_Mark Curtin is a Senior Film Studies/English major at MU. He is an opinion columnist who writes about local issues for The Maneater._
After a weekend night in Columbia, Supportive Tigers Riding In Pursuit of Ensuring Safety can be a literal lifesaver. The awkwardly titled volunteer organization operates Thursday through Sunday, providing free rides to MU students back to their place of residence.
As great of a service as STRIPES is, I found volunteering at it absolutely brutal. While many students are happy to serve their community through it, it wasn’t for me.
Last year, as a STRIPES volunteer, I wrapped up my homework early and went to sleep around 7 p.m. More often than not, I would lie awake in bed dreading how tired I’d be in the morning. At 8:30 p.m., after my catnap, I’d go outside, freezing on most nights between October and March, hop in my car and drive to STRIPES headquarters – it’s just across Stadium Boulevard from Hatch, where I live, so that wasn’t bad.
Upon arriving, there was always pizza to lull me into a false sense of security, and I settled onto a couch for an extra hour of sleep and begrudgingly got the car ready for a night on the town. When 10 p.m. rolled around, I’d get paired up with a driver and begin navigating Columbia. This was the meat of the night, and it was often enjoyable. I’m not too chatty of a person, but I always got along well with whomever I was assigned with and the passengers provided they didn’t vomit in the backseat. Still, this often left me with a hoarse voice for a couple of days after speaking all night.
Around 1 or 2 a.m., time started to flow differently, and I became exhausted from sleep deprivation, as well. I normally don’t stay up past 10 p.m. Why did I volunteer again? By the time 3 a.m. rolled around, the cars staggered back into the lot… if I was lucky. More often, there was a backlog of assignments that took closer to 3:30 a.m. to finish up. We removed car toppers (the little STRIPES sign on top), filled out reports with trembling hands and drove back to Hatch. If I was lucky, I crawled into bed by 4.
Some nights were more interesting than others. I was hit on several times by drunk patrons, something that would probably make others uncomfortable but just made me chuckle. More than once was I given the wrong address. Other nights, I was overtaken by restless leg syndrome and the overwhelming fear I’d develop a fatal blood clot from sitting down too long. Fortunately, I never stumbled into the more “exciting” encounters that some of my peers have, like car accidents or run-ins with the police.
Still, STRIPES wasn’t the right choice for me. It’s a necessary and valued part of MU, but every shift felt like it was sucking out my soul. This was not the fault of management or my coworkers – I simply wasn’t cut out for such demanding hours and such upbeat interaction with patrons. I’m much happier being behind a desk and typing words into a computer instead of saying them aloud.
My two semesters in STRIPES were eye-opening, to say the least. I got to see sides of Columbia that I didn’t necessarily want to but still got to assist my community. Regardless, I’m much happier to serve MU by writing for The Maneater where I’m not sleep deprived.
_Edited by Bryce Kolk | bkolk@themaneater.com_
