The Boston Red Sox fans’ mantra, sadly optimistic in the apocryphal way a condemned man anticipates a stay of execution that never comes, is so infectious that even non-native Bostonians (such as myself) can’t help but allow it to permeate our lives. I don’t even have any ownership of the unofficial BoSox motto as my home team, the Florida Marlins, made this year the year, and our last trip to the World Series was only six years ago anyway. Nevertheless, here I am mourning Pedro Martinez’s incompetence on the pitcher’s mound and Grady Little’s fatal decision to leave him in.
I’m talking about the baseball post-season of course, but “maybe next year” isn’t just about sports; it’s about Massachusetts. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Pilgrims, upon landing at Plymouth Rock, conceded, “Maybe next year we’ll sail someplace nicer – like Tahiti,” as they resigned themselves to harsh New England winters and the unenviable task of building a society.
Massachusetts’ unique brand of optimistic pessimism crosses all ethnic and cultural boundaries. It is just one of the quirks that separates native New Englanders from outsiders like me. However, a person can only escape its virulent grasp for so long; like the fabled Curse of the Bambino, “maybe next year” follows New Englanders around like a shadow.
Last week, I practiced free-form Japanese conversation with my professor and a few people from class. After struggling through a labored explanation of the hours I work, I ran out of things to say. Suddenly, I blurted out an indiscriminate question about funding, or more precisely the lack thereof. The Asian Languages Department clearly had experienced severe budget cuts, but the instructors never talked about it; they just worked twice as hard so that the cuts were imperceptible to their students.
My Japanese sensei for the past three semesters, Aiko Toyooka, informed me that the Japanese department doesn’t have any money, so she doesn’t even have a computer in her office; she uses her personal laptop at school. The department has no money for photocopies, so our vocabulary quizzes are administered on paper that she recycles from used handouts.
The Foreign Language Resource Center was eliminated after the spring 2002 cuts, so the University of Massachusetts dismantled the center’s website this semester; all of the Japanese language audio exercises that were previously maintained on the site had to be loaded onto WebCT. Consequently, Japanese students couldn’t complete the listening exercises until this month.
This semester, Toyookasensei is teaching an intensive Japanese language course that meets five days a week and the discussion section for another intensive course. In addition, she conducts practice sessions outside of her office hours to help improve students’ fluency in the language. Other Japanese and Chinese language instructors and teaching assistants are also facing similarly demanding schedules and budgetary woes.
Toyookasensei’s attitude, however, reflects that patented New England sentiment: maybe next year the funding will come.
Surely, the Bambino Curse doesn’t affect UMass, does it? Babe Ruth didn’t even go to college so I don’t see why his curse should. Maybe UMass has its own curse; the Whitey Bulger Curse has a nice ring to it. The Cubs have the Billy Goat Curse; maybe we have the Billy Bulger Curse.
Skeptics will say there is no curse; it’s just a case of bad management. The state legislature doesn’t fund the University properly. Some say the Board of Trustees and President’s Office don’t do a good job advocating for the University at the State House. Previous chancellors mishandled funds when UMass had the money. Regardless, finger pointing won’t bring money into the Asian Languages Department and it won’t get a computer into Toyookasensei’s office, just like firing Grady Little – as satisfying as it may be – won’t put the Red Sox into the World Series this year.
Maybe the only thing preventing this year from being the year is something simple, yet difficult to pull together: teamwork. If Pedro cared more about his teammates than his ego, maybe he would have stepped aside and the Red Sox could have taken the series. Likewise, many of the problems at UMass, including riots and budget cuts could be more effectively addressed through teamwork and a more unified student body.
I’ve only lived in Massachusetts for a couple years. I don’t call water fountains “bubblers,” shopping carts “carriages” or hoagies “grinders.” My car is parked in Harvard yard comfortably with all “r’s” intact, and I still don’t listen to Aerosmith. Nonetheless, that old-fashioned perseverance that got the Pilgrims through their first New England winter and keeps Red Sox fans going in the face of adversity has officially infected me; like the rest of Massachusetts, I’m waiting for next year.
Rachel Smith is a Collegian columnist.
