To the DU community,
The first time I realized the danger posed by DU’s amnesty policy was during O-Week of my freshman year. The first nights of college were so exciting—I was finally out of the house, on my own. That night, a student from another floor in Towers invited me to a party—my first college party! The freshmen were essentially the only ones on campus, and we really felt like top dogs.
The party in Towers didn’t disappoint. There was alcohol galore, and there were plenty of new faces coming in and out. We were making plenty of noise, enough that I felt that I shouldn’t be drinking, just in case. Of course, we all knew that we could be written up for this party but the force of that Freshman sense of invincibility overpowered most of our concerns.
Just minutes before my exit from the party, though, we heard the sound that DU students are so well trained to avoid: three knocks on the door and the shouting of, “RA on Duty!”
A moment of panicked glances turned to resolve as we sprung into action; the scramble to hide the alcohol, the hushing of voices, the dumping of drinks and the sitting down of those too drunk to withstand scrutiny. The RAs came in and conducted a thorough search of the apartment. However, harsh rules create clever kids, and none of the supply was located. As the RAs left, they asked us to quiet down and be safe if we went out. Having avoided any consequences, the party continued, albeit quieter.
Fast forward a few hours, and I was kneeling in a bathroom next to the drunkest kid I had ever seen, a couple of others around me rapidly sobering up as the gravity of the situation had become clear. This guy’s life may well have been in danger and since I was sober, I was appointed unofficial EMT. At 18 years old, with no first aid training outside of the Boy Scouts, I felt responsible for this guy’s life. After several violent episodes of sickness, I reached for my phone, ready to take advantage of the “amnesty” policy I had heard about. Before I could do so, the phone was snatched from my hand.
“What are you doing, dude?” A panicked guy said, exasperated, “If you call the cops, or campo, we’ll get in trouble!”
This is the product of a student body crying out for an actual amnesty policy. In my time as both a freshman and on-campus senator, I have learned that my experience is not unique, it is shockingly common—I have heard similar stories from countless students. Clearly, students at DU could use help helping those who have drank too much, but under the current system, we are more likely to turn inward, relying on each other instead of properly trained professionals. So, why would someone reject the resources available? If we have an amnesty policy, why aren’t students using it to stay safe?
This is because DU’s amnesty policy isn’t an amnesty policy. It is a lie—a thinly veiled legal ruse that isn’t meant to protect student safety. It is meant, on a basal level, to protect the university from liability, from threatening lawsuits on the grounds of a failure to keep kids safe. It is used as a legal shield to hide behind and serves as a cudgel to use against students should they make a mistake more than once.
What the university is reluctant to acknowledge is the truth: a “strike” will follow you on your academic record, appearing when student rights and responsibilities calls a student for a hearing to confront policy violations. This punitive approach results in a system where trust is non-existent; where RAs aren’t peers but police and where campus safety isn’t a resource but a threat.
The Undergraduate Student Senate unanimously passed a resolution asking the administrative powers that be to reconsider the alcohol and amnesty policies that do more harm than good. I ran for on-campus senator to fight for student interests—that’s why I was proud to co-author and co-sponsor this resolution. It would do well for campus administrators to read it.
They should re-examine these policies and consider: are they in place to keep students safe or are they in place to maintain the university’s bottom line? They would do well to acknowledge the realities of student life and change for the better, acting to serve the safety of students first.
Sincerely,
Marshall D. Marrs, On-Campus Senator
