Illustration by Mike Padilla

Arguing that it led to social tensions on campus, the UA administration on Tuesday decided to ban the use of maids on campus. The policy most directly affects sorority houses and affluent residence hall dwellers who had been paying maids to clean their rooms. Although the policy is favored by several campus groups, who argue that it helps eliminates inequality on campus, others argue it infringes upon their individual rights. Did the UA act in the interests of the overall campus community with the decision?

Point

Cleaning services promote inequality, should be banned

It was Wednesday morning, and dorm residents and greeks alike expected to awake to the reassuring sound of whirring vacuums and the pleasant humming of cleaning maids, proof that all was well in the warm cocoon of the young and affluent. But there would be no humming on that sad morning, and it can all be blamed on everyone's favorite villain: the UA administration.

"I mean, I was, like, stripped of my dignity here. My clothes were all left where I had thrown them, my tanning goggles are totally lost and all of my Ugg boots are out of order," said one sophomore sorority girl who wished to remain anonymous (she glared at me when I suggested the alias "Deep Throat," insisting that her sorority "isn't called that anymore").

Yet, despite such student outrage, the administration is content with its rationale - that cleaning services inevitably create class tensions in a student body that has people from all walks of life. Besides, reasoned one administrator, if Harvard's doing it, so should the UA.

Damion LeeNatali Columnist

"Well, of course the university wants to emulate Harvard at any opportunity it can get," said Summer Lawrence, dean of emulating all things Harvard. "In many ways, I think we're well on our way. We graduate tons of underachieving students who have rich daddies in high places. And guess what? So does Harvard!"

Sitting back to contemplate the brilliance of his last statement, he finally went on to add, "So two women scientists go into a bar ..."

Lawrence's fuzzy reasoning notwithstanding, I found one student who wholeheartedly believed in the new policy, and his viewpoint might well be the best validation of the UA's new ban on cleaning service.

Meet Trevor Carnegie, a dreadlocked business administration junior from Beverly Hills, Calif.

"Yeah, man, I totally believe that cleaning services are a result of our hypercapitalist, consumer-driven society, and the dorm kids and greeks are just another reminder that the man is keeping the rest of us down," he said, pausing to sip his $7 decaf grande no-foam soy milk caramel machiatto.

But Carnegie, who proudly showed me the "Down with capitalism!" stickers plastered across the back of his BMW, was somewhat stumped when I asked him how he knew that minorities or underprivileged students felt repressed by the presence of cleaning staffs in residence halls and greek houses. Fiddling with his Ché Guevara T-shirt, he replied hesitantly, "Well, I watch a lot of UPN."

Apparently, though, what Carnegie lacks in reasoning he makes up for with a strong following. Indeed, tensions came to a head yesterday, when hundreds of dorm residents and greeks clashed with Carnegie and his cohorts, who had somehow managed to chain themselves across the doors of the maids' supply closets, exclaiming in unison, "Hell no - they won't go!"

During a short lull in the excitement, though, Carnegie's revolutionaries and various fraternity members found a common bond as they debated the finer points of summering in the Hamptons. With the ousted maids looking on, the two groups resolved to mend the fences, promptly setting a tee time for a round of golf and drinks.

Said Carnegie of the renewed spirit of cooperation: "It's good to know that some of these guys share something in common with me. In fact, I think I can convince them to become more civic minded in the same way that I did - we're planning to have a 'Moesha' night every Monday."

Damion LeeNatali is a political science and history sophomore. He can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.

Counterpoint

On-campus maid service necessary, convenient for UA students

Rui Wang Columnist

Undeclared freshman Tiffany Langdon lives in Coronado Residence Hall. Between going to the gym, rushing for Monday chapter and hanging out with her boyfriend Matt, it's hard for Langdon to find time to clean her room. "Sometimes, it gets really bad in here, and I can't even find my Dooney & Bourke bag under all the clothes on the floor, and Matt gets mad at me 'cause he'll come over, and I'm not ready to go out yet 'cause I'm still looking for it, you know?"

Langdon has a good point. Sometimes UA students are just too busy to clean their own rooms. The college experience is about meeting new people from around the country, socializing and developing as a human being, and occasionally going to class. When colleges were first founded in medieval England, you can bet that the University Charter didn't include making students pick up dirty underwear out of the sink.

Conchita - the maid who regularly cleans Langdon's room - goes by her first name only, like "Madonna" or the rapper "Eve." Conchita cleans twice a week, and three times a week when what Langdon refers to as "that time of the month" happens.

Conchita is friendly and efficient. "She's great," said Langdon. "She's always smiling and telling me 'tay oh-dee-o,' which means 'hello' and stuff like that." Langdon said that Conchita also has affectionate nicknames for her like "puta gorda."

"I don't know what she's saying, but she always says it with such a big smile."

Restricting UA students from hiring maids to clean their rooms for the purpose of reducing socioeconomic class tensions totally misses the point. Of all the ostentatious displays of wealth that occur on campus, having your room cleaned is probably one of the most low-profile ways to prove you're rich. By restricting maid services, the UA is also dealing a blow to the market forces of capitalism that define this great nation of ours.

Plus, for UA students who have never cleaned their rooms before, it can be a daunting task.

Mike Krackowitz, a sports media junior, remembers the first time he tried to use a vacuum cleaner: "It kind of ... uh ... sucked." Krackowitz doesn't see why he has to clean his room if he "can just pay to have it cleaned." Krackowitz also doesn't see why he has to write his own papers if he "can just pay to have them written."

Back at Coronado, Langdon's roommate and anthropology freshman Jenny Tomlin agrees that hiring maid service is well worth the investment. In addition, Tomlin, an anthropology senior, sees the social and economic impact of the service on the maids themselves. "OK, Conchita is from some totally poor country, and I give her, like, $5 a day to make my bed and that's, like, almost 100 pesos or whatever."

Tomlin also expressed hope that one day, Conchita would be able to "live the American dream" and "get her leg fixed."

Allowing students to hire maids to clean their dorm rooms is convenient and saves time for the students, and benefits the service industry workers as well. The UA administration is sorely mistaken in its decision.

Rui Wang is a third-year law student. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.