President Hennessy,

Stanford is defined by many things. The size of our campus, our leisurely (cynics call it bored) strain of NorCal living, the tragic majesty of our football program, the whole Little Leland thing. But the first thing you notice is the bicycles. Nearly any information pamphlet, NSO booklet, college guide and Facebook photo album has one spin on the iconic image: a student biking through the arcades of the quad, maybe etched in silhouette against the Oval or Mem Chu. You can smell the flowers, feel the warm afternoon sunlight and see Hoover Tower rising in the background. It’s goddamn poetry.

I understand that in creating this ban you think that you are trying to stop bicycle accidents. I admire you, or whoever conceived this idea, for doing what you or they feel is best for the students. The Bike Ban is an exceedingly reasonable proposition. After all, where is the harm? Students will need to wake up a few minutes earlier? Walk their bikes those last few inches to class?

But just because something is safer and reasonable does not mean it is good or just. I do not wear a helmet when I ride a bike because, on some strange adolescent level, I just like how the wind feels flowing through my hair. In an accident, I would be 100 percent less likely to die if I wore a helmet. It’s a risk we take.

I realize that this email may seem silly, since the ban only applies to the breezeway arcades of the Quad. The total loss to our on-campus biking area is perhaps .004 percent. This is only a small matter. We will all adapt. My brother, a freshly minted law student (and the fourth Franich at Stanford, after my great uncle, my father and myself) ponders why I care so much. Universities are corporations. Bicycle accidents can lead to lawsuits in our debased, litigious modern age. It makes good business sense.

To hell with all that. In my years here, I have borne witness to a disturbing administrative trend. I do not think the administration is listening to the students anymore. I do not think the administration understands the students anymore. And I worry that the administration does not care to understand.

To me, the problems began with the 2004 football game against Brigham Young University. The Band had one of their all-too-rare brilliant halftime shows. The Dollies all wore wedding dresses, and the announcer made a point of praising the sacred bond “between man and woman... and woman.. and woman...” The stuttering was a jab at our opponent’s Church-founding namesake, who was not exactly a monogamist.

You would think the Band had burnt Moses, Jesus, Mohammed and Abe Lincoln in effigy from the horrified national response. To this day, local publications like The San Jose Mercury News still bring up the incident as yet another sign of the entitled, immoral prickness of the Band. Yet what gets me is that the administration did everything they could to cut the Band loose. No one stood behind them. I refer you to an issue of the Stanford Daily, dated September 28, 2004:

“Athletic Department officials said they were under the impression the word “woman” should have been partially stuttered as “wo-” in the sentence, whereas Band officials maintained that they thought it was clear the scripted stutter would involve repeating the whole phrase “and woman” over and over again.”

The bureaucratic nattering on display is positively Orwellian. Which syllable of which word was going to be stuttered! The Band is supposed to be controversial, and although I understand the University not condoning their actions, why couldn’t the Athletic Department say something like “We do not feel this way, but the Band is the Band and our students are our students.”

I do not want to bore you with comparisons to other schools, but Dartmouth has for many years now had a kind of don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy regarding the popular, nationally famous, quite unofficial mascot named Keggy the Keg, whose name is rather self-explanatory. The students love Keggy, many of the alumni love Keggy and although the University can certainly not admit it (because it would not look good for an educational body to encourage excessive drinking), they probably love Keggy, too.

Meanwhile, our Tree has been sorely mistreated. At last year’s Women’s NCAA tournament, he was ejected from the game for, I believe, “dancing in a no-dance zone.” Horrors! It’s just like in “Footloose!” Worse, our own Athletic Department then removed him from the rest of the tournament. President Hennessy, the Tree was my favorite part of coming to Stanford games when I was a kid. When did undergraduates become an embarrassment?

I do not pretend to understand the circumstances which have led your administration to this point. I do not know who is on the board of directors or the board of trustees. I do not know if several wealthy investors have explicitly stated they want the Tree, the Band and any semblance of fun and eccentricity removed from this campus or else no new Law School dorm — nor do I believe such a thing.

I do not even know if you were behind any of these decisions, if you fought against them or for them or not at all. I do not know how our University works. I would be idiotic to pretend to understand the difficulties you face governing this school. All I know is that I am angry and desperately want things to change. Like many other students, I am confused that you and your fellow administrators, the people I once trusted most to look out for Stanford’s well-being, seem to be doing nothing.

In a few years, no one will be around to recall that Full Moon wasn’t always an Absolute Fun event, that Band Run used to end with collective exultation in the Quad, and not drowsily, with speeches, in the Stadium. The administration doesn’t need to worry much, because the annoying new rules of today are the traditions of tomorrow. The house always wins, especially when they can respond to any complaints with reasonable arguments. “We give you a world-class education and an absurdly beautiful campus; our name will get you well-paying jobs and wallet-chasing lovelies; what’s a little bike restriction, next to that?” After all, it’s just a teensy weensy little bike ban, right?

Absolutely not. The Bike Ban is wrong. This university took the boy I was three years ago and made me the man I am today. It has done everything for me. And I would be doing it a supreme disservice if I did not speak my mind: I am angry, and I feel betrayed.

In summation, kindly revoke this well-intentioned — but nevertheless horrific — miscarriage of our natural rights immediately. Re-open the arcades of the Quad to bicycles, or you will receive several thousands of these e-mails. This is not an empty threat. I am a member of the press and therefore control what people think. There are several hundreds of other undergraduates who feel exactly as I do. Can’t we just get along?

I have the utmost respect for you and for the people who work with you, which is why I trust this letter will be read not as a criticism, but as an exhortation. Stanford has been great. It will be great again. It is up to you to make that happen.

Cordially,

Darren Franich

Darren Franich is mad as hell and wants to piss off some very important people. E-mail him at dfranich@stanford.edu if you want to join in the fun. Or just join in the fun and e-mail president@stanford.edu once or twice a day. Crush the system using passive-aggressive e-mails!