Walk down virtually any nook or cranny of the ASU campus and you'll find a large group of zealous individuals frighteningly interested in ensuring that ASU students are registered to vote. Is this some super loyal devotion that these people have displayed, making sure that ASU students have a voice in our society and are not simply brushed off as powerless? Not exactly.
Think of these fine fellows as pavers, laying a foundation on which the rest of their careers will be based. According to one worker, they receive $1 for each person they get to register. Strangely, if you say "I'm already registered" you don't hear, "Excellent! Rock the Vote!" Instead, you hear, "Well then, register under a different party!" Almighty dollar indeed, but this is only paying their dues.
What's more, they will use that aforementioned foundation to move on to greater ventures—the petitions. These, conveniently, require their participants to be registered voters. Of course any college campus is expected to have a plethora of causes in question, each requiring the concern of America's youth. However, despite the power some of these petitions might hold, have no doubt that their peddlers are receiving ample motivation. The least anyone I talked to got paid was $1.75 per signature. Some others, though, accrue $3 a signature.
I evince this not to impugn the actions of these petitioners: we all must work in some way. But how many students sign these petitions because of genuine interest? Most, one could accurately conclude, sign simply to avoid conflict, hearing everything from "Come on, just sign" to "Hey, don't you care about children's education?" We might ask the petitioners the same question.
Students often find and stick with the principles of a certain political alignment, but we can't say the same for these petitioners. It is perfectly plausible that one harvesting John Hancocks for a conservative cause may well find that the next week, a decidedly leftist cause is the highest bidder.
So perhaps nothing but free will should cause a student to sign what can become an exceptionally influential document. The next time a petitioner asks you whether or not you care, you may reply with "Not about your paycheck, I don't."
Despite all of this, the worst that could happen from signing a petition is soon finding your address in the hands of advertisers nationwide. But another common facet of our fine campus is the worker seeking people to sign up for those helpful Bank of America credit cards. If you doubt the sway this bank has at our school, just listen to the Sun-Dial processing message as your tuition undergoes approval. You'll be thrilled to hear the mighty "B of A" wishing us well with our school year. Isn't that the sweetest thing?
These students usually open with "Have you got your free T-shirt yet?" But be careful, those tricky monkeys will quickly fit you with a snazzy new credit card, and we all need no fewer than 17 of those.
This, too, is not for altruistic reasons, mind you, but for $3 on each applicant. The problem with this is that credit cards breed financial problems, perchance leaving the passive student with nothing but a crummy B of A t-shirt to wear on his or her back. There is little need to seek out and intimidate students into getting a credit card, the two or three hundred posters which litter our bulletin boards with credit card applications ensure that those who want them will receive them.
I don't want to brag, but I was recently pre-approved for credit line up to $5,000. Just thought I'd throw that out for any of you ladies that are into pre-approved kind of guys, like myself.
So, the next time you dare to walk from University to the Memorial Union, don't forget the motivations of our noble petitioners and credit card dealers. It's really not that difficult to tell them "no" and walk on to whatever coffee stand happens to be your destination.
Darren Todd is an English literature senior. Reach him at Lawrence.todd@asu.edu.
