Crackdown by university jeopardizes campus traditions

  Illustration by CASEY CROWE/Daily Bruin

By Matt Goulding
Daily Bruin Reporter

The pungent smell of burning chronic on campus and the repulsive
odor of flaming couches being dropped from apartment rooftops have
garnered reactions from local authorities and community members
over the last several years that have left students with nothing
more than dying traditions.

With the current intensity of activities like “420”
and the Midnight Yell burning away, UCLA students face the daunting
task of maintaining school traditions deemed illegal by the
university.

“These are victimless crimes,” said Andy Lifzyc, a
fifth-year political science student. “The only one who
criminalizes these are the UC and the older people in
Westwood.”

Lifzyc was one of 26 students detained in December 1999 when the
Midnight Yell turned into a battle zone on Glenrock Avenue and
surrounding areas of Westwood. The screams that once carelessly
filled the air were substituted for malfunctioning televisions
hurled from balconies as local media exposed the “riots of
Westwood” to the rest of the country.

Lifzyc said he and other students involved in the events felt
the term “riot” was an unfair exaggeration.

“We live in L.A.,” he said. “We know what real
riots are. That’s when you’re actually
scared.”

The Midnight Yell, along with other popular student activities,
are an important part of the college experience, Lifzyc said.

“Traditions are important to us,” he said.
“They try to tell us the way to get into UCLA is to be
well-rounded, but a well-rounded person isn’t all work and no
play.”

Nancy Greenstein, director of community services for UCPD, said
the force does not want to stifle student traditions, but rather,
the department is reacting to complaints voiced by concerned
citizens.

“Contrary to popular belief, we don’t want to arrest
students,” she said. “A majority of the complaints we
got were from kids who couldn’t study.”

As compared to previous years, Greenstein said the large volume
of complaints and the element of danger warranted immediate police
reaction.

The evolution of relatively harmless rituals into events
characterized by danger and community concern has become all too
common in the past few years.

“The activities themselves have a purpose, but they have
become a caricature of the original events,” said dean of
students Bob Naples.

Bathing in the inverted fountain ““ once an accepted
tradition enacted by graduating seniors ““ has undergone the
same exaggerated metamorphosis as the Midnight Yell.

In past years, surly students have decided to up the ante of the
originally composed ceremony. Coolers stuffed with libations have
replaced the customary glass of champagne, and the original washing
of the feet has turned into headfirst dives into the rushing bowels
of the fountain.

“I have seen this evolve in the six years I have been
here,” Naples said. “Once we started getting students
showing up in inebriated states, we needed to intervene to curtail
and modify this behavior.”

Students were susceptible to cuts from broken glass and other
injuries due to slippery rocks, Naples said.

But broken limbs and bloody feet should not be a problem this
year. Alcohol will still flow on graduation day, but the waters of
UCLA’s fountains will not as the energy crisis has rendered
them powerless.

On campus, “420” began as a relatively small ritual
for true marijuana devotees wishing to commemorate an important day
in their herbal culture. But in recent years, it has grown to an
overwhelmingly stony celebration.

In a tradition that seemed too good to be true for many,
Meyerhoff Park became a fusion of passionate
“greenthumbs” bearing impressive glass-blown
apparatuses as well as timid novices in search of accepted
exploration into this smoky rabble.

This spring, however, police presence increased and many of the
day’s events were suppressed.

According to Greenstein, UCPD did not react in past years
because the celebration originally consisted of a small, undetected
group of smokers.

“It has become bigger every year,” Greenstein said.
“We can’t just ignore it. We get a lot of calls saying
people are smoking dope and we want you to do something about it.
Smoking marijuana is still against the law.”

Naples said that student participants risk more than just legal
problems by partaking in the ceremonies.

“We tried to publicize this year that because of changes
in federal law, they ran the risk of losing financial aid if they
were caught on campus with drugs,” he said.

While the future may seem bleak for some of the students’
favorite traditions, Naples cited events like Spring Sing and the
rivalry with the University of Southern California as healthy,
legal alternatives to drinking, smoking marijuana and burning
couches. He said students seeking other ideas are welcome to
brainstorm with him and his staff.

Shelley Taylor, managing director of the North Village
Improvement Committee, is seeking cooperation with students as
well. A resident since 1956, she has witnessed the neighborhood
undergo a number of changes and said the increased student
population has added an interesting but frustrating dynamic to the
village.

“It’s difficult because both the students and the
families have always been here and the older adults have a
different lifestyle than the students,” she said.

The rowdy behavior, best exemplified in the Midnight Yell, has
left many residents scared to walk the streets of Westwood, Taylor
said.

“There should be parameters set to respect those not
involved with the university activities,” she said.

With both university authorities and local residents growing
increasingly sensitive to student activity, many turn to businesses
in Westwood to let off steam.

While not every student relies on partying to relieve stress,
those that do may find this task somewhat obstructed. Those seeking
to dance away their academic frustrations must look outside
Westwood.

Under the Westwood Village Specific plan, “nightclubs or
other establishments offering dancing or live entertainment”
must receive a special permit to operate in Westwood. Duets, a
nightclub on Westwood Boulevard that closed in 1999, was the last
of such popular college-town establishments.

In another change to Westwood’s college atmosphere,
students who once enjoyed frothy 33-oz. cups of Red Dog at
Schlotzsky’s Deli on Broxton Avenue can no longer do so, as
the shop closed June 3 after being in business for seven and a half
years.

“They could come here, relax on the patio and just enjoy
the afternoon,” said Mike McCarthy, manager of
Schlotzsky’s Deli. “A lot of students have been coming
here for years. This is one of the first places many have come on
their 21st birthdays.”

While owner Cheri Schekman cites personal reasons for the
closing, the casual atmosphere and student-friendly service will be
missed in a town continually searching for a college identity.

With the loss of cherished hot spots and the uncertain future of
many of the students’ favorite traditions, UCLA’s
social future remains in a volatile state, said Matt Hobart, a
fourth-year theater student.

Hobart said this condition is natural for a college area, but
there are certain constants that should exist for student
growth.

“It’s necessary to create a community that students
can identify with and where they can explore aspects of themselves
in developing a better-rounded personality,” he said.

But to the dismay of many students, burning couches and blazing
joints just might not cut it.

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