Throughout the March 4 local action protest, I found myself running around in the wake of the march to ask bystanders why they weren’t joining in the march. Many people had legitimate reasons (one interviewee was preparing to move to New Zealand, some had vital midterms to attend), but the predominant response was a blank stare or a surreptitious attempt to escape from the hot seat. For good reason – many people’s justifications for frowning at the passers by weren’t dissent or disagreement. Rather, they consisted primarily of my three least favorite words: “Eh, too lazy”.

First of all, not going to a march due to ‘laziness’ is not an excuse. Those who care about their education are obligated to come up with some reason not to go that won’t make them duck their heads in shame if I confront them.

The idea of a “walk-out” is that students walk out of their classes. Students at UC Santa Cruz barred staff from entering campus, effectively causing a day off for everyone and making a very clear statement. At UCLA, students occupied the chancellor’s building, demanding a meeting. Midterms that cannot be made up or grades that are on the brink of slipping into oblivion are concerns I can sympathize with, but class as usual is not, especially from those who will walk out of their classes at the beck and call of their growling bellies.

It seemed a little petty for students to feel offended by the immensely disturbing 35 students who came to cheer and yell into megaphones outside their classrooms for all of two minutes. Protests, by nature, are loud and obtrusive, and five minutes out of fifty on a day of nationwide action seems relatively little to ask of pious attendees of their classes. Disruption of the status quo is organized to get people to look up and focus on the world outside of the 3-inch radius from their noses that their math papers reside in.

To be honest, I expected apathy. I expected people to show fake enthusiasm and smile and wave as the protestors passed, then go their ways. What I did not expect was open hostility, like the kind the marchers encountered outside one classroom, where an incensed student attempted to yank the door shut on a protestor standing in the doorway. Being a killjoy or a conscious dissenter with an awareness of the issue at hand is one thing. Neglecting basic human decency and courtesy is another, and something I can’t get over.

For those of us who are not in financial difficulties, the budget increases might not seem like a problem because, as one onlooker said, “You don’t have to go to school if you don’t want to.” Well, no, you don’t. But my money and a thousand other protestors say that quite a lot of people in fact do want to go to school so that they don’t have to run home and live with Mom and Dad until they’re thirty-five. Or, you know, so they can get a career because they’re crippled and can’t make a living off what they used to do. Or get an education so that they can support their child. Or something.

Clearly there are people on campus who refuse to involve themselves in politics. But another thing stands between our community and full support for student activism: insufficient communication between organizers and subcultures on campus. The local action included flyers and signs translated into Spanish, and some of the speakers at the teach-in were Spanish speaking, which was an important step toward including ESL students of Latino background. But what about ESL students of Asian heritage? Chinese, Korean, Japanese and other Eastern languages are widespread on campus, but were not represented in efforts to promote the Day of Action.

Democracy comes with responsibility. As individuals, it is our responsibility to, at the very least, know how we feel about a political issue, if not take personal action to voice that opinion. As a community, it is our responsibility to reach out not only to those who are familiar to us, but to those who are willing to reach out in return.