Sabrina Noble Columnist

Tuesday night's forum at the Student Union Memorial Center, organized by Republican City Councilwoman Kathleen Dunbar, quickly turned toward underage drinking when law enforcement officials again announced that underage drinking is a punishable offense.

Student arguments against this point were varied, but all were ridiculous.

As one ASUA senator pointed out, the guy whose fake ID is confiscated will probably only drink more out of spite. True, and if he's caught again, he'll again be held in violation of the law. Who looks stupid, him or the police?

A fraternity alumni board president said it's unfair that fraternity houses are surrounded by residential neighborhoods. Chances are good the neighborhood existed before the fraternity houses, but even if this weren't the case, the fact is that there are other residents and, as a respectful neighbor, one must take them into consideration even if it's an inconvenience to illegal underage drinking. One student added that residents "should understand that they're living in a college town," but students should also understand they're living in a town of which the university is only a part.

Other students questioned whether law enforcement tactics are infringing on their civil rights. And what rights are these? Are they the rights to hold loud parties until 3 a.m. in privacy and to hold a beer while underage without being accosted by the police? When one disturbs the peace and

violates the law, his or her civil rights bubble meets with the duty of law enforcement.

And yet, UA students seem to be seriously hung up on what that duty is. It would seem that the police are obligated to actually uphold the laws, which seems unfair to the people in violation. No one likes to be caught, but that's the gamble one takes. This is obvious, so where's the communication breakdown?

I have no choice but to believe that, somehow, students were never told until now that underage drinking is illegal. So as a sort of educational forum, I want to declare that yes, it is. If you're underage, swim (in the keg) at your own risk; no appeal to civil rights will save you from the inescapable fact that when you've been caught, you've been caught.

And in all honesty, isn't that part of the appeal? There's something especially alluring about breaking the rules. It's practically become a college tradition to outwit the police and stumble home at the end of the night comforted in your nausea by knowing you've gotten away with something.

Once, this risk was just enough to make drinking exciting without worrying too seriously about trouble. Now, police are forcing many underage students to take pause. Unlike their partying predecessors, they must consider whether that party cup is worth it in a city revitalizing a drinking law that has long been scoffed at.

Rather than accepting this as terms of the drinking game they choose to play, students are whining: "How dare the police make us choose between the law and our fun? We want to feel safe under the law while also being able to selectively break it!"

Frankly, I'm amazed that the police are even bothering to defend themselves against students' childish tirades. They could rely solely on the fact that they're just doing their jobs, but they're taking the time to explain that the "we're gonna do it anyway" argument simply isn't going to work any longer. Sorry, kids.

Students say police are going about enforcing underage drinking laws the wrong way, but no one seems to be suggesting the right way ÷ which I suspect they think is letting them get away. Students want the cops to back off so they can have fun breaking the law without having to worry about legal consequences. Then they accuse police of getting a kick out of enforcing the law.

Sounds like a bunch of kids having a tantrum after getting caught for something they knew they shouldn't be doing.

Every criminal out there wishes to get away with what he or she is doing, and I think we're all glad that, most of the time, they don't. When students stomp around insisting underage drinking isn't a "real crime," they shirk their personal responsibility to uphold the laws and prove to be what Tucsonans fear: big kids recklessly treating the city like a playground.

Drink if you want, but when the police knock on your door, at least be a good sport and admit when you've been bested. Otherwise, wait until 21.

Sabrina Noble is a senior majoring in English and creative writing. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.