Scared Vikings

Uneasy students beg for armed guards on campus

You and I sit naked and defenseless while university administrators, cushioned in the lavish comfort of their private offices, casually weigh the merits of arming Portland State’s security detail with handguns.

THIS, TOO, IS MEANINGLESS
By Ben Ricker
Uneasy students beg for armed guards on campus

You and I sit naked and defenseless while university administrators, cushioned in the lavish comfort of their private offices, casually weigh the merits of arming Portland State’s security detail with handguns.

Alyck Horton’s op-ed last week shined light on an important campus issue: the university’s defenselessness in the heart of a city wild with unpredictable non-students.

The one thing that makes PSU distinct—its metropolitan location—is a double-edged sword.

Open integration with downtown Portland facilitates the two-way knowledge exchange between city and school. PSU, proud of the symbiotic relationship it has with the city, makes civic service its motto.

The trouble, per Horton’s diagnosis, is that PSU’s doors open too wide, inviting undesirable elements like drug dealers and homeless people.

PSU is, in Horton’s words, “too accessible.”

The peril faced by the student body deepens with every block that the university absorbs as it sprawls wider across Portland’s southwest side. And as the school’s footprint expands, it becomes more and more difficult for the Campus Public Safety Office to shield students from the dregs of society.

Students crisscrossing the South Park Blocks are troubled for their pocket change by transients. They can’t get from Lincoln Hall to the library without refusing drug pushers.

But it’s not just hobos and drug dealers that have students feeling uneasy. For all anyone knows, there might be even darker forces in our midst. Five-year-old images of the Virginia Tech massacre remain fresh in student minds.
Students like Horton worry that CPSO is ill equipped to respond with appropriate force to inner-city nuisances. At present, campus police are directed to call the real police in cases of emergency and wait a couple minutes for them to arrive.

Horton calls the shootings in Virginia a “wake up call” to put deadly weapons in the hands of campus security guards. But what sounds to him like a “wake up call” is really just a lot of noise.

In his article, Horton counts 19 weapons-related referrals or arrests on campus over the last three years. Where Horton sees an alarming need for more firepower, I see a flawless record.

Despite the fact that our protectors were out-gunned every time, no one was injured. These numbers indicate that CPSO officers don’t need guns; they need medals.

Imagine if campus police had been given guns three years ago. Would the record still be 19 and zero? Maybe. But probably not. Zero is a pretty hard score to beat.

Aside from the fact that handguns aren’t needed here, the atmosphere of firearms would certainly alter the vibe at a school where openness is the ethos.

Attending PSU hopefully convinces scared Vikings to feel less personally threatened by homeless people and drug pushers. PSU can help students see the downtrodden not as monsters to be swept out of sight by men in uniform but as human beings that are part of a city with serious troubles.

Instead of flinching from Portland’s problems, PSU encourages students to take a crack at solving them.
There are online courses for Vikings who’d feel safer at home.