Once upon a time, Binghamon University was a beautiful place. That time has long since passed us by.
We’re told that wherever we are on campus, there’s a blue emergency light somewhere in our 360 degrees of vision. They forgot to tell us that in the same 360 degrees of vision, we could find some monstrosity of a construction project, dwarfing the preexisting campus structures that dwell alongside it.
I call these construction projects “monstrosities” because although one day they will produce fine new living spaces, state of the art labs and a chic new fountain — because that’s what frigid ol’ Binghamton needs — they are eyesores that should have us all up in arms.
Construction projects deal solely with the future. They ensure that the future students of BU will have a place to live, laugh, learn or do anything else that starts with the letter L. But what the powers that be forgot to concern themselves with is the current student body and the effects we feel from these towering cranes and half-finished facades.
Aesthetically speaking, the nonstop construction on campus isn’t helping us. The gods of construction have crapped on us and forgot to wipe. The once woodsy, cozy Newing College has been taken over by vast dirt patches and towering cranes. The once socially bustling Lois B. DeFleur Walkway (yep, that’s what it’s called), has been cornered off by endless fences.
We don’t have cool, 100-year-old buildings. We don’t have popular quads where students from all walks of life can fraternize. Our weather doesn’t lend itself to outdoor activities. What we do have — well, did have — were small gems of places where it was cool to be as long as the weather was warm. Fond memories of beach volleyball are just that — memories. Running into people from all of my social circles whilst sitting on a bench outside the Glenn G. Bartle Library is a thing of the past.
Outdoor comfort was never one of our strongest suits. Now it’s even less so.
Construction is a multi-dimensional problem, and my gripes with its sorry aesthetics only tell half the story. We have a real problem of practicality on our hands. Construction has wreaked havoc on parking, walking, living and in general, finding ways to get around on campus.
Perhaps when the biggest and most renowned campus construction project was in Newing, it wasn’t as bothersome. Newing’s construction was tucked away in the east corner of campus, isolated from most of the hustle and bustle of central campus. For most of us, it didn’t obstruct walking paths, nor did it make parking any more stress-inducing than is normal.
But construction has seen a haunting expansion on the busiest places on campus. The reconstruction of the fountain and Science I has made smaller, or knocked out, walking paths from the Student Wing, through Science I, to the Fine Arts Building, all the way down to the West Gym. A mess of students who park at the Events Center can no longer walk up a convenient path to the center of campus, but instead must trek through the Pac-Man-esque Science buildings.
Parking, one of campus’ rarest commodities, has taken a huge blow by the ever-expanding housing project on east campus. An entire lot between Newing College’s Delaware Hall and College-in-the-Woods’ Mohawk Hall, as well as a few driving lanes, have been thrown into construction’s fire and flames.
And of course, we are all aware of the shortage of exercise facilities, as the construction of a new East Gym has forced every campus resident looking for a workout into a small room in the Old University Union, left to compete with large crowds for few machines.
When will it end? Will we get to experience a time when Science V, the East Gym and the Chenango Champlain Collegiate Center all live together in perfect harmony? Don’t get your hopes up. Construction, much like fashion, is never finished. Chances are good that those that come after us at BU will have to endure the same campus-crippling construction.
Binghamton University can spend all of its time banking on the future, and we’ll see how the investment pays off if these construction projects ever finish, but we are the current make up of this school and we are suffering. New construction is important and keeping all of our facilities up to par with competing universities is necessary, but it’s time to put the future on hold and make our campus pretty, and usable, once more.
Unfortunately, there will always be more old buildings to tear down. There will always be an endless flow of cranes at the ready, waiting to decimate all the structures we know and love and replace them with barren wastelands of construction.