Damn you, cruel fate, that I was born white, upper-middle class and straight. Damn you that I was raised in the suburbs. Damn you that we belonged to a country club, that I own stock, that my dad has guns. Damn you that I can’t refer to myself as liberal without laughing.

I want desperately to be a Democrat. It just seems so cool, the way smoking was in high school, the way braces were in junior high, the way slap bracelets were in elementary school. Everybody’s doing it, and I want in.

I’ll confess that my fixation with all that is liberal began when the boy I had a secret crush on last quarter vehemently proclaimed, “All Republicans should die.” Bless this sweet boy for opening my eyes to the truth: All the cool kids are Democrats.

And it’s not just you, either, my fellow Wildcats, dominant though the purple liberal is. Oh, no — you’ve got star power on your side. George Clooney. Jennifer Aniston. Sean Penn. Tom Hanks. Why, just this year, everyone’s favorite pretty woman, Julia Roberts, said, “Republican comes in the dictionary just after reptile and just above repugnant.”

Charlton Heston and Ted Nugent really can’t compete with that kind of A-list talent. And the very thought of someone like Julia associating me with repugnant reptiles — it’s almost too much to bear.

So I come to you, my peers, you who have learned to ignore the pressures of your former rich, white, suburban lives and to embrace that great donkey. Help me, teach me to be like you.

I try. I dress a little hippie. I loudly inform people how much I hate the death penalty, with nary a word about my more conservative views on abortion, taxes and social security. I hug the trees outside my apartment at least once a week.

Sometimes I fool people. I’ve had several friends tell me I don’t seem like a Republican. One even goes so far as to insist that I’m not really one, that I’m just confused. I had a professor who was so surprised by my confession that he became openly hostile, telling me he used to think I was a nice person.

I’m not alone on campus. I know that. I spent election night sophomore year drinking Busch for Bush with a group of like-minded students. Or, at least, a group of students who couldn’t come up with an alcoholic theme to go along with Gore. Whatever. We young conservatives take what we can get.

But that’s just the reason that I want out. We’re that group of misfits in elementary school that were friends because no one else liked us. And I’m sick of being the fat kid, the smelly kid, the kid who picked her nose and talked to the boogers before she ate them.

It’s like Billy Madison said: “You ain’t cool unless you pee your pants.” I see all of you there with your piss stains, but I just don’t have to go right now. So until I can, I’ll be the girl in the corner pouring a big old glass of liberal water on her crotch.

Kelly Roe is a McCormick senior. She can be reached at [email protected].