Dear Colleges: Pause the Construction

Last spring, I sat outside of Mallinckrodt during Alumni Weekend, and a woman passed by with her children. Her sons ran ahead, and I heard her say to her husband, “I don’t know what this building is. Campus looks so different now.” As they wandered away, I marveled at the thought of how our small campus, which is essentially just a 345-acre rectangle, could transform so much that it would be unrecognizable to an alumnus who graduated within the last 15 years. But then I thought of the construction projects in place at Olin Library and the Loop overpass, as well as the extensive plans for Brookings that had not yet gone into place, and I realized that if I ever visited in the future, I too would wander aimlessly through an unfamiliar campus.

[pullquote]Nowadays it feels like I do not so much go to WashU as walk through it, or what remains of it.[/pullquote]

But what does this mean for us as students now? On move in day, student helpers’ shirts boldly declare, “Welcome Home,” but I do not know of any “home” that has one-third of itself under construction at any given time. Each project undertaken starts anew the cycle that absorbs every student’s time at Wash U: the fact that if you live through the construction of a new facility, you are unlikely to see the results. How are we expected to form a connection to a campus that is always changing? When once it seemed like the iconic bricks and architecture would always remain, now the only thing constant about Wash U is that it will never stay the same. Why would I want to come back if there is nothing that I remember to come back to? Nowadays it feels like I do not so much go to Wash U as walk through it, or what remains of it. Yet I cannot even imagine how I would feel if I had experienced my favorite places on campus being taken away. As a sophomore, I never saw Whispers, but when I talk to upperclassmen about their memories there is a palpable sadness concerning its loss. A legendary social hub, Whispers’ absence now creates a desert in the center of campus that forces students to the edges of the school to find any place for food or socialization. Construction fundamentally changes the way we interact with this school and ultimately disconnects us from the campus we live in and study at for four years.

[pullquote]How are we expected to form a connection to a campus that is always changing?[/pullquote]

Of course, Wash U is following in the footsteps of universities around the country who are also caught up in a disturbing craze for development, but this is no excuse. An obsession with construction has taken hold of colleges around the country, and huge public schools as well as small liberal arts colleges are borrowing billions of dollars to claim titles like “best dorms” or “best facilities” that help them rise in rankings and court the wealthiest students in the nation. Universities continue to go into debt to construct new amenities even though, according to The New York Times, overall debt levels at more than 500 colleges rose by over 200 percent between 2000 and 2011 while gifts and investments dropped by 40 percent. At some colleges, the costs of campus projects fall on the students, with increased prices for room and board or special service fees. Spending more on construction increases prestige but decreases accessibility, which begs the question, who do these projects really serve? Right now, it seems as if the cranes and bulldozers are in place for a future class of wealthier students that can better shoulder the expenses of all of the current outlandish projects made in the name of recruitment. Constantly taking out loans for modern dorms and expansion projects is ultimately an unsustainable method of development, so it is about time we ask what we truly need from our universities.

[pullquote]Spending more on construction increases prestige but decreases accessibility, which begs the question, who do these projects really serve?[/pullquote]

I know that a plea to stop or at least limit construction is hopeless and will likely be drowned out by drills digging yet another pit into the Danforth Campus. Maybe I just wrote this to retain my sanity amidst the noise. Or maybe this is all to challenge the way we view colleges and what they have to offer; do we really need an education supplemented by state of the art facilities? What would campus be like if instead of funding new buildings, we put money into reconstructing notoriously inaccessible ones? What if instead of trying to attract incredibly wealthy students with ever more expensive buildings, we redirected funds to recruit students for greater socioeconomic diversity? Or what if we put money into resources that students have repeatedly asked for, like more mental health counseling or support systems for students of color? A different approach to how we as students value and rank our universities will not stop the next building from being torn down and replaced, but it can radically change the priorities of higher education.

Sienna Ruiz ‘20 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. She can be reached at sienna.ruiz@wustl.edu.