Registration is a hassle.

It has been this way apparently since the dawn of historically black colleges.

Basic research of other HBCU newspapers' first issues this fall yielded the same result: registration is indeed a flawed process, but only for "us."

The Southern DIGEST has published ‘registration woe’ stories dating back to 1986.

Venicia Gray

At this rate, I believe roaches and financial aid problems will be the only things to survive nuclear explosions.

After several weeks of playing the guessing game with a post date of my fees, I decided to bite the bullet and go over to the financial aid office, instead of leaving my tuition to the powers that be.

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Not only was I told at 11 o’clock that I would have to sign a list to ask a question, but I would also have to go to another building to wait for—wait for it—another line, this time in the actual financial building, to inquire when my refund would be posted.  After being commanded to wait in a line to ask one of the two male and female officers a basic question, I was then told that I would be unable to be helped today.

Admittedly, I was perturbed, and asked whom I could speak to regarding a question of simple date inputs. I didn’t want the formula to the cure for cancer. I didn’t want to find a modicum of truth in a Sarah Palin speech.

I just wanted to ask a general question. Mr. Police Officer Man, in his ‘POLICE’ t-shirt, and increasingly annoying tone said, “You’ll have to wait in line for that too—tomorrow.”

Southern, dear Southern, I am unsure of how many more letters, blogs, rants, diary entries, compositions, S.O.S smoke signals, editorials, or hate mail has to be written to get this task taken care of.

At this point, as I enter the second month in my last fall semester as an undergraduate, I don’t care.

Again, for those in the back: I don’t care.

Why? Because nothing will change. Maybe next year the wait will be down to six hours. Maybe some genius will hire enough adequate staff to help the needs of the students.

Perhaps this comes off as a rant against the offices that primarily deal with registration, admissions or financial aid, but it isn’t. I’ve run out of optimism. I’ve run out of ways to make a positive from a negative. At this point, I’ve even run out of synonyms or adjectives that can appropriately describe the lackluster energy I have for financial aid, and its backwards process.  

I don’t care.

What I would like, and what several students I have spoken to would like—is a basic answer. An answer that we’re sure will take some thinking. Where’s our money?

Venicia Gray writes for the Southern Digest, the Southern University student newspaper, which originally published a version of this article on Sept. 13.

Articles in the Voices section represent the opinions of the individual writers and do not reflect the views of Black College Wire.