A Practical Answer

Anonymous 

My heart sinks each time I rush from class to the cafeteria only to find hundreds of students beat me to it, making a line longer than a tenured professor’s tangents. After waiting far too long in the cold, I make it past the ID scanner and then am forced to endure the cacophony made by countless classmates all in line for subpar supper.  

Going back to class I have to shove past peers shoulder-to-shoulder, barely squeezing into an overheated classroom seconds before the famed “let us begin with a word of prayer.” 

There seems to be no place left on campus where one can find solitude, quiet or peace. The library seldom has an open cubicle; open seats at Mass have become as mysterious as the Trinity; one cannot walk in the golf course with their significant other without stumbling upon a dozen other couples; where once there was a single roommate waiting in one’s dorm, now there are three.  

The problem here is an overabundance of freshmen. Each orientation since I began my academic career has proudly boasted the largest ever class of freshmen. The university is growing at an unsustainable rate, as it admits more students than it has the capacity for.  

Not only is housing a problem, but the food services are too few, facilities are too small, and there simply are not enough professors to go around. With freshmen dotted across it, this campus has become like the back of a lanternfly: crowded beyond reckoning with unavoidable spots. And, should you think you’ve found a clearing by moving the wings on its back, you’ll instead find a red surface littered with more dots. 

To make up for this influx of students, the university has just constructed a brand new academic building, twice the size of any previous building on campus and filled with every imaginable gadget a modern school should have.  

The university is also in the process of renovating the chapel, which, despite not solving the problem it was proposed for—that of far too few seats at Mass—is costing several million dollars. 

The school has never been in such a rapid state of expansion as it is today, and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down any time soon. This, unfortunately, also means that money has become rather tight, with rumors circulating about the school being in debt. 

In order to combat these new costs, the administration has decided to implement the obvious solution: taking on more students. More students means more tuition being paid, which means more money for the school. This, of course, means an increase in student population and thus a greater need for new buildings, which in turn means a greater need for more money. 

This would, at first, seem to be a vicious cycle. I, however, propose a solution. As I see it, the university faces two main problems: first, overabundance of students and, second, over-expenditure. My proposition will solve both, and it shall do so gracefully.  

I propose the foundation of a new program: Students United in Correcting Known Infrastructural Troubles. SUCKIT will serve as an opportunity for students to improve themselves and each other while also reducing the overcrowding on campus.  

The new program will begin with the construction of a six-acre arena in the golf course, wherein households will be given the opportunity to win glory. Each week, a number of brothers and sisters from each household will be selected—the number varying based on the school’s current admittance rate and population, though generally it will remain in the range of 1-4 per household.  

The selected students will enter the testing grounds, wherein they will find a plethora of swords, spears, shivs and shields; longbows, short bows, javelins and crossbows; bolas, nets and torturing sets.  

By liquidating their adversaries, crushing them like lanternflies, they will bring honor and glory to their households. They will further accrue accolades and monetary incentives for style, with the greatest awards being granted for live dismemberment. 

This competition will immediately address the greatest problems faced on campus. The student population will drop drastically, and it will continue to decline throughout the semester, creating more spaces for students to study and hang out, shortening wait times and giving some much needed elbow room to those who previously dealt with an excess of roommates. And, with the continual decline, students will reap these benefits all the more as they approach the stress of finals and packing. 

Further, spectators will flock to these contests, generating revenue for the school to spend on fixing the campus’ real problems, rather than just funneling every dollar towards expedited expansion. The crumbling dorms could be repaired; the subpar supper might see improvement; the temperature of classrooms might finally be temperate. 

The above mentioned advantages are only a few of the most obvious. SUCKIT will also foster a greater sense of healthy competition than Franciscan has ever seen, making up for the deficit left by our marginalized sports teams and uninspiring mascot. It will also improve bodily healthiness across all of campus, as students strive to be the most fit they can be for the program. 

I’ll be running for president of student government next semester. Should I be elected, I will make SUCKIT a reality. Vote for Anonymous in the spring 2025 election, and, together, we can make Franciscan a happier, freer place!