By snoadmin
There was a capsule of time last week that indicated the Cal State Long Beach community had a soul, a spirit if you will, beyond the driver seats of in-and-out campus existence.
The moment of shared and contrary thoughts that nearly erased the “commuter campus” stigma associated to our university was a result of a good old-fashioned fire drill.
When all of the buildings emptied for the staged emergency evacuation, there were a host of reactions that made our vulnerability and susceptibility as humans turn into a form of neon signage.
The deer-in-the-headlights syndrome was nearly contagious. Lost souls wandered aimlessly because they were no longer required to be where they were supposed to be. Shell shock turned to mass hysteria. Extreme vocal opinion was met by extreme vocal counter opinion.
Up was down, down was up, but most importantly, a community atmosphere evolved.
It was strange to see people at The Beach slowed to a less than lemmings-to-the-forage pace. For that jiffy, we acted as learned (or nearly learned) human beings, rather than as sheep to the annual shearing.
Call it a breath of fresh air, name it a moment of reverse capitulation to thumbed-under administrative control or scream “socialism,” if you wish. But for a brief ellipse of time, CSULB escaped the stereotype of “commuter campus” and ventured into the realms of educated community, engaged activism and genuine concern for fellow humans.
The rights and responsibilities of the First Amendment to assemble, to share and meet, importantly, to contest voiced opinions were less than oblique. We acted as if we were a university community, whether we liked it or not.
Evacuating buildings during the rhythmic droning of the buzzers entered us into a surreal reality that “something exists besides me.”
The salmon-like rush from class to class was suspended. Educators were forced from their cubby holes, cell phone addicts seemed confused and clusters of people actually gathered in conversation instead of the typical rapidly exchanged high-fives and knuckle taps of recognition.
Friendship Walk turned into a virtual Berkeley-like activist exchange of conflicting and vocally expressed ideologies, rather than the shallow “Join Us” pluralism frequently associated with our high school days’ cliquish groupthink. There were more than three letters in the Greek alphabet.
Therein rests the problem for the hierarchy of the CSULB administration, dear Beachites. Allowing any form of congregated assembly (beyond the controllable division and exclusion of vying entities) is a violation of the “divide and conquer” theory deemed most effective in any bureaucracy.
The rulers of “our world” didn’t realize at the time that allowing our community to share and revoke ideas could be a threat to their power to limit and restrict shared conversation.
They weren’t concerned that emptying buildings in unison might allow us to communicate, albeit superficially and momentarily, in a slowed-down person-to-person display of shared humanity.
They (the CSULB administration) don’t want students, classified employees or faculty to know we are the source of their security. They don’t want us to pull back the curtain on the booth to find the wizard really isn’t.
The two sign-wielding pseudo-Christians on the lawn nearly started a riot. It was inspirational to see the many different groups and individuals shouting, “Go home,” and pointing to the imaginary exit. One could almost sense the spirit of John Lennon when the crowd started singing, “Na-na-na-na-na, hey-hey-hey, goodbye.”
The free exchange of ideas and potentials for solving global problems just might rely on our ability to get close enough to “count the coins in each other’s pockets.”
If it takes a weekly, unannounced “fire drill” to accomplish the feat of utilizing our right to free assembly, shared thoughts and inter-ideological communications, then let the buildings be evacuated more frequently – perhaps weekly, daily or hourly.
