Opinion

Imaginary friends

Mark Sloan died last week. This name may mean nothing to some people, but to every "Grey's Anatomy" fan, Dr. McSteamy will always be remembered as the sexiest, cockiest, best plastic surgeon that's ever existed. He may be just a character on a TV show, but when the years of his life flashed across the screen at the end of the episode, I felt like I was at a funeral reading his tombstone. I cried alone in my dorm room about the death of a fictional character. Sad, I know. But he was more than a fictional character to me. He was the man who always had a witty comment to make me laugh on any given Thursday, the man who taught me that we all make mistakes, yet some people suffer worse consequences, the man who was enthralled by Lexie Grey, but didn't admit it until it was too late. It made me wonder - is it right that I feel so much emotion for this person who isn't even real? When I read stories about shootings in Chicago or the war in Iraq, of course I think it's sad and horrible, but it doesn't really faze me. I've become desensitized to it. I have this numbness toward the tragedy in our world because it happens so much. It's like if you put a frog in boiling water, it hops out immediately. But if you put it in room-temperature water and slowly heat it up, the frog will die because it won't know to jump out. That's how I've become unaffected by all of the injustices in our world - because the temperature has been rising slowly, I'm unable to jump out, unable to be shocked by any of it. But witnessing Mark Sloan's death was like putting the frog in boiling water for me. The sadness hit me right away because he was suddenly gone. That's shocking and sad and hard to deal with. But then why aren't the injustices in our world as shocking and sad and hard to deal with? It could be because they're far away from us. Characters are close, they're relatable. But these problems in our world, they're distant and maybe too much to handle. It's like when someone is seriously injured and blacks out because the brain can't deal with the pain. There's too much to deal with, so the brain doesn't deal with any of it. It's in shock. Dealing with problems in smaller doses is easier. Setting up one food pantry or one good school is more doable than solving world hunger or bringing good education to poor areas. Curing a disease on a case-by-case basis is easier than eliminating it completely. If you look at the big picture, things may seem hopeless - but if you zoom in, a solution seems possible. That's what fictional TV show characters do for us. They take general problems and make them specific. That single figure represents many problems from reality, but they're relatable, sympathetic, loveable. And they make us love them. They welcome us into their lives for a fleeting moment once a week, and in those moments we come to love them for the lessons they teach us. They teach us about love and heartbreak, life and death. I swear I've learned more than half of my life lessons from "Grey's Anatomy" (specifically from Meredith's monologues). We live vicariously through these characters, because they represent real problems that we face every day, though on a greater and more exaggerated scale. So, these characters affect us, we feel like we know them. No wonder we're sad when they leave us. They're our friends - which isn't necessarily a bad thing, just a little strange. For instance, it's strange to me that watching "Grey's" while doing my chemistry homework gives me extra motivation to keep studying science or pre-med or whatever I choose. It's almost like these doctors are my role models, but they're not even real. Sometimes I think I could better invest my time in reality, in real relationships, in crying for the tragedies in our world instead of crying for Mark Sloan's death. Then again, maybe not. I'm still learning lessons and feeling human emotions. So what if it is a fictional TV character who brings them out? At least I feel something. If only this empathy could be extended to more people in real life. I think it could, though, if I find a cause that makes me love it just as much as Mark Sloan made me love him. That would be the best of both worlds. Bridget Galassini is a freshman. She can be reached at bgalassi@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

Everyone loves St. Francis

Everyone loves St. Francis. When I mentioned his feast day on Facebook, Catholic and non-religious friends alike gave the thumbs-up. The dining halls baked cakes. There was a special Mass in the Basilica. Besides being struck by the irony of the vanilla lambs, I sometimes worry that we romanticize Francis too much. When a million movements claim him as their poster-boy, when we anchor statues of him in our gardens and imagine him dancing barefoot in the sun with the birds, we risk missing the point of what was really radical about him. When St. Francis was about our age, he was coasting through life. He had it made. And then one day, while he was selling velvet in a crowded marketplace - as he'd done dozens of times before - he noticed a beggar sitting in the corner, ignored by every single person passing by.   We all know the rest of the story: how Francis chased after the beggar, how he exchanged clothes with him and later denounced his father's inheritance. That is awesome. But let's rewind a bit. The very first radical thing that Francis did, before he founded an order, cared for lepers, negotiated with a Sultan or whatever, was to see that man in the marketplace, to really see him, for the first time. How many times had he sat there before, unnoticed amidst all the hustle-and-bustle? Francis may have been the very first person to see him for who he really was: not a beggar, but a man and a brother. The next radical thing that Francis did was to run after him. Francis was a lot like many of us: 20-something, well-off and well-educated. For him, there was no lightning from the sky or intellectual "aha!" moment. He just opened his eyes to what was smack-dab in front of him all along. Not all of us can go to Appalachia for fall break, or make it to a soup kitchen every week. Some of us may always live and work in environments like that marketplace - Notre Dame is certainly one. But the example of St. Francis challenges us to not use our circumstances as an excuse for not reaching out to others. He challenges us to look more closely for those who are poor and tired around us - a friend going through a rough time, a worn-out housekeeper, a dorm-mate sitting alone in the dining hall - and to go out of our way not only to acknowledge them, but to love them. In those little moments, we might become saints. Take a look around!    Christina Mondi is a junior with a major in psychology and a minor in Catholic Social Tradition and Science, Technology, and Values. She can be reached at cmondi@nd.edu     The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

Reevaluate the Shamrock Series

When Notre Dame and Miami face off in Chicago on Saturday, it will mark the fourth installment in the highly successful Shamrock Series, the University's annual off-site home football game. The series promotes the Notre Dame brand and has brought the Irish to San Antonio, New York and the Washington, D.C. area prior to this year's tilt in Chicago. The University has done an admirable job promoting Notre Dame and consistently finds new heights on which to elevate its imprint. But, this time, it has found a new low. Three weeks ago, Notre Dame students received an email telling them only 288 tickets would be made available to the student body for this year's contest. That's 288 tickets for an undergraduate population of more than 8,000 students. For a home game. In Chicago. Soldier Field is 94 miles from the Notre Dame campus. Alumni, as usual, will travel in droves to see the gold (and, this week, blue) helmets shimmering under the lights in what is sure to be a Notre Dame celebration that spans the entire weekend. But only 3.6 percent of the students were invited to the party. One of the unique aspects of the Shamrock Series is its inclusion of academic and other non-football activities that the University puts on during the annual event. This year's docket includes a pep rally at Millennium Park, drummers' circle and several academic lectures. When the Shamrock Series was in other parts of the country, a lack of student tickets was understandable. But this year is different. Even students without a car on campus could have easily made the trip by bus or train and taken part in a spectacular atmosphere at one of America's iconic venues. Saturday was a day Notre Dame students - many of whom are from Chicago - have had circled on their calendar for quite a while. The Notre Dame-Chicago connection is a special one, and that's due in large part to the lofty number of students from the area. This week, Irish players who grew up in the Windy City have described what this weekend means to them as Bears fans, Chicago residents and Notre Dame student-athletes. It's an experience they will cherish far after their playing careers are finished, but that opportunity has mostly been withheld from students. Once the University announced the ticket allotment for this game, many Chicago-based students decided to go home for the weekend, even without a ticket after being forced to reevaluate their plans. The University's decision led many other students to look for tickets through outside sources, such as StubHub, for greater than the $125 price it offered students, an amount costing about half as much as the home season ticket booklet. Maybe it's time to reevaluate what the Shamrock Series is all about. If Notre Dame is trying to promote its brand and celebrate its academic and athletic brands, how can it properly do so a couple hours from campus with only a 288-student allotment? This is a college football program. We are the college students who can bring our voices and our spirit to support a team of our classmates and peers. Anyone who's ever been to a Notre Dame home game knows the student section is the pulse of the Stadium. Now, despite a golden opportunity, the Shamrock Series will feel like a home game in name only. Maybe the decision was made to maximize a profit. Maybe the decision was made to appease as much of the alumni base as possible. Maybe the decision was made to keep as many students in South Bend as possible the weekend before midterms. The University at least owes the student body an explanation for this disappointment. An integral part of the home football experience is the student body - and most of us will be missing when Notre Dame and Miami revive a once-intense rivalry this weekend, less than 100 miles from campus. 

My day with JFK

Fifty years ago next Saturday, on October 13, 1962, President John F. Kennedy campaigned for Democratic candidates throughout Southwestern Pennsylvania. One of his stops, at my county courthouse, was located just a few miles from my home. With such a rare opportunity before us, naturally my father - an elementary school principal, first generation Italian-American, Catholic, World War II veteran educated through the GI Bill - dragged me to see the president. As an 11-year-old sixth grader, I was more interested in football on that sunny Saturday morning. However, little could I imagine at morning's start that I would ultimately be three feet from the president who spoke to me.  Kennedy's election was an important political milestone victory for Catholics, a time that also exposed me to my first experience of religious discrimination. Growing up, I heard my father share his stories of hostile heritage and religious hatred hurled at him in school and against my Italian immigrant grandparents in the workplace. While in fourth grade, during the Kennedy-Nixon campaign, my best friend - from a Protestant family - spewed nasty slurs at me he had heard from his parents about "those Catholics" like Kennedy and me. So I understood why my father dearly admired Kennedy who broke the political barriers for Catholics similarly to how Barack Obama shattered one for African-Americans in 2008.  Stepping back a half-century ago, our nation faced chaotic and challenging times that tugged the president's attention from one huge event to another at lightening speed. Amidst the pressures of the Oval Office that October weekend, Kennedy focused on the off-term election cycle when an incumbent president's party usually loses seats in Congress. Thus, Kennedy campaigned against congressional Republicans who were obstructing his legislative agenda.  When Kennedy spoke to us, he was wrestling behind the scenes with an international crisis trying to thwart the Soviet Union's installation of nuclear missiles in Cuba. On the home front, the president dealt with civil rights discrimination, specifically James Meredith's attempt to break the all-white discrimination that barred him from enrolling at the University of Mississippi. Kennedy mobilized federal forces by sending 170 marshals to escort Meredith to class. But on that October Saturday, I was concerned more about football.  Mid-morning we staked out a spot on the sidewalk and stood for two hours before the motorcade approached. My mind wondered but dismissed the possibility of snipers hiding under a porch with a latched wooden fence. It seemed like forever before the motorcade arrived and surprised me. As a boy, automobiles played a huge role in my life. So, I was shocked to see President Kennedy sitting on the trunk of a tan Chevrolet Impala convertible with his feet on the back seat. Where was that big black limousine I had seen on television? Yet within a minute, he passed. He had gone so quickly - in an Impala.  We tried to walk a block closer to where the president spoke on the courthouse steps. However, throngs of people clogged the streets, so we only heard half of his speech through the roaring cheers and blurred sound system. After speaking, Kennedy attended a luncheon at a hotel, so naturally much of the crowd went home. But my father led me to the alley behind the hotel where we again stood for another hour. Finally, the president mounted onto the Impala's trunk near us.  We leaned on a fence an arms-length from the president. Kennedy's rich chestnut auburn-colored hair moved in the wind. He nodded in recognition when my father said, "Hi Jack!" Then the president said to me, "Hello son," as his car began to roll towards the street. He waved at me first, then to the people at the end of the alley. As quickly as he arrived, he was gone.  Looking back on my day with President Kennedy - beyond my sore feet, sniper fantasies and the surprising Impala convertible - I note his message countering the Republican Party for acting as obstructionists against Kennedy's agenda. Ironically, it is not unlike today's campaign when he said, "As it has shown for 30 years, that every time we try to do something for jobs, and for security, and for education, the Republicans vote 'no,' the Democrats vote 'yes.'"  Kennedy continued, "We lost the medical care for the aged, as we lost the department of urban affairs, as we almost lost minimum wage, as we lost supplemental unemployment compensation, as we lost our agricultural bill, as we lost our higher education bill. Will you tell me what they are for?"  Kennedy concluded, "And I am proud to stand here, although I am not a candidate for office, and in all good faith ask you to give us some people who in 1963 and '64 will build a strong America upon which the world depends."  My day with JFK may sound like today, but it still seems like yesterday.

Boxing out of a rut

None of my friends could keep a straight face when I mentioned in August that I was joining the boxing team. Between the smirks and incredulous laughter, I heard everything from "You're the least aggressive person ever," to "I thought you hated working out," to "I really don't think you could actually punch someone like that, if you had to." After hearing "Wait, are you serious?" a dozen times, changing my mind really wasn't an option anymore - at that point, the only way to avoid a year of jokes and offhand comments about being a wanna-be boxer was to become an actual boxer. None of my previous athletic pursuits prepared me for this experience - I was an average member of my high school tennis team and a well below-average swimmer for one season. If I felt particularly motivated, I might take on the occasional fifteen-minute mile and call it quits at the three-quarter mark. I knew this, but at the same time I'd been pretty bored with the current state of the union and I wanted to do something uncharacteristic and unexpected. Team rules hold that members have to attend four practices a week to fight in the Baraka Bouts in November, and it's fair to say that the first week or two absolutely destroyed me. The only way to distract myself from the misery of those first runs was to spend the time brainstorming escape routes or excuses to quit the team altogether. I couldn't bring myself to do much more than get through it and then sleep as hard as I could. Each practice is challenging, enough to keep me questioning why I got into this to begin with, but that's exactly what I was hoping for. I didn't join the team so my friends would think I was tougher and realize they'd underestimated me, and it had nothing to do with some hidden desire to punch people. I don't aspire to go pro after my Notre Dame career, and while I am proud to say that the money we raise will help the people of Uganda, that wasn't it either. I joined because I needed to get out of a rut, to shake up the way my life was going and see what else I had to learn about myself. I needed to know that I could ask that much of myself and then pay upfront, even if the price tags on those first miles were alarmingly high. I like myself much better if I'm a person who boxes after class instead of taking a nap; I needed to learn to fight every now and then, as long as I chose my battles wisely. Each day I feel my body getting stronger around me, and if nothing else, I'm glad I can go to bed each night knowing I'm better off in some way than I was when I woke up that morning.

The perks of being a superfan

The other day, I was running around the lakes, the sun glinting off the water, the first fallen leaves of autumn crunching beneath my feet and "Gangnam Style" pounding in my ears, when I approached a man running towards me from the opposite direction.  

Love and the Holy Trinity

How many times a week do we make the Sign of the Cross, with its somewhat absurd claim that our one God is three persons? Perhaps we have made it in the dining hall before a meal, or in bed during prayer before falling asleep. What's the significance? Does it really matter, right there in the dining hall, in your dorm room or apartment, that we affirm God as three persons, as a Trinity, rather than as, well, just "God?"

Fall ball

I often flip-flop on my favorite season, but fall is a front-runner.

CSC Pledge for Virtuous Discourse

Every year the Center for Social Concerns (CSC) centers its events around a theme; this year's revolves around a document called "Pacem in Terris," written 50 years ago by Pope John XXIII. In it, Pope John encourages respectful relationships between people, societies and nations as well as the utilization of one's talents to add to the greater good of society.

It's not 'Harry Potter'

Finish your veggies

The happy chronicles

We're still waiting

To Whom It May Concern at SAO,

Career baby steps

I have many students who come into my office with a sense of panic wondering what they are going to do after college and if they are truly expected to know exactly what they want to do for the rest of their lives. While there is not always a definitive answer to these questions, we are here to help guide you through some of those tough questions and help you to understand your skills, personality, values and strengths and how they can translate to success upon graduation from Notre Dame.

Virtual birthdays and gifts seldom given

Birthdays are the quintessential unit of social interaction on Facebook. From the beginning of Facebook time, birthdays have been prominently displayed, and ever since it's practically been law that you respect the birthday and always pay your dues. In a way, it's the most basic form of virtual commerce on the site. Whenever a birthday rolls around, we essentially throw our hands up in the air and think, I don't really know this person, but I appreciate him letting me look at his photos and friends and statuses - essentially peer into the fabric of his social identity - so I should probably wish them a happy birthday so I can keep looking at his photos and friends and statuses for the next year.

Wind Down Wednesday

As fall break appears on the horizon, many of you are probably starting to feel the pressure of upcoming midterms and projects. And as you all know, being stressed out about school work can be detrimental to your health and happiness. Since we're not likely to be able to skip our midterms or projects, PILLARS would like to help you reduce your stress level during these next few challenging weeks.

A salute to campus icons

Over my last four years there have been people whom I have either come to know either by name or from their campus reputations. This is a salute to those special individuals with their awesome personalities, extreme good looks or quirky habits. Thank you for making our campus a unique place.

Here's to you, Mr. Meredith

Legal racial segregation is a concept few Americans can comprehend. The idea of it just seems so unimaginable - so incomprehensible - that even the thought of a law prohibiting a black student from attending a state-funded university seems absurd. Facing rioters of students and segregationists, James Meredith broke this barrier by becoming the first black student to enroll at the University of Mississippi on October 1, 1962. As Ole Miss commemorates the 50th anniversary of this monumental occasion, it is imperative for students at every university to understand Meredith's courageous actions and their application in the world today. We often take for granted the freedoms we are born with - the freedom to vote, to attend a public school, to apply to any university of our choice. For Meredith, these rights were mere dreams. Despite apprehension from family members, hatred from former Mississippi governor Ross Barnett and racially charged signs and expletives shouted at him by fellow students - despite all this, Meredith walked to class. He walked with aide from the Army's military police, United States Border Patrol and Mississippi National Guard. He walked for Ruby Bridges, the Little Rock Nine and the millions more who shared a young Atlanta preacher's dream. Above all, Meredith walked for us - college students of the 21st century who converse, eat and study with peers of all races. Now 79 years old and living happily in Jackson, Miss., how would Meredith react if he visited Our Lady's University? Ole Miss chancellor Dan Jones stated: "On the anniversary of such an important event, it is important to express regret for past injustices, recommit to open doors of opportunity for all, regardless of race or ethnicity, celebrate the progress achieved together and acknowledge that we still live in an imperfect world and must continue to seek to rid ourselves and the world of injustice." On this historic day, remember the cardinal role James Meredith played in the higher education landscape. Celebrate our accomplishments in the quest for equal education - but recognize the long road we still have to travel. Meredith coined his first walk to class at the Oxford magnolia tree-line campus as a "walk against fear." So 50 years later, here's to you, Mr. Meredith. Let us continue this walk in your honor. Contact Adam Llorens at allorens@nd.edu The views expressed in the Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.  

SIBC collaborates with Peking University

The SIBC-GVI Global Business Forum, established in summer 2011, is a joint partnership between the Notre Dame Student International Business Council (SIBC) and Peking University Global View Initiative (GVI). Its purpose is to develop a long-term relationship between Notre Dame and top universities in Asia through annual exchange trips where student representatives from both universities work on various business projects for major corporations. This past January, a group of eleven students from Peking University visited Notre Dame as the first stop during their annual trip to top U.S. universities and major corporations. Thirteen SIBC delegates were selected to participate in this three-day Business Forum, where the SIBC and GVI delegates were divided into three groups to work on a consulting project for Dow Chemical. The project focused on analyzing the impacts of the growth of the aging population in the U.S. and the growth of the middle class in China on the hygiene and medical industry, examining similarities and differences between the U.S. and Chinese markets and exploring potential opportunities for a plastics producer like Dow Chemical. The SIBC is now organizing its first trip to Beijing, China during fall break. Twelve students, led by Monica Laidig, the advisor of SIBC, are flying to Beijing for a similar business forum hosted by the Peking University. The program mainly includes a business case competition, which provides Notre Dame students with a precious opportunity to develop a profound understanding of the global business environment and the Chinese business culture. The case that the students will be working on will cover both the U.S. and China market to ensure that students from different backgrounds can bring their knowledge together to present the final case. This time, we will be focusing on the automobile industry in China and its drive for more environmentally-friendly vehicles. Notre Dame students were responsible for analyzing major auto companies, specifically Toyota, GM and BMW. Students researched the overall auto market in Japan, the U.S. and Germany, and then conducted wide range of company-specific analyses. Delegates analyzed overall company performances, how they have been recovering since the financial crisis of 2008, major changes each company is launching, and overall strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats each company faces moving forward. After understanding more about the major players in the global auto market, delegates analyzed the new energy vehicle market and the similarities and differences among the U.S., Japan, Germany and China in terms of energy-efficient vehicle strategies. Lastly, Notre Dame students researched the obstacles that stand in the way of America's green car initiative, while Peking University students researched the obstacles in China's own green car development. Delegates analyzed the obstacles from the perspectives of consumers, government regulations and competitors then explored solutions to overcome these problems. Given this comprehensive background research, students will be better prepared to work through the final case question that will be given during the trip to China, while setting students from both universities on a level playing field to work up from. The huge shift in demand and supply of auto parts and vehicles in China offers a wonderful opportunity for Notre Dame students to understand this global shift in a more in-depth and meaningful way. In addition to the case study, the trip consists of various activities including company visits, academic communication and cultural immersion. Students will be traveling to both global companies like BMW and Chinese companies like China International Capital Corporation Limited, whose professionals will give presentations on their operations in the Chinese market as well as share their expertise in the commercial relationship between the U.S. and China. Peking University is recognized for its prestige in academic research as well as internationalization. During the trip there will be at least one lecture on historical and modern China offered by a PKU professor, and the delegates may also be able to audit a few regular classes on PKU campus, where they can get some exposure to the academic life at a top Chinese university and communicate with professors and students in and outside class. The program also includes cultural excursions to China's famous historical sites, such as the Great Wall and the Forbidden City. In addition, GVI will host multiple cultural immersion activities like traditional Chinese food making. Students can learn about Chinese culture and experience the cultural diversity through these events. The SIBC-GVI Global Business Forum is a special opportunity for Notre Dame students to develop a global view of the business world, explore Asian cultures and improve their leadership and communication skills through extensive interactions with Chinese students and companies. Both SIBC and GVI are striving to continue developing and expanding this exchange program year by year. The SIBC is the largest student-run organization on campus with over 400 active members. We seek to promote "Peace through Commerce" by partnering with leading companies across all areas of business and providing international internships for our members. We can be reached at sibc@nd.edu or at sibc.nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The importance of teachers

When I was a freshman in high school, my history teacher shared a story in class about a person who was interviewing for a teaching position. Instead of providing her actual credentials, the interviewee lied and said that she attended Harvard and used her friends to pretend to be Harvard admissions officials and other references. Without hesitation, I blurted out, "Why would you become a teacher if you went to Harvard?" This was a rude comment for many reasons, none more so than the fact that the teacher telling this story went to Yale. Unfortunately, my reaction is one that most Americans share. Our society guides the best and brightest into highly-respected fields like finance, law and medicine, while looking down on those who enter education. Moreover, it is perceived that students who go to top schools are above the teaching profession and that those who become teachers would not be able to succeed anywhere else. As the saying goes, "Those who can, do, those who can't, teach."   Even though teachers may have a low status in society, there is no doubt of their importance. Stanford economist Erik Hanushek, America's most respected education expert, has found that a teacher in the 90th percentile of quality can increase the income of a class of 30 students by roughly $750,000 over a lifetime, relative to a teacher in the 60th percentile of quality. Even though a strong economic case can be made for recruiting more talented people into education, only 23 percent of America's teachers graduate in the top third of their college class, while the best performing countries such as Finland, South Korea and Singapore recruit virtually 100 percent of their teachers from the top third of their college class.     Turning the teaching profession into a highly-respected profession will mean tearing down what former New York City schools chancellor Joel Klein calls the "three pillars of mediocrity." The first pillar is "lock-step pay," where teachers are paid based on the number of years they have taught and the degrees they hold instead of on their performance and the subject they teach. This effectively creates such low pay for entry-level teachers that many are dissuaded from the education profession and also fails to compensate teachers with highly sought-after backgrounds in science and math. The second pillar is "tenure," the rule in American education that makes it logistically impossible to fire a teacher for merit, usually after four years of service. This provision keeps ineffective teachers in classrooms and makes it harder for younger teachers to enter the profession. Tenure eliminates incentives for teachers to maintain high performance and creates professional complacency.    The final pillar is "seniority," the rule that teachers who are the last hired are the first fired, even though research shows seniority is not a factor in teaching effectiveness after five years. As states have been forced to balance their budgets, many young teachers have been laid off without any regard to their effectiveness.    If these three pillars can be replaced with a more flexible labor market that pays high salaries to effective teachers, while working to push out poor and mediocre performers, slowly, the profession will become more respected. It will begin to draw a superior talent pool, allowing American education to evolve from a national disgrace to an institution that can turn around what is seemingly a nation in decline. Many critics of these reforms, known as "traditionalists," usually point to a million factors to improve education rather than teacher effectiveness, most notably poverty. The argument goes: "Eliminate poverty through government aid and education will improve." This is often used as an excuse for the failure of American education. While welfare programs do have an important role in our society, we know that they are more geared towards redistributing wealth than creating it. A quality education, on the other hand, can give people the skills and knowledge necessary so that they are less dependent on government, something both Democrats and Republicans want to see. As the saying goes: "Give a man a fish, and you will feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you will feed him for a lifetime."   There are perhaps few professions more important in our society than teaching. But as long as the three pillars of mediocrity exist, American education will never allow America to live up to its full potential. If we can break the three pillars of mediocrity, eventually high school students won't question why someone would attend Harvard to become a teacher - they will declare openly that they want to go to Harvard so they can become one. Adam Newman is a senior political science major. He can be reached at anewman3@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.