Years ago, students at UW-Oshkosh became disgruntled over the police intervention at a house party, and they rioted. One of my friends happened to have her video camera and subsequently caught the whole riot on tape.

A few years later, we were watching the videotape and debating how the riot started. At first, a crowd of drunk people sat down on Algoma Street, just under the dorms, and blocked traffic and began to yell. Others joined, and eventually a giant crowd of people marched their way up Main Street, chanting, smashing windows and uprooting stop signs.

It was the chanting that fascinated me. All the students were chanting something, and as their voices grew stronger and louder and they began to get angrier, a young man jumped up and began waving his arms over the crowd like the conductor of a symphony, in time with the chants.

My friends and I jeered at him. Everyone was already hyped, already angry, already preparing for action, and this idiot jumps in there and tries to act like he was the one who has instigated this revolt and he’s in charge, the representative voice of the people.

So goes our student government here.

I read a recent article in this newspaper about the necessity of a student voice on campus, and it got me thinking. Who is our student voice?

One might conceivably argue that the voice that represents the students is ASM, the student government. But, as Katie Harbath pointed out in her recent article, only 12.2 percent of the student body voted for these representatives.

And are we voting for people because of their politics? I am guessing that in most cases, probably not. Voting for student government is the equivalent of a popularity contest, as most elections are and should be. But on a small scale, such as a college campus, and with so few voters, the popularity contest takes place on a personal level, not a political level.

I have heard numerous jokes about people being elected to various committees and to ASM and wanting to thank their fellow fraternity brothers or all their friends in a certain group. Because when you crunch the numbers, some people are being voted into office with way fewer than 500 votes. All their friends or associates voted for them.

I think I could rally 500 people to vote for me, if I really tried. If I had a clue what to run for. Or why.

But the thing that kills me is that once these people (voted into office by their friends) get on a platform, they immediately begin to say they are representing the views of the average student or of the student body.

This is not true, no matter what your political platform.

In order to represent the interests of the student majority, you need to stop giving a shit about dumb things like campus government.

See, everyone thinks his or her way is right and that everyone else is an uneducated fool who will come around with enough encouragement. Everyone has his or her own voice, and everyone’s voice is different. There is not one person in student government who is there representing me. Not one person, on any committee, has voted exactly the way I would have, nor has anyone particularly looked out for my best interests. And that’s fine.

The motto of this school, about the endless sifting and winnowing through which alone the truth can be found, stands firm.

To have a representative voice is to curtail smaller voices, all of whom might have good arguments or better ideas, all slight variations of the main voice.

Take, for example, the Halloween travesty. We didn’t know whether to dress up last weekend or the upcoming weekend, and the newspaper, in my opinion, devoted way too much space to the issue.

Last weekend, I wore jeans and my black, poofy, down jacket. I looked like a burned marshmallow, but that’s pretty much how I usually look. I was out partying with Marilyn Monroe.

In the grand scheme of things, will it matter that she was dressed up? That I wasn’t? Did it even matter to us? No. Beer took care of that. She had fun in her costume; I had fun because I didn’t have to suck in my tummy or bare my legs to the freezing air.

And that’s the true representative of student voices. To each his own. We should not presume that we know what others want or need; we should not try to force them to do something or to not do something. Let everyone be his own man (or woman).

As far as the whole SSFC budget crisis, if a person doesn’t care enough to vote, don’t argue their case for them at the table. If they don’t care enough to vote, they probably don’t care where the money is going, or what’s happening. This is the beauty of apathy.

Do we need a student representative voice? No. If enough people care about an issue, they will band together and get things done. Look at MCSC and its budget, for example. Enough people saw a need, and they got together and worked for a solution.

All students truly need is a forum, such as the one provided by the newspapers, where any student can make his or her voice heard. If enough people band together, they can accomplish wonders. We also need students who do actually care to get out there and … do whatever activists do. But not to speak for others.

For some of us, sifting and winnowing is about finding the political balance that best meets our needs, and for others, sifting and winnowing is about finding the best pizza, the cheapest beer and the hottest co-ed.

To each his own. You walk your way; I’ll walk mine.

Taniquelle Thurner ([email protected]) is a senior not yet majoring in journalism.