Like so many other LSU alumni and lifetime LSU fans, I celebrated an incredible victory in the stadium Saturday night. I was so proud of our guys and the courage they had in those last moments. I cheered, I sang, my adrenaline was working overtime. A hearty salute to our fearless, talented football players and the brilliant game plan laid out by their coaches!
But alas, this is not why I write this letter. Let me explain in advance that the thoughts I put to paper this morning are only my own and not those of our faculty or our administration.
I have been an LSU fan since an afternoon in 1988 when the LSU Office of Admissions took the time to call me and tell me why I needed to be here. I sure had my heart set on Texas but the welcome I received here could not be matched. I was there with Tiger Band celebrating for the earthquake game. The walls in our row home in Philadelphia were literally shaking from our exuberant celebration when LSU finally beat a first-ranked Florida. I cried with Gerry DiNardo when he was let go, and yes, I sang along with Garth Brooks the second time the earthquake happened.
When I got the opportunity to come back to Louisiana in 2001 and build my career as an LSU faculty member, I didn’t give it a second thought. I’ve spent my last 21 years doing my part to bring value to the degrees we offer and what we represent. Combined with the eight years I spent here obtaining degrees, that’s more than half of my lifetime.
That said, please understand my humiliation when in the stairwell Saturday night, we were serenaded with that caustic, vulgar chant. I’m usually thankful that the student section is far from our seats, so I don’t have to hear it so vividly, but alas, there it was.
My usual routine is to hurriedly get to the car so I can watch the post-game press conferences. I couldn’t help but page over to watch Saban’s reaction, and there it is again, recorded for all the world to hear. Out of curiosity, I Googled the lyrics, and imagine my horror when Google catalogued those words as the LSU Anthem. I understand that it’s reached a point of “supreme coolness.” One can even purchase T-shirts with the lyrics outside the stadium, in fact, but for someone like me, it’s far from cool.
When I hear those words, I feel hurt and so much shame. Those fearless warriors down there are not the team of Bobby Boucher, and we are not his university. I sing the Alma Mater with pride each Saturday in the Fall, and those inspiring halls mean something to me. Have it mean something to you.
Tammy R. Dugas, Ph.D.