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Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 13, No. 9. May 9th, 1950

Open Letter to a Nitwit

page 2

Open Letter to a Nitwit

Dear Nitwit

You were one of the people who attended the special general meeting in the gym on the night of May 3 last. You were one of the mob who very seldom come along to these meetings unless you think there is a chance for some "fun," and we suppose you came along to this meeting for that reason.

We haven't any objection whatever to people coming along to meetings—our chief bind for years has been the fact that not enough people attend Stud. Ass. meetings. But we do like to think that when students come along, they are prepared to behave like adults.

You were one of the mob at the back of whose behaviour the ex-president remarked, "While I do not myself agree with hardly a word the speaker was saying, I can see no possible justification for such barbaric behaviour."

May we get to the point by remarking that children like you have no place in a university? This is a place where no matter what opinion anyone holds, he may express it; or it is no university.

The name "student" is one which has some real dignity attached to it. It means one who is prepared to learn, and is humble enough about his own knowledge to realise that he can learn something from pretty nearly anyone. We don't think you have any right to the name "student."

May we suggest that you either grow up, quickly, or get out, quickly: this is no place for you.

Your behaviour—apart from reflecting little credit on your upbringing—was a studied insult to the chairwoman, to the speaker, to the meeting, and most of all to the very tradition of this university. Louts like you spoil this place for adults: your ilk also ruins our reputation by hooliganism around (but never daring to do it in) extrav. parties. This sort of arrested adolescence just doesn't fit here.

Under the circumstances, it's unfortunate that you probably won't dare publicise yourself by making an open apology to the president—which is what you would do if you had any guts. But in future, if you can't grow, we suggest you go. Your regretfully,