Sweepstakes Winner 2006 Texas Intercollegiate Press Association
Viewpoints
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THE WICHITAN
Staff Editorial
Recession Fears With a recession looming, what does the future hold for college students? In the recession of 2001, investors were hit the hardest by crashing technology stock prices. Computer science majors found it harder to find work in the industry. Globalization has since entwined – and entangled – everyone’s professions and lives. No one is immune. Some economists believe the recession has already arrived. Consumers are feeling the pain of inflation and skyrocketing energy prices. This will ultimately translate to fewer jobs for college graduates. Already, many companies are beginning to reduce their work force in hopes of raising their stock values during this time of uncertainty. Tuesday, Yahoo announced it would lay off hundreds of employees in an attempt to combat the slump the Internet legend has experienced from the slowing of the economic machine. College students face not only soaring energy and food prices, but also a rise in tuition rates as colleges struggle to maintain their current offerings. College students should be wondering how, exactly, we got to this stage. America is now $9 trillion in debt, according to the U.S. National Debt Clock. Each citizen’s share amounts to $30,229. The national debt has continued to increase $1.43 billion per day since Sept. 29, 2006. The Iraq War tab is approaching $500 billion. That figure comes from the national Priorities Project. Each day costs $275 million. The sub prime loan debacle has crippled the housing market. Wall Street banks stand to lose as much as half a trillion dollars as loans sour. Who’s responsible? The line is long. At the head of it is President Bush who lied to Congress – remember Weapons of Mass Destruction? – which got us bogged down in Iraq. Behind him is a Congress that turned a blind eye to predatory lending practices that duped thousands of Americans. Congress is backed by greedy businesses that shifted the labor pool from America to Asia, solely for corporate profit. And, finally, need we point out complacent Joe Citizen who worships at the altar of consumerism? Fixing what’s broken isn’t going to be easy, but there is a lesson to be learned. Important decisions revolve around politics. Who makes political decisions? Politicians. Who puts them there? You know who. Get informed. Get involved. If you don’t, try not to feel misrepresented or jilted. Instead, take a look in the mirror.
Lack of intelligent content in local paper
CHRISTIAN MCPHATE OP-ED EDITOR
Over the weekend, I finally decided to pick up a copy of the Times Record News for the first time in
over four months. It was a decision that did not come lightly. It is not that I despise the paper, but that rarely do I read anything in the local paper that I have not already read on dozens of Internet sites. Of course, the TRN does have a few local stories placed strategically through the folds of its pages that peak interest with catchy and not so-catchy headlines. For instance, the local section did have a daily report about a small percentage of criminals facing charges for their heinous crimes. One of their best freelance reporters, Richard Carter, does entertain the mind with his flare for feature writing, which is by far one of the best selling points of the TRN.
THE WICHITAN 3410 Taft Blvd. Box 14 • Wichita Falls, Texas 76308 News Desk (940) 397-4704 • Advertising Desk (940) 397-4705 Fax (940) 397-4025 • E-mail WICHITAN@mwsu.edu Web site: http://www.mwsu.edu/~wichitan Copyright © 2007. The Wichitan is a member of the Texas Intercollegiate Press Association. The Wichitan reserves the right to edit any material submitted for publication. Opinions expressed in The Wichitan do not necessarily reflect those of the students, staff, faculty, administration or Board of Regents of Midwestern State University. First copy of the paper is free of charge; additional copies are $1. The Wichitan welcomes letters of opinion from students, faculty and staff submitted by the Friday before intended publication. Letters should be brief and without abusive language or personal attacks. Letters must be typed and signed by the writer and include a telephone number and address for verification purposes. The editor retains the right to edit letters.
However, the world is drowning in chaos. Like the possible end of the world in 2012, the destructiveness of Mother Nature gone wild, global terrorism, local terrorism with meth addicts, the failure of our government to make a dent in the drug trade just south of our border, the stripping of our freedoms that go on each day in the higher courts of this nation, the crimes against humanity in Africa by warlords and preteen killers, the upcoming recession, the housing disaster that is affecting American taxpayers, the crimes against humanity committed every second by health insurance companies, it would seem that the editors at the TRN could find something for reporters to write about instead of using articles from other newspapers. On Sunday, with hands that shook from too much coffee pumping through my veins and thundering through the damaged chambers of my heart, I deposited my $1.50 and grabbed a paper before the jaws of the newspaper rack could snap off my fingers (I tend to have that problem from time to time). After picking up the TRN, I rushed home, made a cup of coffee (like I needed anymore), lit a cigarette and opened the paper, hoping
to find stories that would challenge my mind like the authors from my upper-level English courses. I was disappointed, to say the least. Now granted, the front page did have an interesting story honoring Martin Luther King Jr. and a semiinteresting story on new benefits for Wichita County using federal money, but then there was yet another story on the presidential candidates (which has been done far too many times) and a “Town in trauma,” a one-sided story about Sderot, Israel, a town being destroyed by thousands of rockets fired from the Gaza Strip (and yet, as usual, there is no mention of the crimes Israel is committing against the Palestinians by charging outstanding rates for utilities and treating them like infidels). The most interesting story on the front page, “Homeless on the homefront,” was at the very bottom of the page, a story enlightening the readers on the truths of how our government throws aside our returning veterans after they do their time fighting for our “freedom.” It only got worse the further I delved into the depths of the paper included were numerous stories from the Chicago Tribune that made me feel like I was in Chicago and not Wichita Falls.
After reading an editorial about teachers losing their days off the Wednesday before Thanksgiving (as if there was nothing more important happening in Wichita Falls to enlighten the intelligent readers of the TRN) and numerous opinion columns on absolutely nothing as well. The Dirt section showcased writers with seer-like abilities who condemned an irate McDonald’s worker (who is going to be a slacker for the rest of his life because he was upset with management) and cried about the loss of the Dallas Cowboys for far too many paragraphs (come on, they lost because a better team beat them). I was left with a bad taste in my mouth and a horrible headache. In a world where nothing is what it seems, the readers are depending on editors to break the mold and fill their papers with newsworthy events, opinions and editorials, not the same old crap that we can find surfing the net. For the love of whomever you may worship, challenge our minds and force us to think about the moral dilemmas facing the world today. Why not make us mad in an intelligent way for once?
was easy to tell he was crying. I swung open the door and greeted the small boy with a glare. “What?” (Irritability is also said to be a symptom of the “angst.”) He said nothing. Instead, he pushed his way in my room and flung himself on my bed, wailing. “I c-c-can’t do it!” he bawled. “I cc-can’t!” You know someone is in hysterics when they go into that uncontrollable hiccup-cry mode. “Can’t do what?” He didn’t say anything. He took my hand and pulled me out of my room, through the foyer, down the hall and into the bathroom. With each step he took, he increasingly became more upset. When he stopped walking, I didn’t see anything wrong with the picture: we were in the bathroom…so? The light was on, the bathroom was empty and he was still frantic. He pointed down. I followed his gesture. I’m not sure what I was expecting, maybe a giant gaping hole or a rabid monster or something, but that wasn’t what I saw. There, on the ground beside the toilet, was a cricket. It was stuck on its back and was squirming frantically to flip itself right side up again, but to
no avail. I often see crickets or other bugs stuck on their backs. You almost always know that they are going to die; they can’t flip themselves over on their own, and you know eventually they will squirm themselves into a coma, or whatever other state bugs go into and stop moving. “What? It’s just a cricket, Brady. Are you scared of it?” He shook his head, still crying. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked as I picked up the bug. “He was going to die.” said Brady. “Yeah. So?” “I didn’t want him to.” “Then why didn’t you pick him up?” “I was scared.” He had finally stopped crying and I had finally stopped being grouchy. It was like that moment in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” when the Grinch’s heart finally begins to grow, and his stone expression softens. That was me. I led my brother outside and we let the cricket go. It scampered off into the grass as Brady watched it go. He cared so much about this tiny bug’s life and he wanted to save it. Yet, being the small boy that he was, he did not want to pick it up. It took the heroic rescue from an
older sister to do that. He valued life so much, he became frantic over a small, struggling animal. Even the smallest being, the tiniest example of life was that important to him. Looking back, I don’t just see a cute story. I see a child exhibiting a rare emotion in today’s society: compassion. Author Leo Rostin once said, “I think the purpose of life is to be useful, to be responsible, and to be compassionate. It is, above all, to matter, to count, to stand for something, to have made some difference that you lived at all.” The difference I made was not just the addition of one to the cricket population. Something I will remember for the rest of my life is seeing the relief in a young boy’s eyes as I released a cricket in my front yard. To him, it was an unlucky cricket finding its way back home. My brother didn’t want any life to be lost, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed to the rest of the world. What I learned from him that night is to think of others. I learned to have compassion for things smaller than myself, like listening to a sixyear-old’s cry and to help a doomed cricket off its back.
New columnist tackles college students
In this age of cyber space, brainless celebrities and a widespread “party like a HALEY CUNNINGHAM rock star” FOR THE WICHITAN attitude, do we lose sight of tenderness and compassion? When I was thirteen years old, my little brother was just out of Kindergarten. We lived with our mother and little sister in a big brand new house. I had contracted a r ecent dose of “teen angst” and would stay alone in my room, all day and night, with the music blaring. My younger siblings would play outside, and my Mom would do Mom things. I always had a fairly close relationship with my younger brother, Brady, but now I was going to see a different side of him. At about midnight, Brady came knocking on my locked bedroom door. I was awake, as a common symptom of the “teen angst” is insomnia. “Go away,” I snapped. “Haley. I need you.” said Brady. It
Editorial Board
Editor-in-Chief Brittany Norman Managing Editor Chris Collins Entertainment Editor Position Open Op-Ed Editor Christian McPhate Sports Editor Bobby Morris Photo Editor Patrick Johnston
Reporters Richard Carter Courtney Foreman Josh Mujica Photographers Loren Eggenschwiler Graphic Artist Robert Redmon Advertising Manager Correlle Ferlance
Copy Editor Kimberly Stiles Adviser Randy Pruitt