Here at Wellesley, we tend to focus on the big picture. That’s great and all, we have quite a few major and systemic issues on campus. But the thing is, those big things often take up a majority of our attention, banishing our minor qualms to the shadows, destined to be a brief talking point at dinner with friends. However, I am seeking to shed light on these grievances, for unlike our serious problems, our rather trivial inconveniences have few to no obstacles in the path to solvency. Though these annoyances may seem petty and small, at the end of the day, they impact our quality of life, and are easily fixable.
The first trouble I must address involves the kitchens. As a Tower resident, the small hallway kitchenettes are notably mediocre. While I, along with other students, had hoped for marginal improvements with the new renovations, all we got were more things to be irritated by. Midway through baking cookies for a friend’s birthday, we realized the oven in our hall didn’t work, so we went a floor down only to be confronted with an even more infuriating conundrum: the appliance was essentially an Easy Bake Oven. It could not fit one standard-sized cookie sheet. How is this even possible? I find this absurd, especially because students cook for themselves every day. Considering there is plenty more space in this kitchen for a conventionally sized oven, I am left bewildered by this decision.
My second quibble, the catalyst behind this article, the lack of swipe/tap access on Tower doors, is a nuisance that plagues everyone who lives in the Courtyard as well as all those who enjoy the atmosphere of the steps from time to time.
Picture this: It’s a cold evening, it’s been a long and stressful week, and on your walk back from a serious academic grind session you bump into your friends who are down by the columns of College Hall, about to enjoy a little pre-bedtime treat. Alas, you had the misfortune of forgetting the necessities, perhaps a jacket, an umbrella, a water bottle or a lighter. After the day that you’ve had –– walking the way up to the archway door, swiping your OneCard up and down multiple times, and running all the way up to your room –– feels like a marathon. But from a distance, you see someone exiting through the side stairwell door. If you could just catch them in time before the door shuts, it’ll save you time and energy (let’s be real, mostly mental). The glimmer of hope in your eyes dies as you watch your window of opportunity slip away in a matter of seconds. By the time you return, your friends are ready to go to bed. Feeling somber, defeated and tired, you return to your dorm, retracing your steps back upstairs.
Furthermore, all doors should be tap-accessible. How many times has this happened to you? Your arms are full, your back strained, and your OneCard is buried deep in a bag or pocket, tucked safely inside your phone case, wallet or phone wallet. It’s a struggle. You have to put your belongings down, riffle through, and pull out your OneCard. You voraciously swipe back and forth until finally, the faulty electronic gatekeeper decides to grant you access. Now it’s a race against the clock. Pick up your items and with limited mobility try to grab the handle all before you are once again barred from entry. If only the door was tap-to-unlock, you could have been inside already. But see, it doesn’t have to be this way.
I propose that there should be no one-sided doors. If you can exit, you should, by all means, be able to enter. All side doors should be equipped with a tap mechanism, for they are essential and serve a meaningful purpose. Not just in Tower Court; all across our campus, these one-sided doors hinder our comfort and happiness.
My final complaint in regard to restricted access involves the dining halls. As a Tower resident, I lament the blockade that assumes position every evening at 7:00 p.m. The Tower-Sev communities have lived harmoniously side by side for centuries. Yet, with every nightfall, a man-made barrier divides us. Friends: torn apart. Lovers: forced to be long distance. And for what purpose? Don’t we have enough division on campus and in the world? All this turmoil just so that a resident doesn’t use a toaster at night?
I will now share an extremely personal anecdote illustrating the severity of the dining hall lockdown situation. One day, some friends and I were eating dinner on the Tower side of the dining hall. Engrossed in conversation, we did not notice the time nor the bars. Nearing the end of our night, everyone else had incrementally trickled upstairs, leaving only one lone Sev resident friend and myself in our hallowed mess hall. We bid each other farewell as I retired to my dormitory. That was the last time I ever saw her. Unbeknownst to me, my friend had not anticipated the need to bring her OneCard to dinner. By the time she reached the end of her journey to the door of Severance Hall, her phone was dead. Left stranded, she had no choice but to wait outside, hoping someone might walk by. But nobody came. She died that night.
Now that may seem dramatic, but in these Massachusetts winters, it’s not really that far-fetched. While these issues may seem inconsequential, they reflect how out-of-touch Wellesley decision-makers are. These accessibility and convenience problems could be solved easily if they just took the time to listen to students.