***Editor’s Note: This article was published as part of the satirical April 1, 2015 issue
Treasurer declares interactions with SOFC extremely fulfilling
For a seasoned treasurer, a new semester means answering questions about the Student Organization Funding Committee (SOFC) application process. “Where does the unused SOFC money go?” “Was this a product of the Reagan Administration?” and most commonly, “How come the UN hasn’t intervened and put a stop to this torture?”
In spite of all of the love that radiates so dazzlingly from the heart of every treasurer, I sense tension between the rest of the student body and SOFC. I do not believe this is indicative of a grievously inefficient system, but rather the disappointing lack of student awareness and empathy regarding the funding process.
Let me make this abundantly clear: If you understood the funding process, you’d be able to recognize the precision, the practicality, the awe-inspiring majesty of the application. And if you understood what it was like to be a treasurer, you’d recognize why treasurers just can’t stop singing SOFC’s praises.
Allow me to explain. SOFC — or as the treasurers call it, the Super Outstanding Friends Committee — follows a streamlined, organized application system: You find the exorbitantly overpriced item of your choice on Amazon, you find two websites selling that item for $0.49 more, and then your entire application gets rejected because you didn’t specify a date. It’s innovative. It’s merciful.
If your application gets rejected, you have to go through the very simple appeal process. Treasurers looking to appeal for more funding gather outside of the bursar’s office on the first full moon after their funding is rejected. Each treasurer brings whatever they can for the Offering — usually office supplies, but occasionally the Equestrian team will show up with some kind of meat. After an electric candle-lighting ceremony — don’t want to set off a fire alarm — the treasurers staple their hands together and chant, “We are not worthy! We are not worthy!” until the break of dawn.
After this straightforward and practically effortless routine, we receive the Blessed Email stating that SOFC, who initially rejected our applications because they were three minutes late following a paper jam in the Lulu printer, needs another day to look over applications. And then, once the shadow of the bell tower falls upon the Sacred Tree, we are notified that our appeals have been unilaterally rejected. (All of this information can be easily found on the bursar’s website, which is accessible to the pure of heart and those who know a guy who knows a guy).
SOFC is benevolent; however, each year they choose s select Elite to receive funding. Most of us will never join the Elite, but those who do — I bow before thee! — will be brought into a truly philanthropic and logical system of fund allocation.
Yes, philanthropic and logical: SOFC grants money based on how important a club is for the overall well- being of the Wellesley student body: For example, the Equestrian team received about $33,000 in funding in fall 2014, about 25 percent of the money SOFC granted during that period. Seeing as 25 percent of our daily life revolves around horses, this is a delightful testament to a system that makes sense.
Writers, meanwhile, are notoriously corrupt and wealthy, interested only in buying and selling live animals for sums greater than what most families make in a year. Recognizing the writers’ treachery, SOFC instituted a publication cap as punishment.
Because I live in fear of having free time — of being left alone inside of my wretched, sinful mind — I look forward to filling out my funding application. And even though I was not among the Elite this year, I would like to end my article by thanking SOFC.
If treasurers like me didn’t have to prove that driving to Boston is cheaper than flying there via private jet, they might use that free time to do something dangerous, like make friends or discover non-academic passions.
Treasurer or not, we are all indebted to SOFC. Our beloved committee reminds us that Wellesley provides only the very best for its students and their extracurricular interests: after all, if you can’t trust a bunch of 19-year- old prospective econ majors with $129,000, who can you trust?
Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons