Five hundred and fifty. More than 550 student clubs and organizations on this campus. Student government, special interest, departmental, multicultural.

A place for yo-yo enthusiasts, juggling unicyclists, something called the Kompelling Kontagious Internacional Org.

And yet nothing specifically caters to the world of Cavan P. Reagan. Nothing. (I’ve looked.)

I’ve been to the meetings of nearly every acronym on this campus and none of them entirely cater to my needs. I require a support group, and I demand it now.

That’s why I formed LHHTVJMA – the Left-Handed, Half-Taiwanese, Vegetarian Journalism Majors Association, an organization destined to suit the needs of at least one student until his graduation in 13 months.

Forming the group was easier than I’d planned. The Student Organizations Office only needed a full cabinet and some signatures before I was on my way to creating my club.

I quickly recruited executives, a daring process that required only applying a sledgehammer to my roommate’s right hand, filing adoption papers with a sweet old couple in Taipei, some paperwork in Catt Hall and a visit to 18 of the world’s meanest slaughter houses. Soon, at least half a dozen of my friends were eligible to be in the Left-Handed, Half-Taiwanese Vegetarian Journalism Majors Association.

We’re setting up booths across campus. We’re holding signs at random times. We just want to spread the LHHTVJMA love.

Everything was well and good. We met on Tuesday evenings in our reserved room on campus to talk about the woes of being part of such a specialized group. It didn’t take long, though, before we were just talking and hanging out.

A few new kids would show up every few weeks. They weren’t always LH, HT, V or JM, but we let them in anyway. Sometimes they just needed a place on campus to feel like they belonged. I’m fairly certain most of them, actually, were just there because of the free cheese puffs.

Eventually the puffs weren’t enough to justify a weekly meeting. I started bringing in guests and speakers from groups similar to LHHTVJMA. We watched films about LHHTVJMA issues. We played LHHTVJMA games. One week we did each other’s laundry. I’m not really sure why . it was just an idea one of the members had.

Soon students on campus started to wonder what our group was doing, why it was ever formed. Was there really a need for students like us to meet once a week and discuss our concerns? One angry letter to the editor demanded to know why we were wasting students’ money running a group not everybody was invited to.

I tried to clear things up by inviting everyone to our meetings. Nobody came, though. Nobody wanted to be part of the LHHTVJMA, not after the bad reputation we were garnering on campus. On the fliers I put up each week to advertise our meetings, I mentioned that we offered free cheese puffs. I put four exclamation points after “puffs,” just to show everyone how yummy they were. I underlined “free,” too. Two times. I let “cheese” stay as it was. Everyone knows what “cheese” means.

It didn’t work. Everyone thought we were freaks. Nobody really knew what LHHTVJMA was for.

One of our more rambunctious members decided it would be a good idea to campaign about what the point of our organization was, and how everyone was welcome to join. We even tacked on an extra “A” in the name, to show that even all those A-holes who were calling us freaks were welcome to join, too.

After minutes of planning, we launched the first LHHTVJMAA Consciousness Half-Week. We taught people how to write using their left hand. We served tofu and soy, sang traditional Taiwanese songs (but only halfway through) and visited journalism classes.

We blanketed bulletin boards with posters announcing our Left-Handed, Half-Taiwanese Vegetarian Journalism Majors Association love. On each, we included positive messages about what makes us unique.

“Engineering classes have you down? Anybody can be a journalism major!”

“Seeking ridicule at traditional Midwest meals? Anybody can be a vegetarian!”

By the end of our Consciousness Half-Week, though, most of the signs were ripped down or had writing all over them.

“Everybody has a right to write with their right hand! Ambidexterity is wrong!”

“Your mixed ethnicity confuses us! Everybody should be white!”

“Jesus hates journalism majors!”

Saddened, but not defeated, I decided the campus wasn’t ready to be conscious of the LHHTVJMAA. We started working on our internal issues again – really focusing on the point of the group in the first place. It wasn’t just the free cheese puffs that united us. It was something more – something about each of us being LH, HT, V and JM, but also being individuals.

The puffs, though – the puffs helped.

Cavan Reagan is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Bellevue, Neb. He is the news editor of the Daily.