Being on campus during ASUC elections season can be annoying; that’s well-documented, irrefutable.
It can be overeager, glossy-faced candidates in your ears at 8 a.m. pontificating about impossible platforms; unbiased announcements in class encouraging you to vote by voices who just so happen to belong to candidates; acquaintances met at parties suspiciously happy about shaking your hand.
But there is beauty in ASUC election season as well. This is what I’ve noticed:
There are three-foot-tall close-ups of candidates’ beaming faces floating above Sproul Plaza, hoisted one wooden stick above those very same faces utterly devoid of irony, slightly more harried but no less enthusiastic than their frozen images.
Even better, there are the faces that don’t match their signs, the faces forced into campaigning by Greek life or club life, hilariously disinterested head-on-stick bearers balancing their burdens against their shoulders while they text.
There are the signs sans faces, the black-and-white text boxes designating only names, party affiliations and voting numbers, a surefire way to really nail a platform into potential voters’ heads.
And there are the unlucky out-of-town visitors, dumbfounded by the chaos. “Are these local elections?” I’ve heard them ask after being approached.
That’s not to mention the Sproul scoper-outs, gazing intently into the hordes of passers-by for the perfect person to walk to class. I can never help but wonder:
How do they choose? Are they seeking out people they think match up with whichever party they’re campaigning for? People who don’t seem like they’re in a hurry? People who might most benefit from a walk to class, who could use someone to talk to? Why don’t they ever stop me?
There’s the washed-away, foot-trampled chalking down Telegraph, illegible but intriguing for visiting children who gawk at the colorful blurs, wondering whether they’re also allowed to draw anywhere they want to.
There are the puns of candidates’ names: the puns on last names, puns on first names, nonsensical puns on no names.
There is the unembarrassed decision in the two major parties to end the practice of letting each other off for election violations to avoid mutually assured destruction, the nonchalant admission that it’s a practice that’s gone on for years.
There are the guidelines about how much parties can spend, checks and balances put in place to make sure burritos don’t play too big a role in determining our leaders.
There’s the whimsical third party, caught somewhere between critically subverting the system and wanting desperately to get a candidate to its head, simultaneously supportive of a party chair who dons diapers to election forums and a presidential candidate who promises serious bridge-building.
I might be getting a little too snarky here. I don’t mean to say the elections are altogether farcical.
Even in their silliest moments, they’re encouraging, too. If nothing else, the elections are indicative of an admirable seriousness about building our own tiny and independent government, and the passion that goes into that is exciting.
Because in addition to the silliness, there’s the experience of sitting behind the Defend Affirmative Action Party at the Daily Cal’s election forum last Friday and realizing that the party members probably know they aren’t going to win. They’re putting the time in because they really believe in their message, that when they cheer for each other, they’re cheering for the establishment of an ideal they know will be an uphill battle.
And there’s the fact that the election has brought important questions into greater prominence — questions about the campus’s policies to address sexual assault and the ASUC’s troubling fiscal situation.
The election has demonstrated the way that some determined student leaders can use their offices for more than just petty squabbles over club funding, that they can bridge party lines by addressing issues affecting the campus altogether.
And then there’s my favorite vignette of all, an image from pre-Sprouling hours Wednesday morning. As students on their way to 8 a.m. classes curiously passed a group of CalSERVE folks near Sather Gate, the campaigners stood in a circle and shook.
Presumably gearing up for a day of campaigning, the candidates counted down as they shook each of their limbs in turn, shaking one arm — counting down five, four, three, two, one — and then the other — five, four, three, two, one. Shaking one leg — five, four, three, two, one — and then the other.
And it was with an utterly serious, deliberate and mesmerizing air that they shook and chanted, perfectly in sync, preparing for their task.
Contact Sarah Burns at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter: @_SBurns.