeks to come. However, fearing officers is not the same as respecting them.
Where is that imaginary line the campus police drew in the sand for students? Drinking illegally at house parties and bars is strictly prohibited, yet come Saturday morning everyone has free reign to take a beer bong from a third-story window? How can students respect an organization that has no principle and selectively enforces rules through coercion? Campus police have the expectation that we should bow to their bipolar authority and never question its underlying intentions.
It’s a simple matter of principle. Students will act according to the rules that are in place. But when the rules that are in place contradict themselves, each will be broken. It should be no surprise to officers that underage kids are drinking even with their authoritative presence around every corner. Because come game day, the same officers that were busting those kids’ asses turn a blind eye and allow the binging to continue.
Underage drinking is not the real issue here. It’s the manner in which our police agency conducts itself toward underage drinking. The only standard an underage drinker can believe the police will enforce is a double. So when the university tries to hide its student’s drinking problem and city leaders go up in arms about the drinking related problems on campus, don’t assume it’s the kids; it could just as easily be the way these kids are treated.
Ben Patterson([email protected]) is a senior majoring in political science.
