A whopping 25 percent of the student body turned out to cast their votes in last Thursday's Duke Student Government legislator election-but I still can't figure out how exactly they did it. I was certainly planning to vote; just like avoiding platform shoes, it's the right thing to do. But as I headed toward the West Union building last week, one fatal glance at the posters on the wall caused me to make an abrupt U-turn.
The problem? A veritable flock of bright yellow campaign posters proclaiming, "Sheri Shepherd. I like sheep."
Sheep?! Don't get me wrong-I like sheep just as much as the next person, quite possibly more. Unlike a great number of people on campus, sheep are accommodating and easy to get along with. But I obviously don't like them as much as Sheri, who felt it necessary to base an entire campaign on her barnyard proclivities.
As I made my way across the quad-so that I could fulfill my daily quota of bumping and grinding while trying to navigate the aisles of the Lobby Shop-it became obvious that Sheri sheep signs were everywhere. A sign that said, "Sheri Shepherd, The Leader of the Flock" assailed me from a bench. Regardless of what she's implying about University students, this too seems inherently problematic. Not only does she feel the need to advertise an inherent fondness for sheep, she's getting delusional about her role in the barnyard hierarchy. The sheep is omnipresent, and somehow, it's supposed to be related to a DSG election.
I'm just bowled over by the sheer weirdness of this. Perhaps if the University were one big collective farm, the campaign strategy would make sense: We'd have a sheep candidate, a chicken candidate and perhaps even a tofu candidate. Given those choices, I'd definitely go with the sheep. But we're nothing of the sort and she wants to help create campus policy. I can only imagine where this could be headed. A Sheep Studies program, complete with a shearing certificate? Chapel recognition of sheep unions? A new University mascot?
The real kicker here is that Bo Peep's campaign proved victorious. Our Lady of the Sheep is now a fully ordained DSG legislator.
Unfortunately for some candidates, however, developing an inane campaign strategy wasn't a promise of victory. Doug Blum suffered defeat after plastering the campus with posters which said "Everybody have fun tonight, Everybody Doug Blum tonight," thereby astutely pointing out the textual similarity between "Doug Blum" and "Wang Chung."
And even Jason Sender, who made a blind stab at actually addressing campaign issues, was not successful in his election. While Jason perhaps deserves credit for addressing some campus issues, his platform contained this gem: "Reform the Alcohol Policy." Now there's an insightful campaign promise; the boy clearly feels our pain. Now, I'm not saying I like the alcohol policy any more than your typical AEPi, but the thing does represent countless hours of work on the part of administrators and students and several years of University planning. Saying that you're going to reform the alcohol policy is like promising to gut and renovate the East Union building next semester.
While Jason does get points for trying, there seem to be an even larger force at work: The inexplicable phenomena through which almost all successful candidates skipped the campaigning process altogether. It's magic, folks! Pretend you're not a candidate and you too can be elected to DSG.
The whole thing baffles me. DSG has made great strides during the past several years in terms of improving its status among students and administrators, and like it or not, the organization has the potential to wield a great deal of power.
I fail to understand, however, how DSG plans to maintain its current level of campus respect if our options involve making a decision between farm animals, bad '80's songs, impossible campaign goals or no campaign at all. If candidates continue to ignore their responsibility to campaign, they will undermine the voting process and the effective representation structure it can facilitate.
I have no doubt that all of the candidates out there have redeeming qualities that make their mothers love them, but it's time to move beyond drastic, foolish strategies that attempt to make people remember names.
Particularly when it comes to anything involving sheep.
Autumn Arnold is a Trinity senior and senior editor of The Chronicle.
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