COLUMN: "The Politics of a President"

From Ericka Ann Guthrie's "The Fire This Time," Fall '92 I could not believe that Hackney would actually open himself up to uncensored criticism from the students at Penn. I was truly excited, and immediately began to compose a list of questions I would ask him. After talking about my intentions with a couple of upperclassmen, they basically told me not to get my hopes up. They told me that Hackney is, was, and always will be the perfect politician. Being the naive freshman that I was, I still went ahead and went to the "open forum." A lot of you probably can guess what happened there, but I'm going to explain anyway. The first thing I noticed when I got there was that there were only about 30 other people there at most -- and that's including the president's usual four or five sidekicks and the reporters from the DP. I went to the front of the room to sit with the five other black there, and pulled out my list. After a very diplomatic introduction, Sheldon opened up the floor for questions. After about the third question and response, I realized why there were only a handful of people there. He was not really saying anything. I mean, he made eye contact with whomever was talking to him. He made sure to nod appreciatively every few seconds. And all the while he managed to pose for some profile shots of the "kinder, gentler Hackney." But he never answered anyone's questions, or even tried to dance around the issues -- he simply smiled and said the same thing he had said in the introduction . . . nothing. Somehow, despite all the warnings, I still raised my hand and preceded to make myself look like a complete fool. After he smiled -- of course, he smiled -- and pointed at me, I stood up and said something to the effect of: "I realize that you say you are committed to making this University a better place for everyone, and you admit that blacks and women are not sufficiently represented at this school. As a black freshman woman at the University of Pennsylvania, what must I do to gain the respect and attention of you and the administration?" I admit that I was very nervous, and the fact that my voice was shaking did not give much punch to my question. But putting all that aside, don't you think that he could at least have tried to answer me? He looked at me for what seemed like a lifetime . . . I actually thought that he was going to lend me some words of wisdom, shed new light on my "Penn experience," or at least have one of his "people" hand me a "Minority Life at Penn" brochoure. Instead, he gave me one final once over, turned to the rest of the students, and said "Does anyone want to comment on her question?" Of course he got no "comments" on my question because everyone else in the room, including me, was under the impression that the question was directed at good old Sheldon himself. A good president never falters, and being the best of the best, I'm happy to report that Sheldon did not skip a beat. He scanned the audience to make sure he had not overlooked anyone in the back who might have something to add, and then proceeded to -- see if you can guess! -- smile and nod. The whole time he was smiling I realized there was something vaugely familiar about his mannerisms. Then it hit me. I saw it every day on the news -- it is part of the "politics of being a president," or anyone in power. After that, there wasn't much I could do. I debated whether I should create a scene or just chalk it up to experience, salvage what was left of my pride and leave. So I scraped my self-esteem off the bottom of his shoe, and did what many other frustrated students before me have probably done. I left before I did something stupid that I would probably regret all the way to University Police. Sheldon probably does not even remember the random black girl who he dissed that cold February evening, but please believe that I have not forgotten the warm reception I received. It's not as if I linger in his bushes every night planning an attack on his house. Obviously I have managed to survive at Penn without his "outstanding advice," and most people consider me a stable individual. Instead, I join the ranks of the many other frustrated and probably bitter students here at this University, and challenge Sheldon and every "diplomatic" step he takes. Ericka Ann Guthrie is a College sophomore from Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. "The Fire This Time" will appear alternate Fridays.

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