From concerts to parties to floats to regulations, we have all taken in a flood of information and ideas concerning the upcoming Veishea weekend. There has recently been a proliferation of opinion articles on the topic — some impressively knowledgeable, some thought-provoking and some plain immature. I would like to offer a perspective that I have not heard voiced by others, an overlooked but important element in understanding Veishea.

Saturday morning many people will arise and embark upon the yearly tradition of attending the Veishea festivities. Dedicated students who have been working for months on floats, displays, open houses, cherry pies, demonstrations and shows will drag themselves out of bed at times they wouldn’t dream of on any other weekend. Alumni will walk the campus on which they spent so much time on one, 10, or 40 years ago, see what’s different and how some things never change, and enjoy the chance to feel some of the Veishea excitement they felt when they were students. And parents will pile their children in the car with plenty of sunscreen and bags for candy, ready for a day of fun, laughter and maybe even a little learning. Perhaps these people know something we don’t.

As a resident of Ames for all of my 21 years, I have seen all of these sides to Veishea. I may not be an alum myself, but I have listened to my parents reminisce about college and time spent in the courtyards around campus while dating. I have been approached by people who have kept coming to Veishea shows as an annual tradition for decades, to be told how wonderful it is to see well-loved demonstrations being performed at open houses. I have cheered for medieval fighters and sung madrigals at the Society for Creative Anachronism tent. I have helped countless children do simple experiments and have performed chemistry demonstrations with faculty members whom I watched do the same things 10 years ago when they were still students. I marched with the Ames High band in the parade, and before that as a Campfire kid. I remember vividly an elementary school field trip when we got to see how some of the floats were being built. I remember waiting with anticipation for the parade to start while eating cherry pies when I was so small that they seemed as big as my face. I remember getting my face painted, petting all kinds of wonderful animals, eating the best ice cream ever under the apple blossoms in the Kildee courtyard, being fascinated by liquid nitrogen and lasers at the physics building, and watching red hot goo turned into beautiful vases right before my eyes at the glassblowing demonstrations. Veishea was something to look forward to. It was the highlight of my year, and it has given me some of my fondest childhood memories. These are not unique experiences; they are what Veishea means to many people, whether they are adults coming to see what Iowa State is like now, people who just love the atmosphere and opportunities, or children just discovering the world.

Even if ‘mere’ sentimentality and festivity don’t mean much to you, and although Veishea may no longer be the recruitment tool that it used to be, I am living proof of the strong impact Veishea can still make on people. Every year since third grade, my parents took me to the chemistry “magic” show, and I watched in awe as colors changed, things exploded or disappeared, and flame and sparks filled the air. It was because of these Veishea shows that I knew from age 12 that nothing was going to stop me from going to Iowa State and being a part of that someday. And that is exactly what I’ve done. Maybe Veishea isn’t geared so much toward recruitment anymore, but surely I can’t be the only one in recent history to be impacted by Veishea in such a way.

On Saturday, thousands of people will flock to campus from the dorms, the greek houses, all of Ames, and surrounding communities for the largest student-organized festival in the nation. But many students are so preoccupied with the “unfairness” of having to take responsibility for the safety (or lack thereof) of our actions that we’ve forgotten that Veishea affects a far more vast population than just the students of Iowa State. There are thousands of Iowa State alumni, family and friends, prospective students, and children that also come to Veishea, and to many of them (as well as to some Iowa State students, believe it or not) it means a lot more than another weekend of drinking and parties, even more than a parade, some food vendors or an impressive resume, and they should not have to pay for the irresponsible behavior of others. Somehow, they have a wonderful time without needing to rely on alcohol for it.

Have we forgotten how to do that? If we feel we must drink to show the administration that we are the ones in control of our behavior, if we must drink in order to have ‘fun,’ we are really only surrendering and letting the alcohol control us. There are hundreds of things to do other than drinking. So instead, see the parade, watch swordfighting, try to fill up on cotton candy, tour the lush horticulture greenhouses, see a show. And for just a moment, watch the children. See the joy, excitement and wonder in their faces, the lilt in their steps. Try to feel it too, and please remember that the choices we make this weekend can bring that feeling back to us each year, or they can mean the death of a tradition that is cherished by thousands.

Sarah Weitzel is a junior in speech communication and theatre education from Ames.