Thanks to the Office of the President and Undergraduate Council President Sujean S. Lee ’03, this year’s Springfest—instead of just being like my primary school spring fair—will likely also bear some uncanny resemblance to an office picnic (without the beer). The April 27 event is supposed to be the council’s banner event. But this year, new University President Lawrence H. Summers wants to co-sponsor the event and open it to the entire Harvard community—making it an event for Harvard students, but also for faculty, staff, and their families.

This isn’t an inherently bad idea. But it means that the president and the council have fundamentally changed the nature of Springfest. The event has come a long way since my senior year of high school (the last time alcohol was permitted). With this shift, it’s not really a student-focused event any more. That might not be such a big deal, if someone had taken the trouble to really make clear what students stand to gain from Summers co-sponsoring the event in the first place.

One answer, according to Lee: a band. Without the support of the president’s office, she says, the council would have been able to allocate only about $5,000 for student bands. Summers’ office has chipped in enough that the council can bid for a national band at about $15,000. But somehow, top choice Jurassic Five was still out of the council’s financial reach. This year, the council has allocated $20,000 for all of Springfest—and officials in the president’s office say they can’t yet specify their contribution. There’s no sign that the council is asking for specific numbers in exchange for the president’s stipulations for the revamped event.

Tops on the list of Springfest priorities should be a bigger budget: $20,000 isn’t that much, and it’s certainly not enough to bring a really big-name band to the splendid green space of the MAC Quad (cough). Plus, with the newly expanded Springfest audience, picking a band now requires considering a broader age range. (Lee was quoted in The Crimson saying that because of this wider age range, organizers didn’t favor hip-hop. I wasn’t aware that the appeal of that genre was limited to college students. Another column, another day.)

Summers apparently intends his involvement with Springfest to replace the annual President’s Dance—a tradition of his predecessor, Neil L. Rudenstine, who brought his wife Angelica to festooned Annenberg Hall to meet and mingle with first-years. (Admittedly, continuing this tradition might prove a little uncomfortable for newly single Summers, whose chosen dancing partner would undoubtedly be the object of considerable speculation.) Lee says that, although no dollar amount has been specified, she is sure that this year’s Springfest will see president’s office funding comparable to that of the nixed dance. That’s got to be a hefty sum. So how come we aren’t reviving our long-crushed dreams of the Dave Matthews Band? Lee says that although the president’s office is supporting Springfest, the money isn’t going just to the bands—it’s going to improve the other attractions as well, broadening their range and appeal for the new group of Springfest attendees.

Summers does more than avoid the waltz by throwing his weight behind Springfest. He gets the benefit of prominent interaction with students, specifically undergraduates. He also gets the benefit of working with council dollars and manpower to benefit groups the University has been accused of treating badly—Faculty and workers. That means that the band, the rides or games, and the food must be appealing to a wider audience. The splendid green space on the MAC Quad (cough) is too small to include a much wider range of attractions than it already does. Lee says attractions for younger children will be located in Lowell courtyard and possibly a couple of other locations. As it stands, without the addition of faculty, staff and their families, many students only go to Springfest because they have no choice: the dining halls are closed and dining services only gives out the goods on the MAC quad. Adding faculty, workers and their families, plus the wider, non-student activities that that implies, and there’s even less of a reason for students to want to go. It’s not for us any more.

One example of the type of old student concern that has fallen by the wayside: alcohol. From all accounts, Lee and the council haven’t asked for it. Springfest at most schools—nearby Brown, for example—includes drinking. Here at Harvard, alcohol has been gone from Springfest for so long (okay, four years) that students don’t even remember that it was once an option. Would it be expensive? Sure—so charge for cheap tickets, say $5 or so (and give the folks who still don’t want to go a chance to opt out). Springfest has been dry for years, but the council overlooked the opportunity to revisit the issue with the advent of Summers. Lee says the obstacle is the massive amount of surveillance required—an alcohol cage and other precautions. “UC reps who were around for that experience reassured us that this only created substantially more work for very little reward,” Lee wrote in an e-mail message. All right—then can the council figure out a way to work with HoCos so that those of legal age would be able to enjoy a couple of beers in their House at a Stein Club equivalent before heading over to the MAC Quad? Permission to drink moderately and responsibly is certainly in students’ interest.

But this doesn’t sound like the kind of idea that would fit in with the new, family-friendly, one-size-fits-all Springfest. As Harvard Concert Commission member Daniel R. Fish ’03 told The Crimson, “the things that I would want in a Springfest are not family-oriented.” Say goodbye to the last of the really great student events, folks—Springfest can’t be it any more.

Vasugi V. Ganeshananthan ’02 is an English concentrator in Lowell House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.