We all can learn from the lessons of the 1984 film “Footloose” – administrators included.
A few weeks ago, University of Massachusetts administrators pulled the plug on Fantazia. The other day, they did the same for two more electronic dance music concerts (Above & Beyond and Pretty Lights). Their press releases noted the recent spike in EDMC deaths – at least one due to pure MDMA and most others due to mislabeled knock-offs.
All sides can point to evidence to make their cases. For those in charge, the cancellations eliminate the potential for the presence of life-threatening drugs. For those in favor of drug regulation, the deaths confirm the need for properly controlled substances. For those in opposition to overreaching authority, these cancellations warn us of an administration overstepping its bounds.
And for those who prefer to shed light on situations with Technicolor 1980s musicals, this situation works wonders. We thus turn to the film “Footloose” to understand the frenzy of EDMC cancellations and the problem behind them: our administration’s habitual disregard for the student body’s voice.
In the movie, Kevin Bacon’s character moves to a small, conservative community in the Great Plains and soon undergoes a culture shock. As a teenager accustomed to nightly dances in Chicago, Bacon’s character jumps for dismay when he learns that his new town prohibits rock music and dance. He then aims to fulfill his calling: to free his peers from the evil clutches of a restrictive government and, with the support of his rabble rouser peers, to fight for the right to dance.
After four teenagers die in a car crash, the antagonist, Reverend Moore, aims to crush the dangerous youth culture. Since a hysterical rock music boogie preceded the four deaths, Moore convinces town officials to crack down on dance culture. To our administrators, the tragic EDMC deaths stem from a “Molly-taking culture [that is] … exceedingly dangerous to the health and safety of concert attendees.” Both parties correctly identify legitimate health threats to their respective communities.
Yet in both cases, administrators react inappropriately to their respective threats. Reverend Moore’s ban presumes the guilt of all dancers, even the innocents. Moore ignores the opinions of townsfolk when he immediately pushes for and passes the ban after the car accident. His ban is reactionary and unsustainable: it does eliminate future post-dance car crashes, but only due to its excessively restrictive nature.
This summer, UMass administrators must have invited each other over to watch “Footloose.” They poured popcorn into their bowls, pressed the play button and took notes. Each diligently observed Reverend Moore’s conduct and, while discussing the film over s’mores and a campfire, agreed to follow the reverend’s lead. The result of this movie night follows: a reactionary prohibition of EDM concerts that presumes the guilt of each attendee and disregards the voices of UMass students.
Not once have administrators invited the student body to these movie nights. Since their discussions in early September, administrators have failed to engage the UMass community in a public forum or an open dialogue. Our administrators conduct their talks, reach their conclusions and publish their press releases behind closed doors. The message is clear: our opinions are uninvited.
Even when Student Government Association President Zac Broughton repeatedly voiced our opinions to administrators, our school leaders refused to collaborate.
Perhaps administrators rightfully cancelled these concerts and prevented a tragic string of Mullins Center deaths. Their reactionary measures, though unsustainable and ones that presume the guilt of all EDMC attendees, may have saved lives. The issue involves the process that administrators adopt when they discuss a campus issue. If the administration began its new UMatter @ UMass campaign primarily due to student feelings of disempowerment, then its recent EDMC cancellations only exacerbate the sentiment that our voices don’t matter. Sure, they cancelled these events with our safety in mind, but they failed to consider our input along the way.
This situation is not unique; it illustrates a systemic disregard for our voices. Read the Faculty Senate transcripts that you can find after a quick Internet search. When administrators discussed their concerns for student feelings of disempowerment, they initiated the UMatter @ UMass campaign with the best intentions. But in that instance too, they failed to explicitly invite students to the discussion.
I propose the creation of an informal advisory group. At my high school, something called the Principal’s Advisory Committee met each month to discuss campus concerns. After a senior mentioned a series of recent arrests, we produced a non-competitive basketball league. Hundreds of students (of about 2,000) signed up to play every Saturday night. Similar proactive initiatives changed the school culture and provided alternative weekend activities.
At these meetings, the principal sat at the committee table as our equal. She informed us of administrative concerns, we told her about the student body’s varied opinions, and respectful dialogue emerged. Our administrators could benefit from a similar initiative. They could hand-pick students representative of each demographic and invite our input into their decision-making processes.
Broughton’s recent letter to the student body assures us that, at the moment, we have at least one avenue to voice our dissent. Enamored with Pretty Lights? Let your SGA representatives know. Can’t stop dreaming of Above & Beyond performances? Tell Zac. Better yet, mention that you responsibly attend these concerts.
With enough rowdy Midwestern teenagers behind him, Kevin-Bacon-slash-Zac-Broughton can call for a forum or some form of dialogue. If most students demand another season of EDM concerts, then administrators should at least listen.
Brandon Sides is a Collegian columnist and can be reached at [email protected].