At 7:45 a.m. on the first day of classes, my friend and I left campus for the Downtown Center. Upon arriving, we were surprised to learn that the inadequate parking lot surrounding the building was reserved for faculty. Despite the $120-something that students pay to park on campus each year, the expectation for the Downtown Center is that students who wish to drive should pay more. Binghamton University Parking is nothing if not thoughtful.

We were now a few blocks away from a building we had never been inside of, and we had ten minutes to get to class. We walked rapidly to Washington Street and were confused to find that the intersection we needed to cross had a crosswalk, but no stop-go-hand-sign-thing. Dare we sprint through morning rush hour traffic to get to a class? Yes, but only because at that point, my classroom was closer than my bedroom.

As exciting as I like my mornings to be, I was unprepared to find that we were to be locked out. A security guard came to the door and asked to see our new IDs. We soon learned why they’re $20 instead of $5. They unlock doors! Since most students at this building are upperclassmen who live off campus, almost no one had picked up their ID yet. As she moved aside understandingly to let the first students to take the first classes in this God-forsaken building go through, more security began to yell and ask where we were going. My love of loud noises is exceeded only by my love of loud noises early in the morning.

Who, pray tell, was in charge of the interior design plan for this building? The foyer was beautiful, but the inside of my classroom is a monochromatic study in a color Crayola would likely call ‘yellowed plastic’ and the desks are shaped like Spanish tildes. I would like to take a moment to point out that the Downtown Center has been touted as the hot spot for all seminar classes. Seminar classes mean small groups and lots of discussion ‘ traditionally in a circle. Why would anyone knowingly purchase desks that by the nature of their geometry cannot be made into a circle?

Questions like this keep me up at night.

By the time we had made a class effort at a circle-like figure, the desks looked like a Candy Land board. To add to the excitement of a pop quiz in geometry, I quickly learned that both the desks and chairs are on wheels. I spent the class period trying to anchor my wheelie chair to my wheelie desk, while not pitching myself into the no-man’s-land in the middle of our semi-closed figure. Best workout I’ve had in months.

I understand that it’s a new building and there will be problems that need fixing. It all comes down to one thing: communication. The administration broke a lot of arms to get professors to teach down there, but neither the professors nor the students were told anything. I’m pretty confident that someone in the administration could have informed students that they would need their new IDs in order to gain access to the fortress. They could have explicitly stated that the empty lot surrounding the building was not for the students. They could have done a lot of things. It’s always nice to be kept informed.

At least it looks pretty.