At the University of Wisconsin, we owe a great deal of gratitude to those who used this institution as a stepping stone to attain wealth and have given back in the form of alumni donations. Special thanks go out to men like Jere Fluno, a graduate of the 1963 class, who generously donated a substantial portion of the $24 million needed to build the Fluno Center.

However, Mr. Fluno, in Friday’s edition of this paper, wrote a letter to the editor that highlights an intriguing point. Observing the obvious debauchery that leads to an often-times belligerent student section at Camp Randall, Mr. Fluno encouraged the ticket-holding student body to "watch their mouths" while rooting for their beloved Badgers. It is understandable for an adult member of society to desire limits on the unnecessarily vulgar epithets that come from the student section. However, it is not fair to call for a censoring of the student body in the name of collecting donations.

It cannot be overstated how important donations are to the continued prosperity of our university; they are necessary. While a great deal of alumni gifts fund the business school and other specialized sections of this university, your average liberal arts student gets maligned when it comes to alumni donations. These contributions seem to be a microcosm for the problems of capitalistic society as a whole. Put simply, the rich get richer and the average citizen gets ignored.

Just this past week a group of 13 alumni donated $85 million to the business school, the largest gift in the history of UW. While this is great news for the business students, those lucky enough to gain admission to one of the best of its kind in the nation, where does it leave the rest of us?

This school was founded over 150 years ago under the progressive tenets of the "Wisconsin Idea." It was to be established as in institution that would foster a sense of collective responsibility and the notion that together we can all help each other. However, it seems that this idea has been long forgotten; replaced by a system that rewards those students who choose an educational path intended to secure the most amount of personal wealth, leaving the idea of the collective behind. The students suffering are those who search to gain a greater understanding of the society from which they benefit.

As a political science and sociology major, I inevitably spend a good amount of my class time in buildings. Yet, in my three years here, very few projects have served to directly benefit us. Instead of improving on areas of campus where most of the student population attends class, the medical school and hard sciences get constant upgrading. The UW political science department has been virtually gutted over the last few years, with the permanent elimination of over a dozen faculty positions. While the business school enjoys the fruits of its latest million-dollar gift, UW’s most popular major is treated like a festering piece of garbage.

As wealthy alumni of the business school, it is easy to dismiss our case. Granted, they have succeeded by monetary standards and definitely more so than a liberal arts graduate. However this should not mean that the rest of us get downgraded.

It is frustrating to say the least. To walk through Grainger Hall is to see a sparkling example of modern architecture and technology. High-tech classrooms, larger-than-life libraries and comfortable lecture halls adorn the entire facility. To attend class in the Social Sciences building is to step back in time to an era of rickety wood desks, nauseous floor plans and inaccessible facilities.

So while a business student’s biggest worry may be the inconvenience caused by the construction of a new 130,000 square-foot wing, a great many other students are checking online to see if their classes were cancelled due to safety concerns, as happened last week with a serious mold problem in Ingraham Hall. A representative from the UW Department of Health and Safety said someone working in Ingraham "had been asking for assistance for 10 months." Something tells me that the situation would not unfold the same way if a monumental safety hazard affected the well-being of a student in the multi-million dollar Grainger Hall.

The request for more respect at Camp Randall highlights the lack of general concern for a majority of the student body. With the millions of dollars that come in annually, the money seems to always be used as an investment for the university to make more money rather than increase the quality of its education. The question has to be asked: how come more of the massive profits don’t turn into direct benefits for the current student body?

So, while I value the generosity of men like Mr. Fluno, it’s hard to appreciate it when so many of its benefits, for the average student, go unnoticed.

Ben White ([email protected]) is a junior majoring in Political Science and Sociology.