I went to Stanford University, but I grew up talking about the University of California, Berkeley. For three generations, Cal has been a pivotal place in my family. Like any other university, this university also shapes the lives and careers of its students. But perhaps more than any other campus in America, it is the birthplace of many students’ political passions and adventures in activism.
I grew up hearing about Cal not only because it was where my grandmother, mother, and eventually my sister attended school, but also because it formed the political perspectives that formed the basis of their identities. Because it was the location.
For many Stanford students, their opinion of Cal borders on indifference, rooted in the belief that the Stanford-Cal debate is worthless. Maybe it’s because of my deep family ties to Cal, but I reject that attitude. Stanford may have many advantages over Cal, but many people believe that Stanford is better across the board and that there is nothing to learn from Stanford. It doesn’t mean anything.
Case in point: Cal State’s political culture, a much admired and much criticized activism, is far more vibrant than our own. California is Mario Savio’s campus and home to his fierce attacks on the “machine” that sparked the important free speech movement of the ’60s. This is the campus that was part of the massive anti-apartheid protests of the 1980s. It was a scene that took place just 10 years ago during the large-scale Occupy Wall Street demonstrations. Whether you agree with the method or the cause or not, there is passion running through California’s political culture, and at the same time, politics is sewn into the fabric of university culture in a way not found at Stanford. It’s hard to deny.
Cal’s political culture is not perfect. Maybe it’s not even healthy. Activist culture can be arbitrary, exclusive, and downright hateful. The flyer they created for their respected law school dean Erwin Cemilinsky proved that. It’s a part of their culture that doesn’t belong here or there or anywhere. But strip away the technique, and while it’s confrontational, there’s something to be said for the passion of their political environment.
I was at the Tresider Memorial Union while the election was taking place. As the crowd jeered at the news of Ted Cruz’s re-election to the U.S. Senate, I wondered how frighteningly similar the depressed environment was to 2016, and how euphoric the campus was in 2008. I wondered if it was. In this election, many students at Stanford University seemed to care (as evidenced by the anti-Cruz groans), but at the same time many students were simply indifferent.
After the election, protests took place in California. A similar thing happened in 2016. In 2016, a “Love trumps hate” march was held at Stanford University. Nothing similar happened now. Moreover, the conversations I heard around campus, even in political venues like the Stanford Political Alliance, seemed as much passively interested as actually invested. Some students seemed to care about the outcome, while others were simply interested in what the outcome would be, as if they were watching a football game where their favorite team wasn’t playing. There seemed to be. It seemed that he did not understand President Obama’s words that “elections have consequences.” ”
A certain amount of apathy exists in every university, but we must try to minimize it. Protests are not a necessary condition for political engagement, but they do signal the presence of political engagement. Stanford University does not need large-scale marches or confrontations, but it should have a sense of dialogue and political investment. Politics shouldn’t be everything in your life. You should be able to talk and be friends with people you disagree with. But it should be a part of your life. Government and politics pervade every industry, and to ignore governments and those who run them is to distract from the realities of the world.
Why does the activist culture here at Stanford feel different than that at the University of California? There are several theories.
First, students at Stanford University are generally wealthier than students at the University of California. As a result, they have historically been less vulnerable to the malign whims of politicians and felt less stake in the country’s political future.
Second, Stanford’s unique relationship with Silicon Valley attracts a type of student, filled with technological optimism and often focused on enriching Silicon Valley. People are focused on changing the world, but not on why. This does not promote political engagement or dialogue. Universities must strive to instill in students a strong sense of investment in the future through classes.
But if Stanford really wants the winds of freedom to blow, it needs to understand not only how to change the world, but also why that change matters and whether that change is a good thing in the first place. We have to make it possible. Compared to Cal, we are a bunch of apathetic people who have some interest in politics but don’t yet have a true political culture. Fortunately for us, across the bay there are models of both what should be and what should not be. We would like to provide you with the best parts possible.