Our campus is in the midst of a crisis. The crisis I speak of is worse than the steady replacement of pants by leggings. Worse than the disappearance of cheese fries from Reckers. And yes, even worse than Dave Cavadini's offensive and vulgar excuse for a comic. Notre Dame is in the grip of a monster. And this monster's name is discrimination.
Allow me to explain. I love the question of the day. In fact, unless somebody has recently insulted a SMC chick or the Vagina Monologues are coming up (meaning a bitter and pointless viewpoint war is raging) the question of the day is pretty much the only thing I read. Each morning, I eagerly grab my copy of The Observer, throw out the middle section, ignore the front page and turn to see which lucky students were selected to rise to the throne of campus fame and glory. Who knew Notre Dame students could be so clever? Question: "What do you think of the snow?" Answer: "It's cold!" These two small words are a simple truth sprinkled with a hint of sarcastic genius.
After reading such intriguing answers, I stroll to my classes, hoping to be approached by the miracle worker responsible for the question of the day. And yet after 4 years of such aimless wandering, I still have not been featured in the hallowed boxes on top of page 2. I paid my $160,000 dues to the University. Each semester my $6 Observer fee is collected just like everyone else's. (Check your student account bill ... it's there.) Still, nothing! I can think of no possible reason behind this depressing occurrence except that "the Man" behind the question of the day is a discriminator. He discriminates on the basis of attractiveness.
I am not what one would call photogenic. ("Not photogenic" being a euphemism for ugly). My own mother makes me stay in the back of family photos. Behind my 6-foot brother. She also makes me sit down. I inspire a sentiment similar to Buzz's girlfriend in Home Alone. Woof. Reader, have you ever been featured in the question of the day? If the answer is no, take a look in the mirror. There's a 99.9% chance that you too have a face only a mother could love. This discrimination must end. Those of us with asymmetric features, buckteeth, unibrows, and moles the size of Texas must band together. We must demand equal question of the day opportunity. We must fight. We must win.
Annie Porter
Senior
off-campus
Dec. 8
