^AYou're the President of this entire University, yet you have let student life rot away, squandered their few spatial and political resources, failed to keep the University at an even vaguely comparative level of technology use, and driven the student standard of living so low that people use the student center to study. But what makes today different is that now, you care.

 You spend several hours on a bench between the library and Bullock Hall, thinking. Trying to remember what college is supposed to be like. Trying to figure out if there is some pattern to the millions of little incompetencies, incoherences, idiocies, and problems experienced daily by students on this campus. Trying to find a key to unlock the disenfranchisement the students suffer under, the one that prevents their voices being heard in the decisions that effect their lives the most: housing, the UC, accounting, food service. The list goes on. You're depressed and frustrated.

 There's a million things to change: everything from Career Services to the University Judicial Board, from Media Services to the Bookstore. Where to change first? And what will guarantee things don't return to status quo?

 Eventually, you realize only one thing will really fix the school: reconceiving the entire university from the student experience outward. And then replacing every employee who can't deal with a students-first perspective. You can't escape the financial nature of higher education, but if this school is going to be run like a business, then students deserve to be treated like customers.

 For once, you feel focused and calm. You only regret that it took what it did to open your eyes. You take off your tie and head home.

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