For much of the United States’ history, the government has struggled with how to legislate the use of alcohol. From Prohibition to the call to lower the drinking age during the Vietnam War as part of “redefining adulthood” to the current controversy over the drinking age, the United States, unlike other Western countries, is unsure of how to view alcohol.

We cannot deny that the drinking age does affect a significant portion of the Boston College community as it forces many freshmen, sophomores, and even upperclassmen to “binge” drink or “pregame” behind closed doors because they cannot drink in controlled, socially healthy environments such as restaurants and sporting events.

According to Ruth Engs, professor of the applied health sciences department at Indiana University, 22 percent of all students under 21 compared to 18 percent over 21 years of age are heavy drinkers. Among drinkers only, 32 percent of under age, compared to 24 percent of legal age, are heavy drinkers. The drinking age also encourages intoxicated underage students to not seek medical attention for themselves or others on many college campuses – including our own.

Unhealthy drinking habits such as binge drinking will always occur on and off college campuses.  With a drinking age of 18, however, young adults would drink in a much healthier environment. At every bar, restaurant, sporting event, and concert, social norms exist that generally help restrict the alcohol consumed to a more moderate amount. And with availability of alcohol at those events, there will be less of a pressure to pregame.

Opponents of lowering the drinking age argue that the current drinking age has decreased alcohol-related accidents. However, research has shown that alcohol-related vehicular incidents were decreasing before the drinking age was raised and were related to advancements in the field of vehicle safety such as increased air bag and safety belt usage and lower speed limits. And after the raising of the drinking age, these trends showed little change.

After the 1987 law tying the 21-year old drinking age to road improvement funds for states, there has been an increase in the overuse of alcohol by teenagers according to surveys reported by Engs, especially among college students. For example, from 1982 until 1987 about 46 percent of students reported “vomiting after drinking.” This jumped to over 50 percent after the law change. The increase in vomiting after drinking is significant because it demonstrates that a law that was supposed to increase the safe use of alcohol by young adults is actually doing the opposite. Clearly, the law is not achieving its objectives. Although the margin is only 4 percent  and could be considered negligible, the figures indicate that the effects of the law actually move against the law’s very objectives.

The lowering of the drinking age from 21 to 18 would, in general, allow young adults to drink in safer environments and promote healthier drinking habits. However, no law – state or federal – will eliminate the abuse of alcohol as demonstrated by the failure of every attempt to control alcohol consumption. Illegal drinking will always occur.

But it is our responsibility as a society to promote healthier habits. Culturally, we must set boundaries on alcohol consumption by distinguishing between moderation and abuse. If alcohol consumption is seen as a natural part of life, instead of as something illicit and negative, then future generations will not see its abuse as a rite of passage. Rather, it would be a more seamless transition – not one necessitating the consumption of a life-threatening amount of alcohol.

By Karen Kovaka, Gavel Columnist -

“I see you.”

That’s my favorite line from Avatar. Sure, as I think about it now, a couple weeks after seeing the movie, it seems a little corny.

But more important than my retrospective analysis is my first reaction to “I see you” — the reaction I had while I was still immersed in the reality created by Avatar.

Continue Reading

Nicholas Schaufelberger -

For the past few months, we have watched Democrats and Republicans duke it out on Capitol Hill over the biggest political question of the year: health care reform. Continue Reading

The Gavel presents itself as “the progressive news source of Boston College.” What do we mean by “progressive news source?” How does our definition of “progressive” shape the presence and role of our publication? These are some of the questions we hope to answer for readers and in so doing assert ourselves as a new, independent campus media organization. Continue Reading

Karen Kovaka -

Words and gardens: two things which, perhaps, you would never have thought to put together. But, suppose they have a lot in common. Suppose that words and gardens, speaking and farming, land and language, are connected to each other and to humans in strange and powerful ways. What difference would it make?

Speech acts and agricultural acts are deeply intertwined human tendencies, and uncovering the correspondence between the two will help us see them and ourselves in fresh ways.

Words and gardens are connected by virtue of the ways that people relate to both of them. First of all, there is a relationship of dependence between people and their land and between people and their languages.

After all, human society can’t get along without either. Though individuals can get by without ever weeding a garden or uttering a word, people in general need both agriculture and speech in order to sustain and express themselves. While it’s difficult to imagine a world without clothing or sports or machines, it’s impossible to imagine a world without speech or agriculture that is still a human world.

To balance this relationship of dependence, there also exists a relationship of power. The story of humanity’s power over the earth is an old one, often re-told, and it mirrors the story of humanity’s power over language. These two cultural lynchpins upon which our lives and societies depend are also our playthings, cultural products which we build and shape and control.

The fact that dependence and power are coexistent with and basic to human interactions with land and language means that our relationships to these two things are (1) very rich and complex, (2) easily overlooked, and (3) formative for all of us, even when we don’t know it. We can’t take a step or a bite of food without manifesting dependence upon and power over the earth. We can’t greet a friend or turn on the TV without demonstrating that we constantly inhabit the “space” of language, that we are acted upon by words and that we creatively act upon them to express ourselves.

From this starting point, you can argue all kind of symmetrical relationships between people and land and between people and language. For instance, through “words and gardens”:

● People living in the present exert influence over the future. From the hanging gardens of Babylon and the Epic of Gilgamesh to poisoned soil and the silver tongue of Adolph Hitler, few human endeavors are more enduring than works of agriculture and language.

● People express love and care for one another. (As evidenced by Valentine’s Day staples: candlelit dinners, bouquets of roses, love letters, poetry, and boxes of chocolates.)

● People demonstrate their capacity for either responsibility or destruction. Aside from certain basic physical limitations, the only thing that limits human exploitation of agriculture and speech for destructive ends is our choice to care for the words and the places which we inhabit.

The list could go on for pages. What does it all mean, though? This new view of words and gardens also amounts to a fresh view of self, and I am wondering what it means to think of humans as the kind of beings whose existence is deeply connected to words and gardens.

Most people don’t give much thought to being a person of the land or a person of words. This connectedness doesn’t get much attention or consideration – and perhaps a lack of focus on things which are so fundamental results in an incomplete and skewed perspective on what it means to be “me.” If we gave more thought and attention to speech and agriculture, is it possible we would come to a truer understanding of ourselves?

Michael Mullin -

When it is all said and done, history has a way of writing itself. For the last couple weeks, the incessant drone of the relatively uneducated were proclaiming Peyton Manning as perhaps — wait for it — “the Greatest of All Time.” This label, innocuous to some (hysterical to me), was dependent on a Colts victory. Thankfully, a full scale uprising of Peytonites was avoided, but the dye had already been cast. Thousands of football fans had coalesced and decided history before the fact.

This phenomenon — call it the CNN complex — has effortlessly and unassumingly either empowered or enraged the talking head tendencies in opinion holders across America. The dominance of 24-hour news cycles and punditry on cable television has unsurprisingly created a niche for talented oracles, like Glenn Beck and Charles Barkley, and their utterly incomprehensible rants. Diatribe and the outlandish prediction have replaced real sports commentary, real political commentary, and real news.

That is not the problem. It’s business as usual for Fox News, as Beck, apparently readying himself for a future in amateur cave diving, has been loading his pockets with scammed gold (though we know this is because he managed to scare off all his former advertisers).

I watch the NBA on TNT every night, and the best part is easily Charles Barkley. Out of cable news rubble have emerged Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert as fairly reli¬able and consistently entertaining news sources. The talking head is here to stay, which is not necessarily a bad thing.

Issues arise when opinionators start toying with history. I wasted 30 minutes of my life (30 minutes!) Saturday night before the Super Bowl, listening to the ramblings of an incoherent android. By the end of it, the filth spewing from his mouth, like the spray off a Mark McGwire back pimple, had contaminated guys like Jim Brown, Barry Sanders, and even Joe Montana. Dismayed as I was, I could not find among the ostensibly dwindling crowd of uninterested listeners one person who would back me. First of all, Peyton Manning is still playing, so the jury, should recess until he hangs up his cleats. Second, the argument is moot because of Rex Grossman and a 9-9 playoff record. Lastly, the guy is still playing, for crying out loud.

Why does this matter? In the midst of an awful financial situation and earnest attempts to push necessary health care and job measures through a broken Congress, the collective American body politic, including President Barack Obama himself, only seem concerned with one thing: history. The buzzword for the Obama administration, “unprecedented,” is draped upon every piece of its agenda: unprecedented health reform, unprecedented financial stimulus, unprecedented Republican obstructionism. The only precedent Obama is following is his predecessor’s penchant for legacy mongering, though more subtly, like a professor assigning the textbook he wrote for required reading. Or is that Glenn Beck’s scheme?

Maybe the CNN complex is not to blame. Maybe, as one would expect after a, historically speaking, brilliant campaign, the daily conclusions arrived at, by political junkies and the casual cable news watcher alike, on Obama’s place on Mount Rushmore come with the territory. Maybe, after so many record-breaking regular seasons, Manning deserves to at least be in the conversation. Nein, I say! You don’t start a land war in Asia with winter on the brink, and you don’t call history until it is done happening.

I love Obama. I think I always will, even if his approval ratings drop to Dubya-esque levels. He’s just my guy. But if he, and the rest of the administration, cannot find a way to shift their focus from the historical implications of the reform on the docket to pushing effective reform initiatives through Congress, he is going to end up looking less like Kurt Warner in the playoffs (a methodical, pragmatic leader) and more like Manning in the playoffs (a choke artist).

Jamie Zhang / Chris Fegan – (Photo courtesy of masslive.com)

Jamie Zhang -

As former Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill once said, “All politics is local.” The Martha Coakley-Scott Brown election, while la¬beled otherwise by pundits and politicians alike, is an almost perfect example of that axiom. Continue Reading

While establishing the Society of Jesus, the very organization that would provide as the inspira­tion for the founding mission of Boston College, St. Ignatius outlined one of the major tenants of his new organization, cura personalis. Cura personalis, which translates to “care of the whole person,” instructs Catholics to provide individualized attention to the needs of others as well as a distinct respect for the unique circumstances and concerns of others. With that philosophy in mind, Boston College was founded as a Jesuit institution for higher learning.

However, the motto of cura personalis has at times been ignored by the BC administra­tion as specific parts of our community have been neglected — specifically the GLBTQ com­munity. Steps have been taken by the administration to heed the call of St. Ignatius, but more steps still need to be taken — including the creation of a GLBTQ resource center and the institutionalization of several programs including, but not limited to, “Queer Peers.”

Some in the BC community argue, that as a Catholic institu­tion, any support of the GLBTQ community by the university administration could be perceived as a condoning of homosexual­ity — which contradicts Catholic teachings on the subject. How­ever, in a letter by then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, now Pope Bene­dict XVI, titled “On the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons,” stated that homosexuality “is a proper focus for the Church’s pas­toral care. It thus requires of her ministers attentive study, active concern and honest, theologically well-balanced counsel.”

The words of Pope Benedict XVI have been met with action across the campuses of Catholic universities around the United States. Almost 20 years ago at Fordham University, the then president of the university, Rev. Joseph O’Hare, released a public statement backing the GLBTQ community in which he stated, “Catholic teaching insists that all individuals be treated with respect and understanding as they work to integrate their own sexuality into their personal lives.”

Similar action was taken by the Jesuit-run Santa Clara University as they declared that support for gay organizations is “the Catholic thing” to do.

At Georgetown University, the administration took a similar approach to that of the BC ad­ministration: a silent co-existence with GLBTQ organizations, but a lack of a true involvement in the issue by the university. Then, in October of 2007, two attacks motivated by anti-gay bias, both involving homophobic slurs and physical assault occurred to a Georgetown student. In response, the Georgetown university admin­istration increased their support of GLBTQ students — includ­ing the opening of a GLBTQ Resource Center.

However, the BC community cannot afford to take the same path as the Georgetown com­munity did. We cannot afford to wait for a catalyst, such as a hate crime, to finally motivate the ad­ministration to become substan­tially involved in the issues that the GLBTQ community faces on campus.

The university should be commended for the steps it has already taken to assist the GLBTQ community on cam­pus – including the creation of the GLBT Leadership Council (GLC). However, more action is needed. Recently, GLC has unveiled a rough outline on ad­ditional programs and resources they would like to see made avail­able for the GLBTQ community on campus including a Queer Resource Center, a student-men­torship program, and the creation of a GLBTQ alumni network. Not only does the university need to become a more vocal advocate of solutions to GLBTQ issues on campus, but also, the administra­tion simply needs to show more support for its own students and the problems affecting them.

This past year has seen its share of controversy: the passage of the sexual health referendum, the commotion surrounding the cancellation of Bill Ayers’ lecture, and the Forbes feature that ranked Boston College the 17th worst school for interaction across racial and socioeconomic lines. UGBC leaders have a responsibility to work through such challenges, but this cycle’s candidates took only cursory steps to address them. Despite such shortcomings, The Gavel endorses Charlie Witmer and Courtney Dower for UGBC president and vice president because ultimately, they will be stronger representatives for the student body than opponents Micaela Mabida and Patrick Raab.

Witmer and Dower ran a strong, well oiled operation that placed importance on outreach to students. Their Web site invited comments and suggestions and their door-to-door campaign asked students for input — strengths that are indicative of a positive, open relationship with students if elected. Their complementary problem-solving styles are highlighted both by Witmer’s position as UGBC chief of staff, which provides the experience necessary to implement change, and Dower’s newcomer status, which brings a fresh perspective. The Witmer-Dower platform focuses on a number of achievable goals, such as establishing CabShare and BikeShare programs. Their Spring Weekend plan will help entrench a sense of tradition and cohesiveness of student spirit that any university would find valuable.

We also commend Mabida and Raab for the passion they brought to the election. Their campaign’s greatest strength was its focus on building a connection with freshman and AHANA students. Despite these advantages, they did not reach out to the GLBTQ Leadership Council president or vice president until after the primaries, neglecting to acknowledge an important constituency. They also failed to include any stance at all on the testing of sexually transmitted infections and sexual health at large in their platform. While Mabida acknowledged that their campaign failed to adequately research the issue prior to developing their platform, we feel that a commanding knowledge of the problem is essential to leading UGBC.

Mabida and Raab’s silence on sexual health is symptomatic of the lack of a strong stance in significant areas of concern on both tickets. The referendum that passed last year, with 89 percent of the vote, called not only for affordable STI testing, but also open access on campus to condoms and other contraceptives for students. The student body issued a resounding mandate that has been ignored by the current UGBC administration, and this election presents an opportunity for candidates to finally capitalize on the hard work of BC Students for Sexual Health.

While Witmer and Dower’s approach of incremental implementation of the referendum is preferable to no position at all, the short-term successes they hope to forge should not come at the expense of sustained pressure for progress. For example, although it may be unreasonable to ask the BC administration to provide students with condoms, because such a policy would be in direct conflict with Catholic ideology, it is not an unreasonable goal to fight to decriminalize the on-campus distribution of condoms by BC Students for Sexual Health, who do not ask for university funding. We are disappointed by the lack of interest shown by both campaigns to an issue with such significant student support, especially because it is directly related to physical health. Moreover, without a much stronger showing of solidarity from UGBC, students’ commitment to this initiative will have been in vain.

The campaigns also need to more substantially address academic freedom. The candidates acknowledged that the University’s speaker policy needed revision after last year’s botched Bill Ayers visit, without outlining any specific ways of addressing it. But there is a further failure on both sides to understand that academic freedom is more than guest lecturers — it is the ability of students to explore intellectual curiosities. Freedom to test convictions in the marketplace of ideas is crucial for both a private research university and a functioning, participatory democracy. UGBC’s current push for academic advising is functionally meaningless if university policy precludes a frank and open exchange of ideas between professors and students.

Witmer-Dower and Mabida-Raab did not adequately acknowledge the burden with which many BC students are currently struggling. They expressed support for the Montserrat Coalition, which provides affordable access to campus events for students of lower income, but this is not enough. If the candidates are serious about inclusion, they should work with the University on prioritizing students’ economic concerns.

We realize that reaching these goals will be neither immediate nor easy. They will require years of arduous negotiations and difficult compromises. We fear that because of the enormous obstacles standing in the way of progress, significant policy problems are being shelved for the next generation of students. Generic platitudes in the platforms should not preclude progress on these big picture problems. We caution students against complacency and apathy in light of significant status quo issues – talk to the candidates about your concerns. We endorse Charlie Witmer and Courtney Dower for their energy, genuine desire to connect with and include student voices, and realistically attainable initiatives. We hope that our endorsement will encourage them to stand resolved to fight for meaningful improvements.

By Meg Lister -

The United States has vowed to respond with a “swift, coordinated, and aggressive effort.” In a speech on Jan. 13, President Barack Obama outlined a three-step plan to deal with the effects: account for US citizens and embassy personnel, mobilize resources, and “ensure that the government acts in a unified manner.”

No, we have not been bombed. The terror threat level remains the same as before the event. None of our officials have been assassinated or attacked with anthrax. We are merely responding to the earthquake that shook Haiti, causing much of its infrastructure to collapse and demolishing structures throughout the capital, Port-au-Prince.

The island country, which lies next to the Dominican Republic and south of Cuba, was shook by a 7.0 magnitude earthquake on January 12th. Haiti is already the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere and suffers from extreme poverty, illiteracy, poor sanitation, and health concerns. Conditions on the ground are miserable: people scream, cry, and call for help as they or their loved ones lie trapped under rubble. This is the epitome of absolute misery and terror; it is emotional devastation beyond what any normal college student could comprehend. We sigh at the television screen, offer up a prayer at the dinner table, or donate a few dollars at a hockey game as the truly ambitious await the announcement of a new service trip: “Appalachia Goes Abroad!” Every volunteer or donor has a different reason for diverting their time or money; a sense of sympathy and humanitarian duty commonly top the list.

But how does true compassion factor into our responses? Compassion, as derived from the Slavic form of the word, means “feeling with.” It is a form of love to be able to embrace another’s pain, joy, and trials. It takes a breadth of extreme feeling and emotion to love those we do not know and have never met. In one sense, we are incapable of compassion towards the Haitians. I cannot imagine the mental or physical pain they are experiencing now, as conditions on the ground continue to worsen and media coverage gradually fades away. When I imagine losing my home, I picture my tearstained self running into the open arms of friends and relatives. In Port-au-Prince, however, there is nobody to run to, nowhere to look for consolation. Everything they know and everywhere they used to go has been destroyed. Look at it this way: If Cormac McCarthy had waited a few years to publish The Road (and slightly changed the setting); his novel might not be in the science fiction section.

Two weeks ago, I yelled energetically and goaded fans to drop a few cents into an orange paint bucket at the BC-BU game. By the end of the first period, I was hoarse and Catholic Relief Services was about $4,000 richer. It was fun to gather with my peers and bang noisemakers in the faces of BU fans. Four thousand dollars will buy approximately ten thousand bottles of water for thirsty refugees (unless purchased at the BC dining hall). Water is nice, but isn’t there anything else I should or can be doing? I cannot feasibly take the rest of the semester off, fly to Haiti, and nurse people back to health. “Appalachia Goes Abroad!” has yet to get off the ground, both literally and figuratively. The fundraising effort is a “been there, done that”, though it is always possible to contribute further. I gave twenty dollars, which is all my bank account can handle after being robbed by textbook sales. Even after logically exhausting many options, I cannot shake the want and need to do something more.

This cannot be classified as true compassion, but I hope my feelings fall into the realm labeled “Deep Sympathy.” I feel as if it is my duty to know more, feel more, do more, to share in Haiti’s human burden. I cannot find a panacea or even a logical solution to the issue—and in my defense, I doubt that anyone can. Here is the somewhat illogical moral of the story: take a day and volunteer at a shelter, like Haley House or Rosie’s Place. Buy the homeless man by the 7-11 at Cleveland Circle a sandwich. Give up your seat on the T to an old lady. The inability to feel compassion or extensively contribute for the earthquake victims has at least opened my eyes to that which I can identify with and make a difference in. Next, the illogical cliché: even in the worst kind of disaster, there is lesson to learn and progress to be made. Just try to imagine what it would be like to live on the street and watch people like yourself walk by in warm clothes, with money in your pockets. Try this and maybe the world will feel a little more compassion.