Jamie Scriber is a Trent student secretly living in a Lady Eaton College janitorial closet, out of preference. They often joke with their parents about it being fate them to be a writer, given their last name. Their parents often joke back that they’re ashamed of them.
They say that those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, but boy is the TCSA striving to prove this wrong. Trent politics are at it again, this time with a focus on money and power. Since these motives have never before been the cornerstones of bureaucratic unrest in the history of time, the TCSA is bravely stumbling into uncharted territory, all for the benefit of us poor, depraved, voiceless students.
Several old newspaper clippings pertaining to this very topic were slipped under my janitorial closet door late last night by persons unknown. Though the paper is aged, the articles still have relevance. They tell the story of the precursor to the TSCA: the Trent Student Union, and its disbandment. Back in the mid-1990’s the TSU was criticized for drifting away from the legitimate, everyday concerns of students and was caught in an associated lawsuit. I cannot help but reflect upon the similarities between then and now as I rest my head on my mop pillow. I recall the immortalized words of the last president of the TSU, before her impeachment: “What are they going to do, impeach me?”
“But the leaders of today are not the leaders of yesteryear!” you scream down the halls of LEC, hoping I hear you from within my toilet paper fortress. I do hear you. I’m frightened that you used the word “yesteryear.” Are you an English student? I clutch my mop pillow a little tighter. Yet you are right. The TCSA are a just and fair authority who really do have our best interests at heart. They believe in the importance of tough love, and have only made a handful of students cry this week.
With all of this political action happening around campus, I have to wonder if anyone involved in extracurriculars at Trent are actually getting any studying done. With over 100 various clubs and levy groups to take part in, the need for inclusion and the desire to use up our spare time tugs us towards these outlets. Sometimes we have innocent intentions in joining a group, but sometimes these feelings can change as we become more involved; and as leisure gives way to passion, we can find ourselves caught up in something we never thought we would be a larger part of. I for one recently joined the Trent Equestrian Team, and through my inability to say no to others, am now sharing my small space with a rather hostile Danish Warmblood named Francine. I know I am not able to care for a horse but took on the responsibility anyway. This is called “biting off more than you can chew” and is most commonly used to describe situations where a University’s student union initiates a power struggle, but can also be used for normal, everyday hubris-related problems.
I would like to leave you with the aforementioned images of the fragility of balance and the cramped confines of a now shared closet space. If I were a confident person in my comedy, I would take this opportunity to make a joke about looking a gift horse in the mouth, but I won’t. That would just be filly.