Tuition hikes turn students into lobbyists

At Lobby Day in Albany a few weeks ago, a record 1,000 students showed up to argue against proposed cuts in grants for poorer students.

In Santa Fe, where public-university officials are considering a tuition hike, a record number of student lobbyists came to the Capitol recently and handed out ramen noodles to lawmakers as conversation pieces.

In Maryland, 300 community- college students trekked to Annapolis on Feb. 12 to decry a proposal to cut state funding for two-year colleges next year. The lobbying event was a first for Maryland's community colleges.

And here in Raleigh earlier this month, 750 students - triple the number from a similar event two years ago - walked the Legislative Building, hammering home a single point: That university spending isn't just a frill, but a solid investment in the state's economy. The backdrop: the legislature is trying to find ways to close a $2 billion budget sinkhole.

"People like me can go make the case all day long, but it's really an added boost when a constituent can sit in a legislator's office and look that person in the eye," says Stephen Johnson, the vice president of government affairs at Cornell University in Ithaca, N.Y.

To these activists, the issues are too complex to handle with street protests.

Here in North Carolina, the tactics have changed dramatically. In 2000, thousands of students succeeded in freezing a proposed tuition hike by marching on the Legislative Building. At one point, they charged into the chambers, cornering legislators in the halls and exchanging unfriendly sobriquets.

This month, students showed a more professional air. Instead of lobbing insults, they lobbied quietly in hallways and in the chambers.

"The group that came to the legislature had coats and ties on, and it was very civil and they talked politely to the legislators," says Mark Fleming, the chief lobbyist for the University of North Carolina system. "I almost felt like somebody had really been coaching them, and it wasn't me."

Ducote, a burly N.C. State junior, is studying to be an accountant, not a politician. But his laid-back attitude suggests more than a hint of savvy: Starting with a car-trunk model of business, the association he leads now has 25 volunteer lobbyists spending time at the Capitol every week.

On this particular day, Ducote's shirt may be a bit wrinkled. But when he has to, he's glad to don a tie and make small talk with chancellors, legislators, and university presidents. And before any legislators actually visit the new HQ, Ducote vows he'll clear the bookbags and soda cans off his desk.

"For us to be taken seriously, we have to put on a professional face here and there," he says with a grin.

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