Beggars Can Be Choosers
Some colleges attempt to make donors out of new graduates

By Otis Clay

I'm trying to figure out when, in my two years removed from college, I had the time to acquire an abundance of wealth to bestow upon my alma mater.

Let's see. Could it have been during those first six months after graduation, when I could not find a job that didn't involve wearing a visor and an apron?

Or maybe it was in the months after I got downsized from my less-than-satisfactory, short-term corporate job, when I made some key investment choices with my unemployment checks.

Or perhaps it was in between writing check after check to creditors, utility companies, my landlord and college loan companies.

OK, maybe some people are a bit more financially sound a year or two removed college. Me, I'm still in survival mode. And while my arms grow fatigued from treading in this ocean of debt, I don't expect any life preservers to be tossed my way.

But I don't expect any anchors, either.

Yet every couple months, a phone call arrives from my trusty university. It's not a phone call from career services or the reunion committee, though. It's the alumni association, telling -- not asking -- me that I should be committed to my university as an active alumnus. That joining my alumni association -- for a mere $50 a year -- is only the first step in making a valuable contribution to the university community.

But it doesn't end there. No, no. I can give $100, $200, $500 or more. And each level of commitment doesn't just give me the satisfaction of having donated money to improve the future of education at the university, I also get a cuddly school teddy bear, or a T-shirt, or a license-plate holder.

Hold on, let me get my checkbook.

At the very least, I understand the alumni association's eagerness to keep us young alumni active with the university, whether those reasons are pure (like providing mentors for current students) or financial (getting alumni to commit more and more, year after year). At $50 a year, I know it's pocket change for some, a week's salary for others. But it would be nice if they offered the first few years free to young alumni.

I just wish that when I say, "I'm unable to contribute or join at this time," the answer would be accepted, without need for reason, let alone further sales pitches.

The moment the representative turns to a newspaper reporter, I get offended. The university should be grateful if I join the alumni association, and respectful if I choose not to. Instead, I'm met with, "I'm sorry to hear that. May I ask why you wouldn't want to join your alumni association or give back to your university?"

"Hmm, may you? Let's see why. I only have to pay off $65,000 more on my college loans. In fact, I already donated about $55,000 to the school. Where's my hooded university sweatshirt?"

If only I had the nerve to say that. Instead, I mumble about not being able to commit this year (yes, I even use their jargon), but may be able to next year (and thus, wind up getting called again in a couple months).

It seems in this instance, the beggar can afford to be a chooser, the beggar just chooses not to. Funny, I thought I was the one who needed to do some begging.

When Otis Clay received his diploma, he claims he was offered fries with it.