Crimson criticism goes too far
Issue date: 4/25/07 Section: Opinion
Sometimes it's easy to forget we're students. We are at college to learn and to try new activities. Particularly at a liberal arts institution, those new activities are often far outside our major and our plans for after college. From the baseball team to the yearbook committee, few students plan to make a career from the extracurriculars they join.
After hearing students' reactions last week, it appears we have lost sight of that vision for student organizations. The tirade of criticism students launched against their own yearbook was both disappointing and damaging to a student ethos of participation.
The yearbook started on the wrong foot in the middle of last academic year, when three members of the yearbook staff were left in charge of the operation after the editor abruptly resigned. With little training and no one to guide them through the process, they made mistakes. More could have been done to gather photos, to check layouts, to proofread.
Yet the truly troubling development, one that escaped notice by most students, was the organization's inability to recruit new staff members. For an organization that is entrusted with nearly $40,000 of student activity funds each year, it is not enough to rely on a trio of students, no matter how dedicated they are. Designing a quality publication with such little manpower is simply not possible. Crimson's inability to gather new staff means the challenges of this year are likely to recur again next year.
Yet the fault does not lie with just the Crimson staff. Dozens of student groups ignored repeated requests to submit information and photographs. Seniors were not forthcoming with class pictures and did not show up for portraits. No one stepped forward to assist a group of students clearly struggling to create their publication.
While students surely contributed to the yearbook's outcome and the Crimson staff faced difficult circumstances, this is hardly the first time producing a yearbook has proved a challenge. Over the last decade, the Crimson has struggled to consistently produce a product. Issues have been delayed, others have not appeared at all. When the yearbook appears months after the end of the year, it loses its value as a commemorative, a document that students can use to reflect upon and celebrate the year's conclusion.
Perhaps the student body should reevaluate the importance of continuing to publish a yearbook. In this age of Facebook and personal digital cameras, when pictures of last night's festivities are posted online by the next afternoon, perhaps there is a shrinking need for the annual compendium of photographs that makes up a yearbook.
Ripon is one of a very small number of colleges that produces a student yearbook, a feat made possible only by our small size. If we are to continue this tradition, we all must participate in making the Crimson our yearbook.
After hearing students' reactions last week, it appears we have lost sight of that vision for student organizations. The tirade of criticism students launched against their own yearbook was both disappointing and damaging to a student ethos of participation.
The yearbook started on the wrong foot in the middle of last academic year, when three members of the yearbook staff were left in charge of the operation after the editor abruptly resigned. With little training and no one to guide them through the process, they made mistakes. More could have been done to gather photos, to check layouts, to proofread.
Yet the truly troubling development, one that escaped notice by most students, was the organization's inability to recruit new staff members. For an organization that is entrusted with nearly $40,000 of student activity funds each year, it is not enough to rely on a trio of students, no matter how dedicated they are. Designing a quality publication with such little manpower is simply not possible. Crimson's inability to gather new staff means the challenges of this year are likely to recur again next year.
Yet the fault does not lie with just the Crimson staff. Dozens of student groups ignored repeated requests to submit information and photographs. Seniors were not forthcoming with class pictures and did not show up for portraits. No one stepped forward to assist a group of students clearly struggling to create their publication.
While students surely contributed to the yearbook's outcome and the Crimson staff faced difficult circumstances, this is hardly the first time producing a yearbook has proved a challenge. Over the last decade, the Crimson has struggled to consistently produce a product. Issues have been delayed, others have not appeared at all. When the yearbook appears months after the end of the year, it loses its value as a commemorative, a document that students can use to reflect upon and celebrate the year's conclusion.
Perhaps the student body should reevaluate the importance of continuing to publish a yearbook. In this age of Facebook and personal digital cameras, when pictures of last night's festivities are posted online by the next afternoon, perhaps there is a shrinking need for the annual compendium of photographs that makes up a yearbook.
Ripon is one of a very small number of colleges that produces a student yearbook, a feat made possible only by our small size. If we are to continue this tradition, we all must participate in making the Crimson our yearbook.
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