Looking for new writers and graphic designers!

Come to our meetings every Sunday night at 8:30pm 5th floor of Lerner (near the student government office).
All are welcome.

Buy a T-Shirt

Do you love animals? Or sodomy? Then buy a Fed T-shirt!

About Us

We have a long and storied history. Learn more about us...

columbia's other newspaper
Issue 17.1: Orientation
Posted: September 1, 2001

Letter From Some Dude

August 23, 2001

To the Class of 2005,

Okay, let's get something straight. You are nothing special. Yeah, we've all seen the kind of glowing letters that Columbia sent mommy and daddy, but let's face it: none of you are going to win the nobel prize in anything. Hell, you couldn't even get into Yale. Just keep in mind that those impressive phrases like 'most selective class ever' and 'lowest acceptance rate in recent history' were used to describe every undergraduate class at this school for the past ten years or so.

The real reason they keep telling you this sort of thing is to fool your parents into paying $140,000 for a scrap of sheepskin (or, knowing Columbia, some inferior cat skin which required the death of three sheep regardless). Oh wait, nevermind. With Columbia's consistent policy of raising tuition above and beyond inflation, your parents' bill will be more like $165,000. Suckers.

Anyway, you're probably all filled with excitement for the upcoming year. You are young and innocent, full of aspirations and expectations. You may be asking yourself, "will I hit it off with that cute girl down the hall? Will I have engaging discussions on the great works of literature in my Lit Hum class? Will I be the coolest kid on my floor?" The answer, of course, is no. God, no. There are no attractive members of either sex at Columbia, there are no engaging discussions anywhere on this campus (excluding the grill at JJ's Place), and all the cool kids go to NYU.

All of your hopes and dreams can be deflated with a simple statement of fact: You are at Columbia.

Those of us who have spent some time at this institution know the significance of this statement, but you are probably not yet aware of exactly what this means to you.

Columbia is the forgotten Ivy, the sea glass in the crown jewels that is higher education. Contrary to what every has told you thus far, your opportunities will not increase with a Columbia degree. You have about as much chance of doing something spectacular after you get your Bachelors as our football team has of winning. The secret of education is that where you go to graduate school is what's really important. Take a look at the graduate students walking around. Get to know them. You'll most likely be serving them coffee in five years. And don't go assuming that a Columbia undergraduate degree will give you that much-needed edge for getting into graduate school. You could have had the same chance and saved a lot of money by going to a state school. It's not too late, though. You can still transfer.

I was once like you, ready to show this school and the world just what I could do. But then I took General Chemistry. Then Logic and Rhetoric. Each class I took slowly and inevitably chipped away at my faith in higher education. Every battle with the Columbia bureaucracy was like attempting to mud wrestle an angry 800 lb wildebeast into submission. Every sporting event I attended was like an episode of "When Sports Teams Send Their Cheerleaders to Play in Their Place." Every aspect of life here at Columbia seems cleverly designed to destroy all traces of morale on campus. And could someone please tell me where the real Psych Services is? The 8th floor of Lerner has to be some sort of cruel practical joke.

Anyway, in just four short years I can guarantee that you will be beaten down into the tired, bitter old burn-outs that you see walking out of Broadway and East Campus. Fighting only hastens the process. One day, you may be so bitter and cynical that you will take pleasure in destroying the hopes and dreams of the incoming freshmen. If this turns out the be the case, we'll keep a seat warm for you.

Sincerely,

A Bitter Federalist