Election Dates at the Faculty

What follows was written in the last week of September 2006, the date of the elections at the Faculty.
Election week at the Faculty. Quite an event—many polling tables open in alphabetical order by last name. This year they are optional; they alternate year by year between optional and mandatory. This week, as happens every time there are elections, the Faculty feels like a party. It is a completely different world from the one we are used to seeing. There comes a moment when everything becomes unbearable.
So many flyers. Wherever you walk, people hand you flyers—flyers that the vast majority of people don't read; they just take them and throw them in the trash. But after walking just two meters, you are handed more flyers again, often the exact same one you just threw away.
The activists wandering through the hallways, the ones who enter the classrooms before class starts to give their campaign speeches, and the bolder ones who try to go in right in the middle of a lecture.

The Faculty darkens because of all the posters blocking the windows. Posters of every color: orange, blue, green, black, light blue, purple, white, and many more. Student groups appear that didn't exist before or that you never see, alongside others you didn't even know existed. Other groups have always been there. Some merge with each other to form alliances—it is no surprise to see unions of groups that just yesterday were opposed to one another. They all fight for the same position. They all claim to be independent, but I dare say none of them are. They all accuse each other, they are all backed by political parties, and they all deny it as if it were something bad. There is everything, from left to right, fundamentalists and moderates. They all give you their governing platform. They all have projects. They all accuse each other of having no ideas. They all accuse the governing group of doing nothing. The governing group accuses the rest of never having been present at the Faculty. They all accuse each other of bringing in paid activists. They all bring activists from outside, mostly from other faculties. 

There are papers everywhere; old ones are torn down—old meaning posters that have been up for more than two days. New posters are put up. They fight over who has the biggest poster. The bigger the poster, the more expensive it is. The ones that invest less money have fewer posters. Some groups even stick up pages printed from a computer.

It must have some effect; everyone is annoyed by the flyers and posters, but there are always more. A visual effect—I don't know if it translates into votes, but that it works is for sure. Accusations of all kinds; all the groups are already hardened to it, it's as if it were nothing. Nobody proves anything, but accusations come in every variety. Some make jokes, others play music, others ride around in collage-carts; before, they used to hang flyers from carousels—inventiveness knows no bounds. They all tell you they were always there for the students. They all remind you of even the smallest detail of what they did, from handing out legal rulings, CDs, and even a flower, to reminding you of their administration providing computers, giving you a flower, hosting a conference, giving away a book, or signposting the Faculty. Anything goes. It was all for you, the student. They all have ideas and projects, all of them good, but they all know the other party's project is always bad.

And many students complain about the dirtiness, many of the very same ones who later throw their cigarettes on the ground; many question where the money for the flyers comes from, the same ones who later photocopy a book; many complain about the noise, the same ones who then spend an hour and a half of class chatting (distracting) with their classmate; and many complain about the flyers they take anyway, the same ones they refuse to accept when walking down the street; and many complain, with good reason, about the inconveniences caused. Everything is negative; no one says anything positive, and when they do, it is only to justify a critique that follows right after the nice things they said. The sound of a song bothers those studying in the quiet library.

Now the celebrations are approaching: the winners and the defeated, the taunts and the chants, a few sad faces, and then everything goes back to normal. The life of the activists is just like any other at the Faculty; they spend a large part of the day at their group tables, socialize, make friends, argue, run around, drink mate, sing, organize parties, study, gossip, chant at each other in groups, pretend to be serious, some are serious, some dress scruffily, others wear suits, always ready to help. Sometimes it’s nothing more than saying a few words; other times it requires drafting documents and guiding the disoriented. There is a lot of usefulness in their existence, yet many times one is left with the feeling of: what are they even here for? Perhaps for not being part of that group, for not belonging to that world, for having a different way of being at the Faculty. No one is there to question their actions; there has always been a time when the existence of these student groups was useful for even the smallest thing.

These young people have their world there. They don't judge the students who don't participate; it’s their way of living, they have their projects there, and no one can question what they do with their lives. "Participation" is the word—most don't participate. Many go, study their subject, and head back home; a few, the minority, get involved in teaching, and others in political activity. The rest use the Faculty as a stepping stone for their future plans, complete their 5 or 10-year cycle, and then never return. They aren't interested in anything regarding the institution, nor what the Faculty will become in the future; their priorities lie elsewhere, and at the Faculty, the only thing that matters is finishing the degree—and this perspective is also very respectable, just like all the others.

Respect for the Institution, and the Institution encompasses everything that keeps it alive, including political activity, the activists, the flyers, and the posters. That is how it works, and it is good that it is so. There is variety and freedom for it to operate this way. The elections last one week a year, 5 days, and then everything is over until the next year. In that week, you have choices—even the option proposed by those who wish this week didn't exist. Nobody ever chooses that option. Despite all the inconveniences this election week causes, everyone wants it; nobody wants it gone. We have the chance to choose, we have plenty of options to choose from, and we even have the choice not to participate at all. It makes me happy that it is this way, and that this election week exists at the Faculty.