How the You of Eye Will Paint Ewe and Aye Into A Corner

In order to graduate from this fine establishment, the powers that be demand that I fill out a Senior Survey, which allows me to relate, in rich detail, my overall experience at the school through a list of questions answerable on a 4 point scale from “Not At All” to “Greatly.” Very well.

One particular section was titled “Developed Abilities Enhanced by my UI Undergrad Experience,” or some such thing. I had no problem answering the questions dealing with how my time at UI enhanced my knowledge of ethics and morality. Yes, I certainly learned a ton about the state of the average parishioner at the Church of Liberal Humanism, meeting five days a week down on 6^th Street. In a less jaded way, I learned quite a bit about my own frustrations, joys, morality, and how well I knew what I believed through my interactions with those who didn’t have a clue as to their own. And in a way that teeters dangerously close to optimism, I saw the way Christians act and should act in environments that are constantly hostile to them.

All was well until I came to a series of questions inquiring as to the role of the university in growing my knowledge as to the contributions made to culture by women and minorities. Someone down at the Survey Lab must’ve had a grand time cooking these questions up. How to answer? I could answer “Greatly,” since it was shoved down my throat at least a few times A WEEK throughout my education. So yes, I did hear about this quite a bit. But when my responses are read, do I want to contribute to a group of pleased professors nodding their heads in approval at their mighty powers of “Diversification?” No!

But then what? If I say no, as I hated and disagreed with most anything that came across my way that smacked of cultural affirmative action, I set up the next poor sucker who comes through the system to be bludgeoned DAILY with this tripe. He’ll be shaken and screamed at that “Native American culture is interesting!!! IT IS!!!! SAY IT!!!” until the day he sits where I am and ponders the question of “Greatly,” or “Not At All.”